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i write a lot. when im not writing i read.and since the people in the OTF don't appreciate my talents i decided to just post them here

*note-a lot of my books/stories include magic and many forms of magic

*also, i like to merge different worlds i also use people i know a lot, so if youre in one of my stories, good job up so keep on the lookout for people you recognize from different shows, movies or books

*plus...i like vampires so many of my main characters are vampires

okay then! this first story im posting won me a Scholastic Arts & Writing Merit Award last year . Enjoy!!!

A White Dove
Jack Reigan crouched down behind a low wall, the only thing left of an office building. Dust and smoke surrounded him, as though he was the only thing left in the world. In the distance, the sound of a grenade caused a small tremor to run through his books and legs, straight to his very core.

Just to think, just under a month ago, Jack was sitting with his girlfriend in a very nice restaurant, both proposing to her and giving her the grave news of being drafted into the U.S. Army Corps. Although she hid her sadness away from Jack, he could still feel the disappointment in her eyes. He could still, even now, smell the perfume on her soft skin, as he boarded the ship to Germany.

Since then, he’s seen countless people being shot or blown apart. Seen the horror of those caught by the gas, without a mask. Never ending bombs fall without knowing which side dropped them. People who ran from the trenches were only to be shot by their own Commanding Officers.

Another grenade fell in the distance, closer now. Was it the Germans? The British? Or was it his own regiment? Jack clutched his gun close to his chest. Now, Jack realized how loudly his heart pounded in his chest, as the rain would pound on their bunkers, late at night.

“Halt!!!” Jack shouted to the figures approaching him.
At least seven black silhouettes were marching forward, all holding guns pointed at him. The bayonets gleamed, although there was no sun in the smoky sky.

“I said halt!! Who are you?! What alli…” Jack cut off, felling the pain.

A pain, unlike any other, shot straight through his chest. It stung his very being, straight to the core of his soul. As Jack lay on his back, a pure white dove flew overhead. As he took in his last few precious breaths, Jack allowed himself a small smile at the wondrous site. For the smoke had cleared, letting in a small section of sky, not just any sky though. For Jack Reigan, it was the most beautiful sky in the world.

With a shaky hand, Jack reached into a breast pocket and took out the picture of his fiancé that was taken the day before his departure. He saw her golden blonde curls as they flowed over her slender shoulders, when she posed for the camera.

A face loomed over Jack. American. He was shot by one of his own. Although the man’s mouth moved, no words reached him.

“Tell her…I love her…”Jack whispered.

The last sight that reached him was the dove again, white as freshly fallen snow, against the perfect blue sky.

this next one is just a little something i had to write for my Career Planning II class for a scavenger hunt where we had to write a story using certain words. so its kinda goofy

Bill
Bill sat in the park with Frank eating ice cream while they waited for Andrew to come back with lunch. The sun shone brightly over the buildings of New York on this Saturday in August. Frank was typing on his laptop a report for English class when Bill spoke.
“Frank, what do you think ‘professionalism’ is?” he asked.
“What?” Frank asked, looking up from his work.
“’Professionalism’. What do you think it is?”
“Why?” Frank asked, returning to his report.
“My little sister said I didn’t have any sense of professionalism when she saw my book bag yesterday,” Bill said, taking a lick of ice cream.
“Amy or Janice?” Frank asked.
“Amy,” Bill said.
“Ain’t seven?”
“Just answer the question.”
“It’s basically having a mature outlook on a career or job,” Frank said without looking up.
“You mean attire and all that?”
“That’s part of it,” Frank said.
“Okay,” Bill said.
“Is ‘phonebook’ one or two words?” Frank asked a little later.
“Two.”
“Thanks,” he said, making it one word anyway.
Just then, Andrew walked up with a brown paper bag.
“That’d better be lunch, dude,” Frank said.
“And if it’s not?” Andrew said.
“Then you’ll find yourself in those flowers over there,” Frank said with a smile.
He opened up the bag and handed them both their sandwiches.
“Hey!” Bill exclaimed, “You got me a chicken sandwich? I wanted tuna!”
“Sorry. You’ve got poor communication skills, man,” Andrew said.
“Along with a lack of professionalism,” Frank laughed.

the story so far for my entry in this years Scholastic Arts&Writing awards

Kalista sat in their meadow as the set on the bright spring day, Airlia a tiny white kitten, was fast asleep in her lap. The sun was setting over the treetops as Kalista waited for him.

“Where could he be?” she wondered out loud.

“Right here, my love,” his voice said from a tree branch in the tree she sat under.

“Santos! You made it!” she called up.

He hopped down, sitting beside her in the grass, and then he put a gentle arm around her shoulders to hold her close.

“I’d never miss out on a chance to be with you,” he whispered into her ear.

“Santos…,” she whispered leaning her head against him.

They stayed like this for a few minutes, drinking in the beauty of the sunset, and the meadow around them. After the sun made its way down beyond the horizon, they spotted Helios flying towards Mount Olympus and Selene coming down to guide the moon across the night sky. As the god and goddess passed overhead, Kalista and Santos ducked into the shadows of the laurel tree they were under. But they were soon out of harms way as the Moon Goddess and the Sun God passed.

“Santos, I fear that some of the nymphs suspect something of me,” Kalista finally spoke.

“Why so?” Santos asked.

She looked down at Airlia as she spoke, “Some of them cornered me today as I made my way down from the Mountain. They asked me strange questions about mortals and the forest.”

Santos pondered this for a while, watching the stars as they winked into view over the horizon, “Well, maybe heard us one day. They are nymphs you know.”

“Yes. They need to keep to themselves for once. Just the other afternoon, I saw them in a clearing gossiping about Hermes and his son Pan,” she said.

“Pay them no mind, my love. They’re below you in the hierarchy of magical beings after all,” he whispered.

“But they could still tell father, or even mother. Or… even worse, they could kill you,” her voice caught at the thought.

“Shhhh,” he comforted, “Like I said, your above them, you’d be able to deny anything they said, right?”

“I guess,” she said as she stroked Airlia’s fur.

“Don’t guess, you’re the Muse-Goddess, you know,” Santos whispered, he put a hand under her chin to look into her eyes.

She smiled at him, the blinding smile of the Muse-Goddess, daughter of Apollo, the God of music, prophecies, poetry, and archery, also the God of light and truth; Eutepre, the Muse of Lyrical poetry. The product of a forbidden love that was never meant to be, nor last. Only Santos was able to see Kalista for what she was, not just the only Muse-Goddess in history, but a beautiful person, who was alone, despite being surrounded by all the riches anyone could ever ask for.
* * *
He met her one summer day in the forest as he hunted. She was in a laurel tree, the very one they now were under, when he passed by.

“What are you doing in these parts?” she asked him, “This all belongs to deities of Mount Olympus, you know.”

“All the game has gone from the forest that is close to my house. Why do you care?” he said.

“Because I’m from Mount Olympus, and I don’t like mortals hunting on my land,” she said.

“Liar,” he shouted.

With a smile, Kalista jumped from the tree in front of him. Santos jumped back when he saw who she really was.

“You’re the Muse-Goddess,” he stammered he quickly bowed at her feet, “I apologize your majesty.”

She looked down at the ground in sadness when he said this.

“Don’t, I’m the one who’s sorry,” she said in a small voice.

Santos looked up in confusion, a God or Goddess never apologized for their actions, not even to each other.

“No,” he persisted, “I was on your land, I should never have strayed into these parts.”

Kalista bent down to him and put a hand on his head, “Please don’t,” she whispered.

“Why?” Santos couldn’t resist asking.

“I’m always treated this way, like I’m the most important person on the Mountain, when there’s much more powerful Gods and Goddess than me in the whole world!” she explained, “I don’t like the unneeded attention,” a tear rolled down her cheek.

Santos sat up and wiped the tear away with a finger, the touch sent a current through their skins, but Santos ignored it.

“Please don’t cry,” he whispered.

“But I’m all alone, even though my father dotes upon me night and day, he never listens to me,” she sobbed, burying her face into his chest.

“Not anymore,” Santos said gently.

Kalista gasped and looked up.

“I’ll be here, from now on, I’ll be here for you,” he smiled.

the end of that part seems too mooshy-gooshy to me....mhmm idk
what do yns guys think?

Im 2 drunk to tell ya but I will be back! I love magic! Ill be back in between the world of sober and not so sober..hehe then I will read and give thumbs up or down

This years entry for the Scholastic Arts & Witing Awards
enjoy!



Ethereal

Kalista sat in their meadow as the set on the bright spring day, Airlia, a tiny white kitten, was fast asleep in her lap. The sun was setting over the treetops as Kalista waited for him. Even in the shade, the light from Helios’s hit her skin and scattered the light across the grass the and tree-leaves.
“Where could he be?” she wondered out loud.
“Right here, my love,” his voice said from a tree branch in the tree she sat under.
“Santos! You made it!” she called up.
He hopped down, sitting beside her in the grass, and then he put a gentle arm around her shoulders to hold her close.
“I’d never miss out on a chance to be with you,” he whispered into her ear.
“Santos…,” she whispered leaning her head against him.
They stayed like this for a few minutes, drinking in the beauty of the sunset, and the meadow around them. After the sun made its way down beyond the horizon, they spotted Helios flying towards Mount Olympus and Selene coming down to guide the moon across the night sky. As the god and goddess passed overhead, Kalista and Santos ducked into the shadows of the laurel tree they were under. But they were soon out of harms way as the Moon Goddess and the Sun God passed.
“Santos, I fear that some of the Nymphs suspect something of me,” Kalista finally spoke.
“Why so?” Santos asked.
She looked down at Airlia as she spoke, “Some of them cornered me today as I made my way down from the Mountain. They asked me strange questions about mortals and the forest.”
Santos pondered this for a while, watching the stars as they winked into view over the horizon, “Well, maybe heard us one day. They are Nymphs you know.”
“Yes. They need to keep to themselves for once. Just the other afternoon, I saw them in a clearing gossiping about Hermes and his son Pan,” she said.
“Pay them no mind, my love. They’re below you in the hierarchy of the Gods after all,” he whispered.
“But they could still tell father, or even mother. Or… even worse, they could kill you,” her voice caught at the thought.
“Shhhh,” he comforted, “Like I said, your above them, you’d be able to deny anything they said, right?”
“I guess,” she said looking down and stroking Airlia’s soft, white fur.
“Don’t guess, you’re the Muse-Goddess, you know,” Santos whispered, he put a hand under her chin to look into her eyes.
She smiled at him, the blinding smile of the Muse-Goddess, daughter of Apollo, the God of music, prophecies, poetry, and archery, also the God of light and truth; Eutepre, the Muse of Lyrical poetry was her mother.
The product of a forbidden love that was never meant to be, nor last, she was born in secrecy, but couldn’t be hidden for long. Her life was a lonely one until, as a child, she met Santos playing in the forest not too far from Mount Olympus. Although Santos immediately guessed what she was, he stayed and they played together until Apollo came from his position atop the mountain to retrieve her.
Finally, Helios had disappeared and Selene had taken his place, in the sky. Her silvery shine lit up the meadow with an ethereal glow. In the tall grass, Airlia pounced at the night-time creatures that flittered in front of her. Luckily, they were still hidden under the tree, otherwise Selene would have been able to spot Kalista’s own ethereal glow.
The night was peaceful around them as they talked about the days that had passed since the last time they met. Eventually, Airlia returned to nestle into Kalista’s arms once again as she chewed on a fat mouse she had caught, Kalista paid no mind to it though. When Selene was directly above them, Kalista laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.
“I think you should get back to the mountain before your father notices you gone,” Santos said after a while.
She mumbled, half asleep, “No. It’s okay. Let’s just stay a little longer, please?”
Santos chuckled under his breath and looked up at the night sky. The stars were clearly visible on this warm summer night; he was looking at the different constellations and remembering their legends when he heard people heading towards them.
“Santos! Kalista! Show yourselves!” Their voices called out.
The sound of their voices floated on the night air harshly, it destroyed the peaceful atmosphere as a thrown rock would destroy the calm surface of a pool of water. Kalista sat up with an alert look on her face. She looked around the meadow and then up at the tree.
“What is it?” Santos asked.
Her eyes snapped suddenly to his face, a calculating look deep within the blue-green irises. Without a word, she grabbed his arm and suddenly, they were in the topmost branches of the tree. Below them, three women dressed in togas and carrying sword on the belts walked passed.
“They are in the tree,” the Wood Nymphs whispered.
“In the tree. In the tree. In the tree,” more repeated.
Kalista glowered at the bush that the Nymphs were hiding in, and then it caught fire. The women stared up into the trees as the bush burned bright as day.
“Who are they?” Santos asked.
“The Erinnyes. They are against me being in existence. So they’ve been after me since I was born,” she answered in a low voice.
“Why so?” he asked.
“They view it as wrong that Apollo and Eutepre lay together and for that they want to punish them by destroying me,” her eyes narrowed as she said this.
Just then, Airlia stirred and mewed loudly. Immediately, the eyes of the Erinnyes’ flew to the spot in which they sat as they unsheathed their swords.
Kalista’s eyes narrowed, “Alecto ….”
“Kalista,” the tallest Erinnyes replied, “How wonderful to see you.”
The other two snickered, causing Kalista to make the rocks behind them to explode.
“Megaera … Tisiphone …,” she said, a smile fighting on her lips.
“So this is Santos then,” Megaera asked.
“The more the merrier,” Tisiphone said, a smile breaking over her green teeth.
Alecto lifted a hand, forcing Kalista and Santos to fall from the branch. The deities moved in closer to them, but Airlia jumped from Kalista’s arms to hiss at them. They laughed, and then Alecto picked up the small kitten and threw it into the still burning bush.
“NO!!!!!!!” Kalista screamed after her lost kit.
“Would you like to join it?” Tisiphone said over the squeals that emitted from the flames.
Tears streaked Kalista’s cheeks when she glared at him, “Why? WHY!?!?!”
“You’re an abomination, going against moral, right and wrong,” Alecto said, “You don’t deserve to exist.”
“Is that justification for seeking me out? Every day of my life, since the day I was born?!” she shouted.
She looked at her as he thought, “Yes, it is,” she said finally.
Santos looked over at his love, his face hard, but his deep, brown eyes showed the emotions his heart felt. Kalista took his hand as the three deities advanced upon them; tears still flowed from her eyes. Above them, Selene looked solemnly down at the scene, bound to her Pegasi-chariot, she was unable to do anything to stop them.
* * *
Apollo and Eutepre found them the next afternoon; the fire had long died out, the trees and plants stained with the blood of the Muse-Goddess and her love. Kalista lay in Santos’ arms, Airlia’s charred remains still lay where the bush had been. When they saw the gruesome scene, Eutepre ran over to her daughter’s body and wept. Hades appeared alongside with Thanatos.
“You know I wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t important,” Hades said in a bored voice, “So what is this emergency?”
“My daughter and her lover have been murdered by the Erinnyes Tisiphone, Megaera, and Alecto,” Apollo stared.
“And?” Thanatos asked, sharing his Lord’s lack of enthusiasm.
“Please, guard after their souls,” Apollo said, “Until the time is right for them to be reborn.”
On the ground, Eutepre’s sobs turned into cries s she mourned her lost child. Hades and Thanatos looked at the sight, and sighed as one.
“Thanatos,” Hades said with the wave of a hand.
The young, winged God moved towards them and drew his sword.
“The kit, also?” the youth asked.
“Yes,” Apollo verified.
He gently waved his sword over the bodies, one by one, until their souls floated into his hands, in the form Karner Blue butterflies.
“They are in fine hands,” Hades reassured the still weeping Muse, “Until next time nephew,” and he disappeared in a fiery flash.
“When will I know when to release their souls?” Thanatos asked the Gods.
“Long after our followers have disappeared, you will be able to feel it. Then you release them for the first time,” Apollo said.
“There will be more than once?” Eutepre asked in a shocked voice.
“Souls find their hosts on their own,” Thanatos explained.
“It will take time for them to find their proper hosts,” Apollo said, “But that time will pass quickly for us.”
And so, Thanatos disappeared to his lair, gently placing the three souls in a cage before leaving again. As he disappeared to continue his work, the butterflies grouped together in the center of the cage and their wings caught the light from the torches that hung from the walls. This caused the blue on their wings to glow, and scatter light across the dark stone walls.

feel free to PM me about any of my stories

you're a great writer keep up the good work

thanks

first ones great!

havent read the rest yet

Originally posted by ~Wålshy~
first ones great!

havent read the rest yet
to tell you the truth, i only wrote that in like 5 minutes cause it was late homework. my class liked it so much that my teacher made me enter it.

Prologue

Konstantine looked over the bridge into the murky waters below. The wind was cold, and the sky was gloomy overhead of him. Even though Romanis had promised better living situations for people in the slums, like he’d promised a lot of other things, the “Wolves” just stood around kicking people around. Konstantine was lost deep into his own thoughts when she came up behind him. Dressed in a long, black leather coat and an old-fashioned “newsboy” cap, Kyrie didn’t look like what she really was.
“Hello there Konstantine,” she said in the same cool, mellow voice that she had contacted him in, “Didn’t really think you believed me,” she smiled, her teeth somehow gleaming in the non-sunlit day.
“At first I didn’t, but after thinking about it, I thought ‘What the hell? We’re all gonna die anyway’,” he replied, “And please, call me Kosta.”
“Like on KMC?” Kyrie asked, smiling again.
“Trust me,” he said, “It’s a lot easier for people to remember.”
“I don’t really have a problem with memory,” she winked from behind her dark shades.
“Whatever floats your boat,” he shrugged.
“We’d better leave now,” she said, suddenly serious, “They’re coming.”
“Okay,” Kosta said, a little shaken at the sudden change in mood, “By the way, what was your name again?”
“I know, it’s hard as hell to pronounce huh?” she said as she started walking, “It’s Kyrie, but just call me Kay.”
* * *
“Sir, they’re gone,” said a Wolf.
President Marko Romanis looked at the werewolf soldier with disgust.
“And what do you mean by that?” he said, his voice dripping in as much distaste as he could manage into such a short sentence.

“Well…uh-uh…you see sir…,” the young Wolf stammered.
“You had better find them… and soon,” Romanis snarled.
“Y-y-yes sir!” the Wolf got out before he ran off.
Even in his human for, you could almost see his wolfy tail between his skinny legs. The thought of this almost brought a smile to the Presidents face… almost.
Marko Romanis was elected the 11th President of the United Earth Sphere Coalition, UESC for short, over 300 years ago. After the French Wars of 2575, the World decided to live in peace, forming the Coalition was the first step in the new UESC’s plan for peace. This plan included the Declaration of Peace, which helped to name a leader to the UESC, stated that everyone was to live freely, magick or not. The previous ten Presidents upheld that law, but after the election of Senator/Representative of Russia, Marko Romanis, suddenly camps for Magicks sprung up all over the globe. Then, every Magick was assigned a number that was tattooed onto the back of their necks, and they had to live in specially closed off neighborhoods, separated from the rest of civilization.
This went on for 150 years, until a small group of Resistors plotted the takedown of Romanis. This Resistance was made of both Mortals and Magicks of all species and origins. The plan was simple, get into Romanis’ mansion and takes him out. But before they could go through with it, they were caught by Romanis’ Secret Police, the Wolves. The children were separated from their parents and everyone was put into a high security prison for life.
But one person escaped before they locked the door, and now she was forming a new Resistance in order to break the others out and to help with the new plan….
* * *
Kyrie and Konstantine looked out from the building they hid in, down below, Romanis stood by as his Wolves searched every nook and cranny of the park. Kosta fumbled in his pockets for the detonator, once it was in his hand, he pressed the button, and the building next to them exploded.
“We need to meet up with the others,” she said finally.
“How many are there?” he asked.
“A lot; most of the OTF regulars, and Itzak,” she said.
“Ladies first,” Kosta said.

pretty damn good

and thats just the beginning awesome

Hmmm.....not bad.

Ch. 1
“This is it?” Kosta asked when they approached a rundown warehouse in the middle of the Arctic Tundra.
“Not what you expected, huh?” Kay said as she took out a large ring of keys, “Don’t worry, it gets better inside. See this place used to be one of Romanis’ old prisons for traitors; he abandoned it once he colonized the moon and had a newer, bigger one built.”
“Is that where the rest of the original Resistance is?” Kosta asked, shivering in the cold, Arctic wind.
“Yes,” she simply said.
The door opened to pitch blackness, inside, he could hear things moving around and smell something dead. But at least it felt warmer than out in the open elements.
“Like I said, once we get in, it’ll get better,” she winked.
They stepped in and Kay led him to an old service elevator. By the looks of it, the thing hadn’t run in a few decades. But Kay stepped in anyway.
“Umm…. Is that thing safe?” he asked.
“Of course,” she said with innocence, “would I lie?”
Still a little unsure, he stepped through the rusted door and stood in a far corner, grasping the rail for dear life. Once the doors closed, she entered a code on the button pad and inserted a card, and then they took off. They moved so fast, Kosta didn’t really know which direction they were going in. At long last, they stopped, the car suddenly jerked and the lights went out. When the doors opened, a loud cacophony of voices hit Kosta in the face.
“Hey Kay! Did you bring my smokes?” someone very loud and very smart sounding called.
“The Grey Fox, he won’t tell me his name so just call him Grey,” she whispered, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I got ‘em. Pass ‘em around to everyone. Hey! And take ONE pack, there’s plenty more in storage now.”
“Whatever,” Grey said, rolling his eyes behind glasses.
“Okay then, I know it sounds loud, but that’s just because of acoustics,” she said as they walked down a long hallway, “Right here’s a map of the place, this is Level One, and the bottom is Level 100.”
“One hundred levels? Romains is as crazy as they say, huh?” he said.
“I said the exact same thing when I first came here,” someone said from behind them, “Hey there. Names Mike, also known as ~Wålshy~?”
“Wow! Cool to finally meet you, man,” Kosta said shaking his hand.
“Mike, how about you show him around? I need to check on the Techies,” Kay asked.
“Sure, just headed down to storage anyway,” Mike said.
“Thanks dude,” she said and she walked back over to the elevator, “Oh! I almost forgot!” she yelled halfway down the hall. Then a card came flying towards them, Kosta caught it with ease, “It’s the key to your room! See ya!”

Ch. 2
Over 400,000 kilometers away, in a special wing of Romanis’ M.I (Magick Imprisonment) building, a small vampire watched the monitor in front of her. The look on her angelic face told most of her story. Anastasia was a Romanian Vampire, the most ancient of the vampire species, her great-great-great grandmother and grandfather were the first vampires in existence, the Draculas. She was born over 1500 years ago in Romania but now, at the age of 1529, she was forced to watch Romanis’ ugly mug repeat over and over again, the Order.
She’d already broken two televisions this week, and was very close to smashing this one as well. But her sister, who was one room away from her, advised her otherwise.
“You know that they’ll just lock you up again,” Faylene said mentally.
“Exactly, it’s my chance to finally get the **** out of here,” she replied, a fierce snarl colored her Transylvanian accent.
“Kyrie will get us, Anna, don’t worry,” her husband, Brian said from beside her.
Anna looked into his Cobalt blue eyes and nodded, then she returned her gaze to the screen. Not only were Anna and Faye (Faylene) Kay’s best friends, but they were employed as her bodyguards by the Gods and Goddess, wherever they may be now. Kay and her husband, Sidney, were both the reincarnations of Kalista and Santos, Apollo’s daughter and son-in-law, when they were born, Apollo and Eutepre, the Muse of Lyrical Poetry, visited Anna and Faye and told them their story.
After knowing Kyrie for almost 1500 years, this was the first time they’d been separated for a long period of time. Interrupting Anna’s thoughts, the monitor shut down and the Warden walked through the door.
“I didn’t do it this time, I swear,” she said.
“Time for your session,” he snarled at the scent of two vampires.
“Not so rough big boy,” said the voice of her twin.
“My arm isn’t meant to bend that way,” said Faye’s husband, Angus.
Two more Wolves came onto the small room and cuffed them.
* * *
Back in the headquarters, Kay entered the Techie room, a dark space in the corner of a very large room filled to the brim with wires and computers.
“Hey there, Glenn. How’s the tracking system going?” she asked when she disentangled herself from the wires that ‘guarded’ the entrance.
A large white and brown goat looked up from his work.
“Almost got it,” Glenn said.
Known as Scythe online, Kay was thoroughly surprised when he turned out to really be a goat.
“My parents were cursed before I was born,” he had explained.
Now, he and Grey led the Resistance’s Technical Squad and were currently working on implanting trackers into the Resistance members to make it easier to keep track of the ever growing group.
“What happened to Tim?” Grey called from his station.
“Right here!” Timothy (a.k.a. Lord Knightfa11) called from beneath a stack of wires.
“What the hell are you doing?” Röland asked.

“Well, I was going through these to find wire for the monitors, and I got stuck, so I just stayed here and decided to take a nap,” he said.

“Mind helping him out?” Röland asked.

“Of course,” Kay said, she walked over to the pile and reached through the wires to fish out Tim.

“Damn, I wish I had that power,” Tim said, picking up a smaller pile of wires he found.

“Well, until then, be careful,” she said, “Here, I got yn’s this.”

She pulled out four small packages and gave them each one.

“You’re a ****in’ angel, Kay,” Grey said.

“I try,” she said, shrugging, “Later guys!”

“Hunting?” Glenn guessed.

“Yep! There’s a small heard of elk in the area. Gotta get goin’ while the goin’s good,” she laughed.

:/ I said kratos+auron=me. Unsatisfied as my role of being stuck under wires.

Great work AC/DC's LVR . Keep it up.

Haha, I look like my pet goat! Pretty cool, dudette.

awesome

Ch. 3
Back on the moon, deep below its surface, a facility held the Children of the Resistance. They were forced to sit through a school designed to brainwash them, or make them go insane, they still weren’t really sure at this point. Everyday, they woke up at 5:00 am to have a “P.E.” period, then came a measly breakfast of all vegetarian safely prepared foods. Finally, they were put through lessons that lasted through the rest of the day. All of this was carried out with collars fastened around their necks that not only kept track of them but to negate their powers, both natural and supernatural. The worst part of their captivity, none of them were allowed their proper diet; blood.

Every Resistance Child was a vampire, and in order to “purge” them from their magic, they were to live without not only away from their magic, but the thing that sustained their lives. The younger ones were on their last legs of sanity; it was their brothers and sisters that kept them going. Kay and Sidney’s children were different from the rest, but they still felt the effects of living without blood. Their eyes shone, blacker than the deepest reaches of space, and every look they gave to their captors was full of malcontent.

But they didn’t go through their daily lives with compliance. Every moment, they planned their escape from this personal hell. Although it seemed impossible to do so, they were able to communicate telepathically. And so, instead of listening to the “history” of President Marko Romanis’ they continuously contemplated their escape. And since Kay’s children never slept, they were always thinking, planning, plotting….

* * *

Although the winds swirled around her at -25 degrees Celsius, Kyrie didn’t feel the chill that a normal person should, go through her very core. Instead of feeling the cold, she observed the elk as they stamped their hooves into the ground in order to uncover the grass that lay beneath. As she did so, she was simultaneously listening to both what was happening in the Headquarters and what was going down in the town closest to them.

‘In other news,’ a reporter was saying, ‘President Romanis’ plans to expand his empire into the far reaches of Earth’s poles start tomorrow.’

‘Hey Riley! What the hell is this stuff?!?!’ Tim was yelling.

‘Lasagna! You’ll eat it and like it!!!’ Riley, a.k.a. Morning_Glory, yelled back.

‘And if I don’t?’ Tim asked.

‘Then you don’t get any cupcakes later,’ she said with finality.

Tim ate his meal, grumbling about getting caught in the wires and having to eat strange foods. Kay chuckled to herself and went back to concentrating on her next meal. One of the bigger bulls broke away from the group and started grazing a few yards away.

‘NOW!’ her instincts told her.

She took off faster than lighting, feeling the chilly wind blow through her hair, doing one of the things she was meant to do: run! The bull elk didn’t hear a thing, another advantage to her design, when Kay ran up next to him and sank her teeth, gleaming with venom, into his throat. After the bull started to feel the burn of her venom as it coursed through its veins, he started to buck, attempting to throw her off. This only caused the poison to work faster… now it flowed through his system as fast as the blood gushed from his wound and into Kay’s mouth.

When the animal was completely drained, she let it drop to the frozen ground and headed back to the warehouse to join her new team.

Remind me never to mess with Kay.

Getting better so far.

Ch. 4
“AAAAAAAND AGAIN!!!” Mike shouted into an old megaphone.

The Resistance members kicked to their left, punched to their right and ducked down before freezing.

“All right everyone, I think you’ve had enough,” Michelle, Ms Chelle, said into the megaphone.

The groans of joy and pain greeted them as they limped off to receive dinner. It was now three weeks since the Resistances spies were dispersed out into various cities. Their leader, John, a.k.a. Rogue Jedi, was positioned at the UESC building in Paris, France, or at least what used to be Paris.

After the French Wars ended, the citizens of France blocked off the rest of the world, so when Romanis came to office, he saw fit that all of France, particularly its capitol city, became his home base of operations.

“Hey Johnny, how’s things goin’ so far?” she said into a communicator.

“So far, very boring. It’s the same ol’ song and dance everyday,” said John’s voice into her ear.

“Just keep your eyes peeled. You never know what this guy has planned next,” she said.

“Besides the expansion?”

“Exactly,” she said.

“Alright, I’m out, gotta tag these cars,” John said.

“Later Johnny,” she switched to another channel, “Yo Colin! How’s it goin’ man?”

“Sweet babe just got Vin and Barker. They don’t seem too happy on working together but they say that as long as it’s to take down the Supreme Bastard, they’re all for it,” Colin, or Quincy to the KMC network, said.

“‘Supreme Bastard’?” she laughed, “How long did it take you for that one?”

“The entire time I waited for these two,” he laughed.

“It rocks,” she said, “So then, hypothetical high-five!”

“Booya!” they said together a second later.

“Peace out, home-skillet,” she said.

“Later,” he said, and she could almost see the salute he gave her from 300 miles away.

“Did I hear right? Are Vinny and Barker on their way?” Ken, the.kenzo, asked.

“You got it,” she said.

Ken laughed, “This’ll be great!!”

* * *

In the prison, Anna and Brian sat through another session of ‘brainwashing’. The face of Romanis was shown talking in a monotone about how his reign has improved the Earth. The images slowly faded back and forth between Romanis and shots of his efforts to eradicate Magicks and the ‘harm’ they caused to everyday people.

“You know honey, I think they finally got me,” Anna said, plopping her head onto the table.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Brian put a hand on her shoulder, but an electric current that ran through the suits they wore in order to negate their powers caused him to move his hand.

She looked up at him through the curtain of silver hair that spread across the table. She picked up her head and looked over her shoulder at the guards that that stood outside the door. Then she turned and blew a short burst of air at his hand. The air current that flowed through the space between them cooled and healed the small burn.
“Better be careful with that or they’ll lock you up for sure sis,” Faye’s internal voice said from the other room.

“Meh,” she shrugged, “I’m kinda hopin’ for it. Getting away from this shit is good every now and then.”

“And the torture they put you through is worth it?” Angus asked skeptically.

“Anything’s better than having to watch another second of this,” Brian said with distaste.

“What the sexy one said,” Anna said.

“I tend to disagree sis,” Faye said.

“You would,” she retaliated.

* * *

Below them, the Children had finally decided to act on their plan….

The oldest, Brandon, Anastasia and Brian’s son, was being prepped to transfer to a more secure section of the facility. He lay strapped to a gurney, being the most powerful of the Children of the Resistance; he was condemned to stay strapped to the gurney as long as he was a minor.

This transfer was to be the last until he was finally transferred to be with his parents. But this time was different because he was going to finally spring his siblings and friends. As the orderlies slowly undid the IV tubes from the machines, he focused his mental strength in order to take over the body of one of the burly Wolves outside.

When he had successfully entered the body of a Wolf, he busted through the door and took out the orderlies, one at a time. Then he took his real body out into the hall and ran for it. After freeing his real body, Brandon transferred back to his own body and set off to free the others. In no time, they were looking over the Moon, on a crash course for Earth.

Brandon looked out the window, quieter than ever….

‘Mom… Dad… don’t worry, we’ll be back for you…. Soon.’

Kay, keep up the good work

NEVER MESS WITH ME WHEN CUPCAKES ARE ON THE LINE!!! clap

Ch. 5

“God damn you Barker! The M-56-A is way more powerful than the AKP-815,” Vinny was shouting as Colin pulled the truck into the loading bay behind the warehouse.

“They’ve been at it for the past hour and a half. Please… shut them up,” he begged Mike as he navigated the truck.

“Don’t worry, the next drill is in an hour,” Mike said when he grabbed onto the truck.

“Hey Colin! These two givin’ you trouble?” Kay asked as she closed the door behind the truck.

Colin hopped out of the truck cap and unlocked the back to reveal two men slapping’ each other amongst a sea of guns and ammo.

“Well, at least they haven’t shot each other,” Kay said.

“Yet,” Tim said as he climbed aboard to give them both a shot in the arm.

“Ow! What the **** is that?!” Barker yelled.

“A tracker. There are a lot of us here so we need to keep track of everyone,” Tim explained.

“It monitors your heart rate, blood pressure, magick levels and brain activity,” said Glenn from beside a stack of boxes.

Vinny and Barker looked at the goat with raised eyebrows, but quickly turned their attention to their hoard of weaponry. Slowly, they packed up the guns that were displayed across a table built into the truck before being led down to the main area of the complex.

“This should be interesting,” Riley was saying to Piggle as they took boxes of food supplies down to the kitchen and storage area.

Just as Piggle passed by a group of people sorting through med supplies, Ken reached out and grabbed Piggle.

“Ken quit it!” she giggled, “I’m carrying glass!”

“Alright people let’s get this stuff down to storage! Tomorrow there’s gonna be a meeting to brief yn’s guys about our mission,” Kay said, “So hit the hay as soon as everything’s catalogued.”

* * *

“C’mon Sean why can’t we eat?” little Kyra complained.

They had just landed off the shore of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania and were now scoping the area for possible meal ideas.

“We need to see if there are any humans in the vicinity,” Kyra’s older brother, Sean, said, “We don’t want to have any humans succumb to the hands of a pack of hungry vampires, now do we?”

“Because we-,” Kiriel, the middle child began.

“Never kill the innocent. Yeah, I know,” Kyra finished.

Sean, Kiriel, and Kyra were the three children of Kay and Sidney, in the forest, Faye and Angus’ twin boys, Ronald and Jonathan, unloaded the supplies from the C.Pod (Capsule Pod). Farther into the forest, the rest of the Children, Anastasia and Brian’s children were setting up camp. Brandon and Brendon gathered firewood from the surrounding area while setting up a perimeter. Morgan, Amelia, and Angela were setting up the boys and girls tents while their brothers worked close by.

“Okay, I don’t think that there’s anyone out there. We checked the entire shore line for ten miles in each direction and the most we found were some scrap metal from dig sites,” Kiriel said when they hopped over the seven foot tall wall of thorny bushes and branches.

“Good job. Once Ron and John come back, we can eat,” Brendon said.

“Why don’t you start up the fire?” Brandon asked.

“Umm-okay. Where’s the wood?” she asked.

“Here’s some,” he said, handing her a large log.

“Th-thanks,” Kiriel said going off to the center of their little clearing.

That night, they had their first real meal in over three years; naturally, Ron and John ate the most and ended up passing out as soon as they were carded off to their beds. Kiriel stayed outside though, not needing sleep she volunteered to be the first one on watch. Most of the time she remembered the last time she saw her parents….

* * *
It was a hot summer’s day out in a dessert, maybe the Mojave or something like that. They had just raided a ghost town for the last of its supplies, it was small and completely abandoned, not even animals had stuck around to try and make a living from what was left. Ron and John were only five then, and their Vampire teeth were starting to come in. As much as she’d like to not blame their crying, she couldn’t help but do so. For it was the dead of night, they had just set up a camp, not unlike the one the Children had set up, and John woke up with his teeth aching. Overhead, a sentry flew past with its lights and it spotted a ripple the Invisibility Shield made in the air.

Wolves in all shapes and sizes sprung forth to capture them all and load them into cages. But before they could lock up Kay’s cage, she leaped at the Wolf that carried her and ran to try and break the others loose.

“Kyrie, don’t!” Sidney said when she reached his cage.

“Run! Forget about us!” Sean called from way in the back of the AirShip.

“I’ll be back for you…. I promise…,” she said to her husband before giving him one last kiss and running off into the frigid dessert night.

Ch. 6
Marko Romanis walked into the meeting room full of officials from all over the Globe and the newly colonized Moon. Once a week now, they had to meet in a secure location to discuss the matters of not only about their designated domain but how to destroy the Resistance once and for all. Usually, Romanis was never in a very good mood, but today his mood was even worse due to the escape of the Children of the Resistance.

“Mr. President, I have debriefed the rest of the board members on the current situation with the Resistance, they are now waiting for your orders,” Mr. Reese said.

“We must find the Children before they reach that accursed woman who escaped from us three years ago,” Romanis said as soon as he sat in his chair.

On a Holoscreen in the middle of the table, it showed the faces of the Children and Kyrie. Kay’s picture blinked a couple of times and switched over to a full 3-D replica of the footage from her escape alongside a full size picture of her. Romanis watched this footage with his usual distasteful look in his flat black eyes.

“The C.Pod that the Children escaped in had a homing device, unfortunately for us, the little brats are intelligent enough to know how to not only navigate but deactivate the C.Pod’s navigation system,” a man from Central Intelligence said.

“Why would they do that?” asked the Chinese Diplomat.

“Because the navigations system is connected to the homing device. In order to deactivate the homing device, you must destroy the navigations system,” the C.I. man explained.

“So they crash landed?” the other man asked.

“No,” Romanis said, “They landed perfectly, wherever they wanted to land. They’re parents would have taught them much better than to destroy the navigations system of a blind craft unless they knew how to fly it. No… they’re alive, and they’re waiting for us.”

* * *

At headquarters, the Resistance was receiving the news about the Children escaping. They were all sitting down to have lunch when the Holoscreen displayed the leaked footage of Brandon overtaking the Wolves and running off to free the rest. When Kay saw this, she immediately left the room, at a near run; she didn’t stop until she hit the outside. The Arctic winds hit her face clearing her thoughts and calming down her system.

“Mom?” a voice said from behind her.

She whipped around, for the first time in about one hundred years; she was both surprised and scared. Standing only a few yards away from her were her children. Not just the Children of the Resistance, a formidable foe to the reign of Marko Romanis, but her own children. They smiled and ran at her, all three of them engulfing her in their arms, harder than steel and diamond put together.

“My babies,” she nearly sobbed, “I can’t believe you actually escaped from that hell.”

“It was all Brandon,” Kiriel said.

“Oh, Kiriel, you look just like me. Like I look like my mom did,” she chuckled.

“We missed you mom,” Kyra said.

“Little Kyra, look how you grew,” she said.

“The rest are on their way,” Sean said, “And also… I love you.”

“Wow. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were your father,” Kay said to her oldest, “We should get inside. Where are the others?”

“Another mile behind us,” Kyra said shamefully, “We were kinda anxious to see you.”

“Hey Kay are you feelin’…,” Roger started when he poked out from the doorway, “Are these-?”

Kay simply nodded, knowing his question before he finished. Then a noise from behind her caught her attention.

“Go inside, kids,” she said.

“Mom, it’s just the rest of the Children,” Kiriel said.

“Still, go inside,” she said, “Your eyes are dark, so head straight for the freezer and warm yourselves up some Mountain Lion. I’ll help the others.”

i know that the reunion part is kinda cheesey but its like 2 am and im kinda tired

its very good Kay

thanks

Originally posted by AC/DC'S_LVR
thanks


ur welcome

Ch. 7

“Okay everyone. We all know why we were brought together,” Kay started.

“Romanis!” the Resistance said together.

“The number one hope we have on defeating Romanis is to spring the rest of the original Resistance members,” she said.

“And how are we supposed to get to them on the MOON?” Grey asked.

“Simple-,” John began.

“We build lots of C.Pods-,” Ron continued.

“And take them under radar to the prison.” concluded John.

“And how’s that possible? Did you save the pod you escaped in?” Sol asked dubiously.

Brandon stood up silently and pulled the small, circular craft from his pocket. The C.Pods was equipped with a program that enabled them to shrink down to a pocket size device in order for easy E-Vac. He took the pod and rolled it down the table like a marble towards the Technical Squad. Glenn picked up the marble-sized object with a special glove that allowed his cloven feet to grasp objects. With a magnifying eye-piece, he examined the craft.

“Replication might take a few days, but it’s doable,” the goat said.

“Okay, one issue down; what’s next on the agenda?” Kay asked her fellow members.

“Supplies,” Roger from the other end of the table; his voice was amplified using a microphone system set up throughout the hall, “We’re running low on supplies on everything from meds to canned foods.”

“I concur!” Selphie said, “We’re down to only a three day ration on foods.”

“Plus, we have to congregate with the spies and that’ll only deplete our quantity to one meal per person,” Riley said.

“All right then, is it agreed that we make a supply run tomorrow morning and hopefully be able to return before nightfall the next day?” Kay asked.

“Ay!” the Resistance called, even the Children piped in to make their votes count.

“That’s settled then. Anything else?” she said, no one spoke up so she moved on, “Now then, the actual plan to infiltrate the prison, has anyone any ideas to contribute?”

They looked around in shame that no one had anything on perhaps the most important part of their cause.

“Well, until we can come up with at least a launching point, this meeting is adjourned. Mike and Tim are in charge of putting together the team for the Supply Run tomorrow. And please, include the Children; I think they need a bit of a refresher course,” she winked.

* * *

A week later, the Techies called Kay down to their ‘lair’.

“What’s the problem, Grey?” she asked when she approached the section of the room devoted to the C.Pod.

“Whoever encrypted the C.Pods hardware and motherboard made it virtually impossible to get around,” he said.

“Shit!” she said, “Is there anything we can do about it?”

“Only one thing to do,” Glenn said, “Find the person who encrypted the system. He/she will have to be brought in and made to break his/her codes.”

“Got it!” Tim’s voice called out from the crafts cockpit, “Every Techie who builds something always leaves a signature. I just found our culprit.”

He walked over to his work area and placed the small piece of metal under a scanner. On a Holoscreen next to them, it displayed the scanned and replicated image of the Techies signature.
‘a.I.’

“‘Artificial intelligence’?” Kay guessed.

“No…. It can’t be,” Tim said.

“Who is it? Tell me!” she said, getting anxious.

“Itzak,” Grey said.

“Alex? You mean he works for Romanis?” she asked.

“Not anymore,” Grey said walking over to his computer, “Last time we spoke about a month ago, he had run away from Romanis’ factories in Dallas and is now in hiding.”

“Yeah, if the Wolves haven’t got him for ‘High Treason’,” Tim said.

“We’ll just have to find a way to contact him,” Kay said, “I’ll take care of it. Thanks boys. Oh and uh- here, more Nanos from the supply run. Put ‘em to good use.”

* * *

In Romanis’ little fortress in the middle of Paris, the UEAC President looked over reports and notices about possible sightings on the Resistance, not really seeing the words printed on the page.

‘Don’t worry my son,’ a voice said into his head, ‘we will find them soon enough.’

“We had better,” Romanis growled.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea, something stirred from deep in the depths….

Ch. 8

“Okay, I think this is the address,” Bruce said when they reached a broken building.

“Why would Alex wanna hide in there?” Roland asked.

“Like Romanis would look in his own backyard,” Sean said, “Besides, it’s a perfect position to keep a lookout on everything.”

“As long as he IS in there, otherwise, were gonna have to think of another way to the moon,” Roland said; he took out a tracker and followed the dot to behind the overgrown bushes that decorated the once beautiful Louvre.

“I remember coming here once when I was a kid,” Sean said, mostly to himself.

“So how old are you anyway, kid?” Bruce asked.

“995 years old,” he replied promptly, “in human years anyway. In vampire speak, I’m still only about 25.”

“Okay,” Roland said, stopping in front of what looked like an ordinary wall.

“What’s so special about this?” Bruce asked dubiously.

“It may look like a wall but really,” Roland felt the wall and pulled on a section of cloth that hung there: invisible, “It’s the entrance to Alex’s lair.”

“Stealth Cloth,” Sean said, admiring the silky smooth cloth, “This guy is a genius.”

“He used to work for Romanis, so he has to be. Also, you never know if his cheery disposition online was all a rouse to fool us and help Romanis get info on the Resistance,” Roland warned.

And so they descended into the depths of a mad-scientist.

* * *

“Sir- President Romanis,” Mr. Reese said one evening, “I think we have a problem.”

“What is it? Is it the Resistance?” Romanis asked, immediately jumping from his seat.

‘Patience my son,’ the voice said, ‘we mustn’t get too hasty.’

“No sir,” Reese said ashamed, “these are the latest brain scans from the captive Resistance members.”

He handed the President four charts that showed a colorful array of patterns and schemes. Romanis gawked at the sight, knowing at once what it meant.

“Has anyone outside the doctors covering them seen these?” he asked in a steely cold voice.

“No sir, I brought them straight here as soon as the scans were complete,” the small and balding man said.

“Good, keep it that way. Chart me a C.Pod to the prison,” he said, “I want to speak with the members.”

“Right away sir,” Reese said, running away from the cold stare that penetrated him, seeing straight to his soul.

* * *

“Easy there, dog,” Brian snarled, “I’m not as young as I used to be.”

The Wolf growled for a short second before the door opened to reveal Romanis, as usual, his eyes were blacker that a black hole. With a wave of a hand, he dismissed the guards from the room. Then he sat down before the Resistance’s strongest members.

“So then,” he began, his voice was like nails grating across a chalkboard, “You still have powers.”

They stared blankly at him, neither giving anything away nor saying they didn’t know what he was talking about. As neutral as the former nation of Switzerland.

‘Damn it Ang,’ Faye said mentally, ‘now I want some cheese.’

Anna couldn’t help but snicker.

“Is something funny, Leech?” Romanis leaned across the table and stared her in the eye.

“Only that thing you call a face,” she said with a cheery smile.

Now the others couldn’t help but smile and snicker. Romanis’ face puvkered up and he grabbed her by the hair and lifted her across the table, snapping the restraints that held her in place. Brian struggled against his but a Wolf shocked him in the back with a Shocker Wand.
“It’s this reason that your Children were separated from you, and now they’re gone. My Wolves are very close to finding them, and you know what?” he snapped, “The official orders are to terminate on site.”

The shock and awe was felt in the atmosphere, thicker than the smog over Pittsburgh in the 1800’s.

* * *
Finally, the thing in the Mediteranian awoke and made its way to the surface….

Excellent chapter Kay..

Have you ever thought of writing for any of the major film studios?

not really
but i do try to write as if its gonna be turned into a movie you know?
i use a lot of visual and details

well, i just had a little tiff with Slay about music and it got me kinda worked up so i came up with this poem: (*note: im not too good at poetry so....yeah)
Feel It:
music
i can feel it
it enters my body
it scrambles my neurons
rips me to pieces
i cant breath
i cant think
it's like sex~maybe better
music
it's enlightening
it's everything
rock 'n roll
hip-hop
metal
classical
the music is me
and i am the music

Originally posted by AC/DC'S_LVR
not really
but i do try to write as if its gonna be turned into a movie you know?
i use a lot of visual and details


Perhaps someone will see your work


Originally posted by AC/DC'S_LVR
well, i just had a little tiff with Slay about music and it got me kinda worked up so i came up with this poem: (*note: im not too good at poetry so....yeah)
Feel It:
music
i can feel it
it enters my body
it scrambles my neurons
rips me to pieces
i cant breath
i cant think
it's like sex~maybe better
music
it's enlightening
it's everything
rock 'n roll
hip-hop
metal
classical
the music is me
and i am the music


thats a nice poem though

Ch. 9

“We got Alex, but he isn’t particularly happy,” Sean said when they parked the Stealth Vehicle.

“It doesn’t really matter if he’s happy or on a murderous rampage, as long as we got him and Romanis doesn’t even have an inkling as to our location, it’s all good,” Ksy said.

“Oh yeah, we also found someone who says she wants to help,” Bruce said.

“Okay, where is she?” Kay said.

“Hey there sis,” a voice from behind her said.

“Kylie?” she asked, confused.

“Never thought I’d see you again,” her sister, turned into an immortal after almost dying in a car accident, said.

Kay was speachless. The last time she saw her sister was over 50 years ago when they were first starting up the original Resistance. She had met a Wolf and ran off with his so he could escape the draft by Romanis. And now, here she was, still as young looking as the night of the accident….

“Woah!” Mike said as he got a good look at Kylie, “And who might you be miss?”

“Kylie, imulamusheen to you,” she said, she certainly had matured since the last time they were together.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you,” he said taking her hand and planting a soft kiss on the back of it.

“Go be suave after you’ve catalogued all the things coming in,” Kay said, “I need to catch up with my sister. Wow, fifty years….”

* * *

His hand broke the surface of the water, it groped around for the shoreline but only found a piece of driftwood. He used it to pull his head above the suface so his lungs could take in air. Shivering, the young boy kicked his feet towards the shore. Once there, he walked down the beach, trying to find his way, but his senses were muddled from the years spent in the salt water.

A Wolf approached him when he found a small fishing town along the beach.

“Halt there, boy!” the Werewolf shouted.

The boy just kept on walking, so the Wolf took out his gun and aimed it at the kid’s head.

“Are you deaf? I said halt!” he repeated.

The boy froze, after a few minutes of standing like that, the boy finally turned to face the Wolf, clad in a Romanis Army Uniform (RAU). The look in the boys eyes was calm, unlike that of any child that the Wolf had ever encountered. Usually, they were scared, and he liked it when people were scared of him, it got his adrenaline pumping through his veins.

“Where do you come from boy?” asked the Wolf, trying to instill fear.

This earned more calm looks from his unnaturally green eyes, partially covered in sea water-soaked hair.

“Can’t you speak neither?” then the Wolf crouched down to look thw boy in the eye, “I asked you a question, and it’s only polite to answer your commanding officer, boy.”

The Wolf’s trigger finger strted to get tingly, and he couldn’t help but pull back on the trigger. But only a click came when the trigger was fully pressed down.

‘Damn, I could have sworn I loaded this thing,’ the Wolf thought, ‘Maybe it’s just jammed.’

Then he looked at the boy again, and his eyes were glowing. That’s when the Wolf understood…. The kid was a Magick, and a savage one at that.

Quickly he reached for his Shock Wand, but one of the kids hands stooped him.

“What the-?” the Wolf began.
Then the other hand reached up to touch his forehead, and the touch was warm.

“Please, Father,” the boy said in a voice as warm as his touch, maybe warmer, “Take this corrupted soul into your arms. Forgive him Father. Amen.”

Then the warmth spread throughout the Werewolf’s body, and he strted to feel light, finally; a bright glow appeared above him, and it too was warm. The warmth filled him now, so he flew up towards the light, and into the arms of God.

* * *

“We have to get outta here, guys,” Angus said once they were placed back into their cells.

Faye struggled against her restraints in order to turn towards her love.

“How do you think Anna’s doing?” she asked.

“Doesn’t sound good to me, hun,” he replied, solemn now, “I haven’t been able to hear her since they took her away.”

“I think this one’s gonna be perminant guys,” came Anna’s breathless voice.

“Where are you?” Brian’s voice asked.

“In a white room. They’ve got me locked up good and tight,” she said, “And I agree with Ang. We need to get out of here.”

“How?” Brian asked.

“I finally found Kay,” a smile now played with her mental voice, “And she’s built a new Resistance.”

“What!?” all three voices asked.

“And even better,” an even bigger smile prominent, “She’s found the Children.”

Ch. 10

Romanis sat in his chair at the head of the UESC’s meeting table. Behind him, the landscape of the Moon reflected the lights from the compound and caused an eerie glow to illuminate his profile. This effect combined with that of the Earth’s edge appearing over the horizon, gave Romanis the appearance of a God.

He quietly listened to the reports of the happenings in his kingdom, happier than he had been since being elected into office. This was partly due to the fact that they had a possible area of location of the Resistance; another was finally signing the papers to lock up the silver-haired vampire, who could have ruined his entire plan.

Then, he suddenly felt a sharp pain go through his body. Romanis doubled over in his chair and let out a guttural noise that the Council Members took for a groan. A light danced in front of his eyes, then it grew brighter until it filled his vision. The light was followed by a voice, but it wasn’t the normal voice….

‘I’m coming,’ the voice said, it was child-like, but very calm, ‘Your reign is done, Romanis. Soon, you will be sent back to where you spawned from.’

‘Who are you?’ Romanis asked, ‘What the hell are you doing to me?’

‘Showing you the pain you’ve caused this planet,’ said the child’s voice.

Romanis groaned again, then he collapsed in a heap into the floor before the Medics could out him onto the stretcher and cart him off to the sick bay. Romanis’ eyes glowed red with the fury that built up inside him from being taken over by a child.

* * *
“How’re the C.Pods coming along?” Kay asked when she entered the launch hanger that was now over-run by C.Pods.

“Almost done,” replied the newly adjusted Alex.

It was now 6 weeks since the scout team brought Alex into the Resistance’s compound, and they had accomplished quite a lot in those short 6 weeks. It turned out that he had been trying to reach the Resistance for some time and he was unhappy when he first arrived because he had thought Romanis had finally found him.

Kylie and Mike had taken a liking to each other from the get-go and now they never left each other’s sights. Plus, Kay had finally made contact with her friends, and most importantly: Sidney. He was being held in a separate part of the Prison so that he wouldn’t ‘cause any trouble’, what with he being the New Resistance’s love. He was close to Romanis’ personal chambers and was able to hear all that went through the President’s mind.

“The guy’s nuts, babe!” he said when she first asked him about Romanis, “He has a voice inside him, that is constantly in control of his decisions. But yesterday, something took over him.”

“Could you hear what it was?” Kay asked.

“It was,” he began unsure of himself, “well… it was a child, Kyrie.”

“A child? Like one of ours?” she asked him.

“No, his voice was like none other I’ve heard in all my years,” he said, “They took him away to the sick bay after he collapsed, and you know the strangest part?”

“What?”

“His eyes glowed,” Sid said, “They were glowing bright, bloody red.”

* * *
“Okay everybody, today’s the day,” Kay began as she stood before the assembled teams, “Today, we rescue the Original Resistance. I know you all want to know why we must, but that explanation will have to wait for when we retrieve the others.

“They’re not only my best friends, they’re extremely important to this cause. Every one of yn’s guys were chosen due to your knowledge and ability in a certain field. So, you’ve been divided up into groups that will be focused on a specific point in the mission. Team A: Your job is the go in first and take out the guns. The twins are very powerful at generating shields so you must rely on them to keep you safe. Meanwhile, work quickly and carefully in taking out the guns and their other array of defenses.

“Thanks to our friend Alex, we now have a complete schematic and layout of their weapons. So he will lead Team B into the compound in order to completely disable their systems. It wont last forever, so Teams C, D, and E; you must work even faster to get inside and disperse to your assignments. Team C: you must go deactivate the prison’s system in order for Team D to go in and let Faylene, Angus and Brian loose. Brian will then meet up with Team E to retrieve Anastasia.

‘Team F will be led by me to get Sidney. We must enter from the Dark Side of the Moon and again… move fast. Glenn has done the math on this and we should be able to make it through the defense shields just as they seal back up. If we don’t, then we must go to the surface and tunnel in through the ground. That is why Vinny and Barker have equipped us with a Laser Drill and a few more weapons in case the Wolves attack.

“Does everyone understand their job?” Kay said, felling as if she had to catch her breath.
“YES!!!!” the New Resistance called out.

“I couldn’t hear you there. DO YOU… UNDERSTAND?!?!?” she shouted even louder.

“YES!!!!”came the reply.

Kay I like this chapter a lot

Ch. 11
The boy looked up at the warehouse with curiosity burning in his green eyes. Up in the air, countless crafts flew upward and out of Earth’s atmosphere. Luckily for the boy, the front door was slightly ajar. Without hesitation, he went through the door and shut them tight. Above him, the last of the C.Pods flew through the closing roof hatch.

* * *
Romanis sat up in his hospital bed and the sterile smell of the sick bay hit his head like a rock. Immediately, the nurse and doctor who were waiting outside for him to wake rushed into the room and started to ask him questions about what had happened to him.

“Get out,” he said in a small voice.

“Sir?” the doctor asked.

“GET OUT NOW!” he shouted.

The nurse and doctor staggered backwards and ran from the room.

‘So you’re awake my son?’ the voice said.

“Whose voice was that earlier?” Romanis asked.

‘It was him,’ said the voice.

“What shall I do now, Father?” Romanis said looking around the room for his clothes.

‘The Resistance is attacking. You must stop them before they recover their friends.’

Without thinking twice, he sprung from the bed and left through the secret passage.

* * *


Alex struggled to remember the combination to the Control Room as they ran throughout the halls. It had been over a year now since he had been on the Moon and his memory was somewhat rusty. When they reached the door, the numbers suddenly came to him, and they were soon in the small, dark room.

“Okay, the shields are down,” Grey said into the communicator.

Outside, the rest of the C.Pods moved in while one lone pod flew off to the other side of the compound. Just as Glenn predicted, they made it in just before the shield closed back up. The guns on this side weren’t fully deactivated so they let out a shot in short bursts making them easy to dodge.

Inside the building, the rest of the teams were on the move to get to their assigned missions. In no time, Team C had the prison systems down and soon afterward, Anna, Brian, Angus and Faye were on their ways to the C.Pods. Meanwhile, Kay was working on the locks on Sid’s room as her team surveyed the area. As soon as the door was open, Kay rushed inside to greet her husband.

“Let’s save the reunion for later. Romanis is right next door,” he said.

“Hello there, AC/DC,” a cold voice said from behind them, “Having fun are we?”

Kay immediately knew who it was, but she put on the innocent routine as she freed Sidney.

“DA?” she said, still working the lock that bound his hand.

“Don’t **** with me *****,” said the Wolf at the door.

“I never did anything to you on a personal level,” she explained, “If you can’t handle another person’s point of view then so be it but you didn’t have to rat out half of KMC and run out on John to join Romanis.”

“Shut up!” DA shouted, “I’m sick of your ****ing mind games.”

“You know you really did hurt John,” Kay continued anyway, “You have no idea how long it took us to get him out of the little hidey hole he made for himself in his room.”

DA fired off a round that just missed her left ear.

“I don’t miss twice,” she warned.

“Shame you have to miss once,” Kay countered.

“You broke me,” she whispered, pearly white tears started to roll down her cheeks, “How would you feel if I said your husband has a fat ass?!”
“Well… he does actually, but it’s a major turn on,” Kay smiled.

Just then, John ran into the room. He looked from DA to Kay and Sid, then back again.

“DA?” he asked, “What the hell-?”

“Don’t play coy,” she said in a steely cold voice, “You sided with them after they insulted you. After I tried to defend you.”

“Babe, I let that drop,” he explained, “We had an agreement that it was over.”

“Really it was over before it even died. But alas, you had to bring it back to life like some… little kid obsessed with bringing his dead dog back to life,” Kay said.

DA turned and fired a shot at them but Sid and Kay were already at the door with John.

“And now fair wolfy-maiden, we bid you adieu,” Sid said before they ran off.

Halfway down the next corridor, RJ stopped them.

“We have to go back for her,” he shouted, trying to turn around but the two vampires held him in place and continued forward.

“Look, John…RJ, she isn’t the same woman who you were engaged to before,” Kay said.

“She’s turned against us, the person you knew before died when she left you,” Sid said, “You have no idea what they do to people here.”

“But-,” before RJ could finish, they reached the C.Pods.

* * *
Romanis watched the screen before him in as much disgust as his being would allow. Meanwhile, the voice of his Father crooned, attempting to soothe him.

“Bring me W-hIr-665, the subject known as DA,” Romanis said, “Bound.”

Originally posted by AC/DC'S_LVR
This years entry for the Scholastic Arts & Witing Awards
enjoy!



Ethereal

Kalista sat in their meadow as the set on the bright spring day, Airlia, a tiny white kitten, was fast asleep in her lap. The sun was setting over the treetops as Kalista waited for him. Even in the shade, the light from Helios’s hit her skin and scattered the light across the grass the and tree-leaves.
“Where could he be?” she wondered out loud.
“Right here, my love,” his voice said from a tree branch in the tree she sat under.
“Santos! You made it!” she called up.
He hopped down, sitting beside her in the grass, and then he put a gentle arm around her shoulders to hold her close.
“I’d never miss out on a chance to be with you,” he whispered into her ear.
“Santos…,” she whispered leaning her head against him.
They stayed like this for a few minutes, drinking in the beauty of the sunset, and the meadow around them. After the sun made its way down beyond the horizon, they spotted Helios flying towards Mount Olympus and Selene coming down to guide the moon across the night sky. As the god and goddess passed overhead, Kalista and Santos ducked into the shadows of the laurel tree they were under. But they were soon out of harms way as the Moon Goddess and the Sun God passed.
“Santos, I fear that some of the Nymphs suspect something of me,” Kalista finally spoke.
“Why so?” Santos asked.
She looked down at Airlia as she spoke, “Some of them cornered me today as I made my way down from the Mountain. They asked me strange questions about mortals and the forest.”
Santos pondered this for a while, watching the stars as they winked into view over the horizon, “Well, maybe heard us one day. They are Nymphs you know.”
“Yes. They need to keep to themselves for once. Just the other afternoon, I saw them in a clearing gossiping about Hermes and his son Pan,” she said.
“Pay them no mind, my love. They’re below you in the hierarchy of the Gods after all,” he whispered.
“But they could still tell father, or even mother. Or… even worse, they could kill you,” her voice caught at the thought.
“Shhhh,” he comforted, “Like I said, your above them, you’d be able to deny anything they said, right?”
“I guess,” she said looking down and stroking Airlia’s soft, white fur.
“Don’t guess, you’re the Muse-Goddess, you know,” Santos whispered, he put a hand under her chin to look into her eyes.
She smiled at him, the blinding smile of the Muse-Goddess, daughter of Apollo, the God of music, prophecies, poetry, and archery, also the God of light and truth; Eutepre, the Muse of Lyrical poetry was her mother.
The product of a forbidden love that was never meant to be, nor last, she was born in secrecy, but couldn’t be hidden for long. Her life was a lonely one until, as a child, she met Santos playing in the forest not too far from Mount Olympus. Although Santos immediately guessed what she was, he stayed and they played together until Apollo came from his position atop the mountain to retrieve her.
Finally, Helios had disappeared and Selene had taken his place, in the sky. Her silvery shine lit up the meadow with an ethereal glow. In the tall grass, Airlia pounced at the night-time creatures that flittered in front of her. Luckily, they were still hidden under the tree, otherwise Selene would have been able to spot Kalista’s own ethereal glow.
The night was peaceful around them as they talked about the days that had passed since the last time they met. Eventually, Airlia returned to nestle into Kalista’s arms once again as she chewed on a fat mouse she had caught, Kalista paid no mind to it though. When Selene was directly above them, Kalista laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.
“I think you should get back to the mountain before your father notices you gone,” Santos said after a while.
She mumbled, half asleep, “No. It’s okay. Let’s just stay a little longer, please?”
Santos chuckled under his breath and looked up at the night sky. The stars were clearly visible on this warm summer night; he was looking at the different constellations and remembering their legends when he heard people heading towards them.
“Santos! Kalista! Show yourselves!” Their voices called out.
The sound of their voices floated on the night air harshly, it destroyed the peaceful atmosphere as a thrown rock would destroy the calm surface of a pool of water. Kalista sat up with an alert look on her face. She looked around the meadow and then up at the tree.
“What is it?” Santos asked.
Her eyes snapped suddenly to his face, a calculating look deep within the blue-green irises. Without a word, she grabbed his arm and suddenly, they were in the topmost branches of the tree. Below them, three women dressed in togas and carrying sword on the belts walked passed.
“They are in the tree,” the Wood Nymphs whispered.
“In the tree. In the tree. In the tree,” more repeated.
Kalista glowered at the bush that the Nymphs were hiding in, and then it caught fire. The women stared up into the trees as the bush burned bright as day.
“Who are they?” Santos asked.
“The Erinnyes. They are against me being in existence. So they’ve been after me since I was born,” she answered in a low voice.
“Why so?” he asked.
“They view it as wrong that Apollo and Eutepre lay together and for that they want to punish them by destroying me,” her eyes narrowed as she said this.
Just then, Airlia stirred and mewed loudly. Immediately, the eyes of the Erinnyes’ flew to the spot in which they sat as they unsheathed their swords.
Kalista’s eyes narrowed, “Alecto ….”
“Kalista,” the tallest Erinnyes replied, “How wonderful to see you.”
The other two snickered, causing Kalista to make the rocks behind them to explode.
“Megaera … Tisiphone …,” she said, a smile fighting on her lips.
“So this is Santos then,” Megaera asked.
“The more the merrier,” Tisiphone said, a smile breaking over her green teeth.
Alecto lifted a hand, forcing Kalista and Santos to fall from the branch. The deities moved in closer to them, but Airlia jumped from Kalista’s arms to hiss at them. They laughed, and then Alecto picked up the small kitten and threw it into the still burning bush.
“NO!!!!!!!” Kalista screamed after her lost kit.
“Would you like to join it?” Tisiphone said over the squeals that emitted from the flames.
Tears streaked Kalista’s cheeks when she glared at him, “Why? WHY!?!?!”
“You’re an abomination, going against moral, right and wrong,” Alecto said, “You don’t deserve to exist.”
“Is that justification for seeking me out? Every day of my life, since the day I was born?!” she shouted.
She looked at her as he thought, “Yes, it is,” she said finally.
Santos looked over at his love, his face hard, but his deep, brown eyes showed the emotions his heart felt. Kalista took his hand as the three deities advanced upon them; tears still flowed from her eyes. Above them, Selene looked solemnly down at the scene, bound to her Pegasi-chariot, she was unable to do anything to stop them.
* * *
Apollo and Eutepre found them the next afternoon; the fire had long died out, the trees and plants stained with the blood of the Muse-Goddess and her love. Kalista lay in Santos’ arms, Airlia’s charred remains still lay where the bush had been. When they saw the gruesome scene, Eutepre ran over to her daughter’s body and wept. Hades appeared alongside with Thanatos.
“You know I wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t important,” Hades said in a bored voice, “So what is this emergency?”
“My daughter and her lover have been murdered by the Erinnyes Tisiphone, Megaera, and Alecto,” Apollo stared.
“And?” Thanatos asked, sharing his Lord’s lack of enthusiasm.
“Please, guard after their souls,” Apollo said, “Until the time is right for them to be reborn.”
On the ground, Eutepre’s sobs turned into cries s she mourned her lost child. Hades and Thanatos looked at the sight, and sighed as one.
“Thanatos,” Hades said with the wave of a hand.
The young, winged God moved towards them and drew his sword.
“The kit, also?” the youth asked.
“Yes,” Apollo verified.
He gently waved his sword over the bodies, one by one, until their souls floated into his hands, in the form Karner Blue butterflies.
“They are in fine hands,” Hades reassured the still weeping Muse, “Until next time nephew,” and he disappeared in a fiery flash.
“When will I know when to release their souls?” Thanatos asked the Gods.
“Long after our followers have disappeared, you will be able to feel it. Then you release them for the first time,” Apollo said.
“There will be more than once?” Eutepre asked in a shocked voice.
“Souls find their hosts on their own,” Thanatos explained.
“It will take time for them to find their proper hosts,” Apollo said, “But that time will pass quickly for us.”
And so, Thanatos disappeared to his lair, gently placing the three souls in a cage before leaving again. As he disappeared to continue his work, the butterflies grouped together in the center of the cage and their wings caught the light from the torches that hung from the walls. This caused the blue on their wings to glow, and scatter light across the dark stone walls.
OMG just found out today!
I GOT ANOTHER MERIT AWARD!!!!
dancing rock caw00t ha-jam

thats right...i rock
_jokeruhuh_ _jokermhmm_

Ch. 12
The original Resistance members sat close to each other at their new round table, to make it easier to hear the 42 members of the Resistance. Next door, the boy sat on a bed as the meeting proceeded.

“Okay, okay, okay!!!! Everyone please!!!! Can we start the meeting?” Anastasia called out to attempt to quiet the loud, cacophony of noises.

“First order of business,” Sidney stood up in order to address the members, “The child. What does everyone think about him?”

“He might be one of Romanis’ droogs,” Tim spoke up.

“Well he doesn’t exactly fit the bill,” Riley said.

“And what ‘bill’ is that?” John asked.

“Well let’s see here-uh… a werewolf?” she pointed out.

“True,” Kosta said, “But that doesn’t automatically dismiss the fact that he could be with Romanis.”

“Here’s an idea guys,” Kay said, “How about we ask him? Sit him right in the middle of the table and judge him.”

A few minutes later, he was sitting in the center of the table. His dark skin shone strangely in the lights that were set into the room’s ceiling. The young boy’s eyes moved about the room, taking in all the people around him.

“Who are you?” Anastasia asked.

His focus snapped to her face, “I am the son; I have come from my place of rest to stop He who destroys this world.”

Everyone murmured to each other when he said this.

“Whose son are you?” Kyrie asked in a gentle voice.

The boy merely lifted his eyes towards the heavens. The member’s whispering and murmuring grew louder.

“That’ll be all,” Angus said, signaling for his sons to take the boy back to his room.

“I think we should hold off on the rest of this meeting until we decide a fate for the boy,” Michelle said.

“All in favor?” Brian said.

Most of the members raised their hands.

“All opposed?” he said.

Only the few that were left raised their hands.

“Okay, after dinner, we’ll meet back here and continue the long overdue explanation,” Sidney said.

* * *
“He can’t mean what I think he means can he?” Faye said when the original members reached an old interrogation room.

“I think he does,” Angus said sadly.

“If the son of the Christian God has returned, then it really means that Romanis is…,” Sid drifted off.

“This only means we have an even bigger motive to get our plan into action and destroy the President,” Kay said, taking her husbands hand.

They all met each others eyes and nodded.

“With this New Resistance, we’ll be able to right all the wrongs from the past 400 years,” Brian said.

“Maybe even…,” Anna pondered.

“I don’t think they’d go that far, sis,” Faye said, reading her twins mind.

“A chick can dream,” she said as they left one by one.

Ch. 13
Romanis walked slowly through his mansion in Paris, slightly dazed still from the ride back from the Moon. The voice of his father hadn’t quieted since he woke up in the sick bay; he was plotting, thinking, and ordering around the followers of Satan.

“We have to find them as soon as possible,” he repeated for the thousandth time, “Send out as many trackers and Wolves you can spare, have every scientist and communications expert on full alert. Once we find them, we need to quarantine them, I know you want to kill them as soon as they’re in captivity, but we must make an example of them….”

Romanis let him go on with his ramblings once he reached his room. There, he walked to the large bed in the center of the room. But when he passed the full length mirror that adorned one wall, he stopped immediately and stared at his reflection.

To his amazement, a line had formed on his brow. One single line now marked the perfect complexion that his eternal youth had granted him. For most people, this wouldn’t be a big deal, but for Marko Romanis, it was catastrophic; it meant that he was aging after being frozen in time for 10,000 years.

“Father, what could this mean?” he asked in a small voice.

“Our time is nigh,” said the King of Hell from very close by.

“Where are you?”

“Here,” a voice said from a chair next to him.

I the chair sat a small girl, her skin milky-white, hair a brilliant onyx, the only indication that she was not of this world was her eyes. They looked at the President with an authority that surpassed anything Romanis could muster; the dark red hue of the irises shone with an eerie light that seemed to come from within her very being.

“Father?” he asked slightly uncertain.

“Yes,” said the child, “It seems my powers were a little mixed up in the portal to here, putting me in this form,” the little girl that was Satan himself stood and stared at Romanis with a calculating look deep within those red eyes, “We must act fast if we’re going to have our plan come to fruition.”

“What do we need to do?” he asked.

Satan walked away from Romanis towards the fireplace, there He/She stared into the flames that danced in the small vicinity.

“We still need to find the Resistance,” He/She said finally after a few minutes.

“And of my aging?”

“Since you are immortal, it’s nothing we should really be concerned about,” said the small figure, “Perhaps you’re merely stressed from the recent events that have befallen us.”

Now his head was reeling from the language his Father used.

“I need to lie down,” he said, he walked slowly over to his grand bed.

“Do not worry my Son,” Satan said sitting beside Romanis on the bed, “When you wake up, we’ll sort through this mess.”

* * *
“Okay then! We decided that the kid can stay,” Sidney said when the Resistance settled back into their seats after a nice meal.

“Turns out… he’s the Son of God,” Angus said.

The room erupted into a cacophony of noises and shouts.

“People! People! I know it’s a lot to take in, but it’s true. There was a prophecy thousands of years ago that one day he’d return and this kid is it,” Faye said.

The voices quieted down for the moment as the Original members brought up the Computer in the middle of the round table to finish their meeting from before.

“Now then,” Kay began, she typed in a few commands and the gas screen switched to a plain white view, “Many of you have heard the rumors that KMC was really a recruiting site. Well it’s true.”

“But I thought recruitment sites had a special code hidden in them,” Sol said.

“It does,” Anna said, “look….”

Kyrie typed on the keyboard:
Killermovies.com/forums

“Now if you spell out the ‘.’,” she said.

Killermoviesdotcom/forums

“You can get this from the name.”

Kill_ _ mov_esdo_ _om/fo_ _ms
e r i t c r u
recruit

A single sound of epiphany resonated from every person in the room.

“There were many people from Romanis’ security who roamed the internet and came across this site, but they could never really prove that it was,” Kay said.

“And that’s because the site was built up on a special spell that hid what we were really talking about from his droogs,” Brian said.

“But there were flaws in the system that allowed some of them to slip through and create accounts. We saw them as the spammers that were deleted on the first day or within the first week or their membership,” Angus explained.

“They didn’t see who we were or what we were talking about but we think they were trying to get us to do something to reveal ourselves to them,” Sid said, “Lucky for us, we’re smarter than that and they were banned on the spot.”

A small chuckle erupted from the members.

“Only two of Romanis’ actually were accepted into our community. One was DA who didn’t turn until Kay here messed with her,” Anna said.

“Not my fault, she was already scarred.”

“The other was Peach, who suspected something from us from the very beginning but worked her way into our system by making herself a Mod and befriending a lot of us,” Anna continued.

“Except me,” Kay pondered, “she hated me from the very beginning for some reason. But then again, the only people who like me are here in this room… I think.”

The meeting continued with reports of what they needed and what their next move was going to be. It was only a matter of time before Romanis was finally taken out.

Joker

Ch. 1
“You know you’re not supposed to be in here,” Dr. Harleen Quinzel said when she heard him.
“How’d you know it was me?” said a voice from out of the darkness.
“It’s not hard to recognize you by now,” she stood from her desk in the tiny office tucked away in the Arkham Asylum.
The Joker stood before her, the white of his make up smudged and the orange jumpsuit all the patients wore dirty and torn. The first time Dr. Quinzel met the most feared man in all of Gotham was more than 6 months ago now, but in the time she had spent with him, she had become irrevocably in love with him. He walked further out of the shadows and sat on the couch. He pulled on the white coat she wore, the mark of a doctor, hard enough to make her fall hard on the couch.
“You could have just said ‘please’ you know,” she said.
“And why would I do that?” he growled.
He got close to her face, their skin almost touching; she froze for a second, letting his breath, fowl and rancid, wash over her face. She had become accustomed to his ways, and she knew he wouldn’t hurt her.
“Because otherwise, I can’t get you out of here,” she said, swallowing the nausea from taking in a mouthful of his air.
“And how are you going to do that?” he asked, taking a lock of her hair between his fingers.
“Easy,” she said, “You take me hostage.”
He let a low chuckle escape as he played with the lock of golden hair.
“I know you’ve got at least ten knives hidden away somewhere,” she placed a hand on his, “All you have to do is bring one in the morning for our session and we come back here. The elevators just down the hall from here, we can ride it down to the parking garage to my truck. Then we bail.”
“Cops?” he asked, he leaned into her, making her lay back against the arm of the couch.
“That’s why we come here first so the cops can have their little say then get the hell out once they think you’re going to cooperate,” she explained.
He didn’t respond for a long time, just lay against her shoulder and let his hands hang down over the side of the black leather couch.
Finally he sat up, “Let’s do it.”
* * *
The guards stood outside of the heavy steel door that confined Dr. Quinzel and the Joker in a sterile feeling white room. Then, they heard scuffling and a muffled scream, followed by a knock on the door. One of the guards slid open the small window that let them peek in on the room. Dr. Quinzles icy blue eyes looked back at them, telling them they were finished.
“That was quick,” one said.
Once they opened the door, Dr. Quinzel walked out with the Joker behind her, a knife pressed into the soft flesh of her throat. They quickly jumped away and pulled out tranquilizer guns.
“Ah, ah, ah,” The Joker said pressing the knife so a small drop of blood rolled down the doctors ivory skin, “You wouldn’t want the good doctor here to get hurt now would you?”
Slowly they re-holstered the weapons and let them pass. In the halls, everyone moved aside as Joker steered Harleen to her office. Once inside, they barricaded the door with a couple chairs and a filing cabinet.
“That went well,” Harleen said rubbing her neck where he had held the knife to her.
“At least we got through the halls safely,” Joker said just as the phone rang.
The Joker grabbed her up and pushed the speaker phone function.
“Joker,” a deep, raspy voice said.
“Yes?” he said.
“Let her go,” the voice ordered.
“Let me out,” he said.
“You know that can’t be done. You killed Harvey,” the phone said.
“No you killed Harvey,” Joker laughed, “Can’t you remember your own victims now? Then again neither do I,” the Joker laughed his maniacal laugh.
A beep on the phone indicated another call.
“Oops! Sorry, gotta go Batsy,” the Joker said, “We’ve got another call.”
The Joker let his hand slip away briefly so Harleen could shout a plea before he switched the line over to the Police Commissioner.
“Joker!” the Commissioner shouted into the receiver.
“Yes, and who may I ask is calling?” he said.
“Cut the bullshit! What do you want?”The Commissioner shouted even louder.
The Joker covered Harleen’s mouth again to stifle her giggles.
“Just to get the hell outta here Commish,” the Joker said casually.
“We all know that can’t be done Joker. Give yourself up and maybe the DA will go easy on you,” the Gotham Officer said in a somewhat weary tone.
“I don’t think that can be done Commish. You’d better hope Dr. Quinzel doesn’t… expire too soon for you to catch me,” he said.
They waited until the police were stationed at the front and back entrances. Of course they didn’t cover the obvious route, the parking garage; because it was the Joker they were dealing with. But the obvious route was the route the Joker and Dr. Quinzel took to make their escape.
Within the 15 minutes it took the Police to station themselves outside the doctors office, Joker already had Harleen’s van started up and speeding out the gate towards freedom.

guess no ones reading lately huh?hmm

I'm sorry but I can not accept the fact that Harley came up with a plan to get him out and Joker himself couldn't figure out one. He even had more questions on how to do so? I just can't see that happening. Would've been better if he just did it and once they got away she revealed that she didn't mind/wanted him to be free and whatnot.

hmm
i see what you mean
but really it was they both worked out the plan prior to the beginning of the chapter and she meant that he needed her cause shes the only one he could really take hostage without being being shot plus she was willing to help
its a little fuzzy, im gonna have to revise it then mhmm

okay i revised the first part of the Joker side-project thingy
i didnt feel like redoing the second part cause really its not that bad, but the first was a little confuzzling
anyway, hope this is a little better

Ch. 1
“You know you’re not supposed to be in here,” Dr. Harleen Quinzel said when she heard him.
“How’d you know it was me?” said a voice from out of the darkness.
“It’s not hard to recognize you by now,” she stood from her desk in the tiny office tucked away in the Arkham Asylum.
The Joker stood before her, the white of his make up smudged and the orange jumpsuit all the patients wore dirty and torn. The first time Dr. Quinzel met the most feared man in all of Gotham was more than 6 months ago now, but in the time she had spent with him, she had become irrevocably in love with him. He walked further out of the shadows and sat on the couch. He pulled on the white coat she wore, the mark of a doctor, hard enough to make her fall hard on the couch.
“You could have just said ‘please’ you know,” she said.
“And why would I do that?” he growled.
He got close enough to her face that their skin almost touched; she froze for a second, letting his breath, fowl and rancid, wash over her face. Although she knew he wouldn’t do anything serious, she was still afraid of him in many ways. His dark eyes burned into her icy blue, never breaking contact for a full minute until he pushed on her shoulder in order to force her to lie back against the arm of the couch.
“Let’s see here,” the Joker said as he moved around in order to reach a comfort zone, “once we’re out of this place, we can finally begin the search for who the Batman is.”
“Why this obsession with that cook?” the doctor asked, “Just because you couldn’t corrupt him?”
“Because it’s a challenge,” he said, “No person is incorruptible, and I’m gonna be the one to prove it.”
“Why not settle for killing him? He’s in the way so many times,” she asked.
“This ain’t one of our little sessions,” the Joker growled again, “I thought I made it clear that in here it won’t be doctor and patient!”
“Yes sir,” she said in a small voice.
“If you weren’t springin’ me, I probably would have killed you by now,” he said thoughtfully, “No that’s a lie, I would have killed you the first day if I hadn’t seen… potential in ya kid. As long as you keep that up, you just might be here to stay.”
“You should be getting back to your room now, Mistah Jay,” Harleen took the chance to say.
“Well, I guess you’re right,” he replied sitting up at finally releasing Harleen, “Otherwise the fun can’t begin.”
* * *
The guards stood outside of the heavy steel door that confined Dr. Quinzel and the Joker in a sterile feeling white room. Then, they heard scuffling and a muffled scream, followed by a knock on the door. One of the guards slid open the small window that let them peek in on the room. Dr. Quinzles icy blue eyes looked back at them, telling them they were finished.

“That was quick,” one said.

Once they opened the door, Dr. Quinzel walked out with the Joker behind her, a knife pressed into the soft flesh of her throat. They quickly jumped away and pulled out tranquilizer guns.

“Ah, ah, ah,” The Joker said pressing the knife so a small drop of blood rolled down the doctors ivory skin, “You wouldn’t want the good doctor here to get hurt now would you?”

Slowly they re-holstered the weapons and let them pass. In the halls, everyone moved aside as Joker steered Harleen to her office. Once inside, they barricaded the door with a couple chairs and a filing cabinet.

“That went well,” Harleen said rubbing her neck where he had held the knife to her.

“At least we got through the halls safely,” Joker said just as the phone rang.
The Joker grabbed her up and pushed the speaker phone function.

“Joker,” a deep, raspy voice said.

“Yes?” he said.

“Let her go,” the voice ordered.

“Let me out,” he said.

“You know that can’t be done. You killed Harvey,” the phone said.

“No you killed Harvey,” Joker laughed, “Can’t you remember your own victims now? Then again neither do I,” the Joker laughed his maniacal laugh.
A beep on the phone indicated another call.

“Oops! Sorry, gotta go Batsy,” the Joker said, “We’ve got another call.”

The Joker let his hand slip away briefly so Harleen could shout a plea before he switched the line over to the Police Commissioner.

“Joker!” the Commissioner shouted into the receiver.

“Yes, and who may I ask is calling?” he said.

“Cut the bullshit! What do you want?”The Commissioner shouted even louder.

The Joker covered Harleen’s mouth again to stifle her giggles.

“Just to get the hell outta here Commish,” the Joker said casually.

“We all know that can’t be done Joker. Give yourself up and maybe the DA will go easy on you,” the Gotham Officer said in a somewhat weary tone.

“I don’t think that can be done Commish. You’d better hope Dr. Quinzel doesn’t… expire too soon for you to catch me,” he said.

They waited until the police were stationed at the front and back entrances. Of course they didn’t cover the obvious route, the parking garage; because it was the Joker they were dealing with. But the obvious route was the route the Joker and Dr. Quinzel took to make their escape.

Within the 15 minutes it took the Police to station themselves outside the doctors office, Joker already had Harleen’s van started up and speeding out the gate towards freedom.

keep up the great work Kay

no comments then? mhmmsrug

alone

i am invisible
i am ignored
i am here
i am gone

you can’t see me
but I see you
i observe you
you ignore me

i am a million miles away
but still close enough to touch
i am right here
but you walk through me
i hear every word you say
but you never hear me

i am alone

Originally posted by AC/DC'S_LVR
alone

i am invisible
i am ignored
i am here
i am gone

you can’t see me
but I see you
i observe you
you ignore me

i am a million miles away
but still close enough to touch
i am right here
but you walk through me
i hear every word you say
but you never hear me

i am alone


that is very very good Kay

Cool.

another new one:

Ch. 1
‘This is a really bad idea,’ Lloyd Jefferson Wayne, a.k.a. L.J., thought as he drove the H3 Hummer through the abandoned streets of Tallahassee, Florida.
The only reason the small convoy had decided to hit a big city was due to the fact that they had drained every small town on the East Coast dry over the past year and a half. In that time, he and Carlos Olivera, the only other survivor from the Raccoon City tragedy that had stuck with him, had picked up quite a few other survivors from the spread of the T-virus. A large number of them were children. And that proved a problem when the last of the women died from being eaten by the zombie-ass mother****ers.
As L.J. drove the Hummer around the corner, he spotted a large gaggle of them zombies. With an exasperated sigh, L.J. put the gigantic gas guzzler into gear and ran over most of them with the modified front end.
It wasn’t as if he was really cut out for the traveling all around the god dammed continent or anything, he was better suited for scammin’ out of towners and idiots. But then everyone he knew started dying, but they didn’t stay dead like they were supposed to. Instead, they came back, and started bitin’ people, then that person would die and come back. Then he knew that he’d have to get the **** outta Raccoon before they got him, but then Umbrella put up that wall and decided to nuke Raccoon instead of trying to fix things.
Then Alice disappeared in Detroit after Angie died. L.J. stopped, poor Angie. She had done so much to help them, and they had promised her father they’d take care of her, right before that German ******* shot him. They had to fly outta the infected city in a Umbrella helicopter, but not fast enough for them to escape the shock wave from the nuke.
“Hey, L.J.,” Carlos’ voice said over the CB radio, “How’re things looking over on your end?”
“Well Carlos, there was a big ass group of them about a block back, but I took care of them. But who knows, there might be more around here,” he replied.
“Okay, I’ll keep a lookout,” the former Umbrella operative said.
Once Carlos had hung up, L.J. went back to thinking about that horrible night when they lost not only Angie, but Alice and King.
* * *
“Hey Mama,” Kiriel Crosby said into her radio, “Everything looks good from where I am. I think it’s safe to stay here for a night. Maybe do some raiding.”
“Alright honey,” Kyrie Crosby replied, “I’ll tell your brother to start bringing the VW in.”
“See you then, Mama,” Kiriel said before turning off the small handheld device.
It had been 4 years since that tragedy the Umbrella Corporation had unleashed unto the world. The Crosby family was traveling across the country looking for survivors to help or recruit. So far, they had only come across a handful of groups of survivors, but an army of undead. Luckily, after they were done going through every state with a fine toothed comb, they had a place to go to. Way up in the Arctic Circle, a compound stood that used to be a prison for Magicks, once the Romanis Regime was destroyed, along with their leader; many prisons like it were left behind to crumble. The Crosby’s, as well as their friends, restored the main one in the Arctic Circle to its former glory but refurbished it to house people instead of imprison them.
Currently, they were making their way through Tallahassee, Florida in their last state on the Eastern Coastline. The routine was to take turns going through the streets and checking how many undead there were, then they decided if they would stay in the city or outside it someplace close. Kiriel, the middle child in the Crosby clan, had been elected to search half of Tallahassee in order to determine if they would stay there or not.
Now she hopped out of the black Ford F-150 she drove around and picked a random building to search. The front of the structure, or what was left if it seemed to belong to that of a bank. No doubt, the money inside was all stolen, despite the lack of need for paper currency. The remainders of the front doors were lying on the ground in front of the entrance to the bank and had some glass left to them, this glass shone slightly in the gloomy weather that was left behind by a hurricane that passed through the day before. She drew her weapon of choice, an Elephant Gun she had liberated from a zombified hunter in the Appalachian Mountains.
Warily, she walked through the doors and into the crumbling building. Inside, she heard no noise that indicated any Undead or living persons. Slowly, she made her way up the rickety stairs that stood, exposed, off to the side of a room. Floor by floor, she made note of anything that could be used or any place an Undead could hide.
Once she made it to the top floor, she had to be even more careful in the insecure structure she was in and took note on the weaker parts of the floor. Just as she rounded a corner, an Undead popped out of nowhere and attempted to bite down on her neck. Try as she might, the creature refused to back off enough for her to get a shot in, when….
BANG!
A gun report split the air and the Undead collapsed to the floor, dead. Behind her, a man stood holding the gun that he had just killed the Undead with up, the barrel still smoking lightly.
“Were you bit?” he asked with an accent.
“Uh… um-no,” she said, slightly startled by being caught unawares by both an Undead and a human.
“Are there others with you?” he asked.
“Yes, my family is coming into the city as we speak,” Kiriel replied.
“We should get out of here before more come then,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her along his side as they made their way out of the bank.
She felt the slight shiver go through his arm as he held onto her hand. For Kiriel and her family were Greek Vampires, and that made their skin cold to the touch of humans. But they were also different from other Vampires in that they only hunted animals for their food, as well as eating human food. The only other Greek Vampires left were the Black family, but Kiriel hadn’t heard from them in years.
As they made their way through the main lobby of the bank, an earthquake hit. The man held onto Kiriel’s hand and led her towards a doorway, but before they could make it, a support beam came crashing down on them. Unfazed, Kiriel pulled the beam off of the man and helped him through the doorway and out onto the streets.
“Shit,” she said after looking down at him and seeing that he was unconscious.
She retrieve the handheld radio and radioed her brother, who was closest.
“Sean, I need you to come and get me, I kinda ran into trouble,” she said.
“Doesn’t surprise me, Sis,” the voice of her older brother replied, “Hey did you feel that quake? I think it was about a .8 on the scale.”
“Yeah, I felt it, that’s why I’m in trouble,” she said.
“You aren’t trapped are you?” Sean said, “Cause I don’t really feel like hauling your ass out of a broken down building again.”
“That was one time, Sean! And no, I found a guy and he got hurt when the quake hit.” She explained.
“Fine, fine, fine,” he said with an annoyed tone, “I’m coming to get you.”
“Love you too, Bro,” she said sarcastically.

kinda long...i know

Ch. 2
Claire Redfield was starting to get nervous. She hadn’t heard from Carlos in hours and the sun was starting to set. Once again, she tried his radio.
“Carlos, this is Claire. Where the hell are you, man? It’s almost time to put up the sentries and it’s your turn tonight,” she said angrily, but then she had a change of heart, “Look Carlos, if you can hear me, please answer. We’re all getting pretty worried about you.”
But still, no reply. Outside the news truck she sat in, the sky turned from dull gray to a brilliant orange and red. She heard the children running to get their meals from Otto, the man who drove the school bus they had liberated a while back. He had a very unique gift of being able to tell you what was in the label-less cans of preserved food by simply shaking them. Behind him were Eric and Mikey, who were helping to unload the cans to the 40 something people of the convoy.

“Hey guys,” Claire said, “How’re we lookin’ food wise?”
“Well, we got just about what was left on the small stores’ shelves,” Otto said as he shook another can, “Some kind of fruit,” he said to Betty before picking up another one and turning back to Claire, “I simply refuse to go into the bigger stores. You never know what’s lurking around. Especially after that quake earlier.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” she said, “You haven’t5 heard from Carlos, have you?”
“Not since he went out on recon, “Mikey said from the back.
“Okay, thanks guys,” Claire said before turning away to return to her Hummer.
“Hey Claire!” Otto shouted as he ran up to her, “Green beans.”
“Gee thanks,” she said.
* * *
Carlos awoke with a start from the vision of a horde of Undead coming at him, ready to tear him limb from limb. When he looked around at his surroundings, he knew he wasn’t in the 8x8 like normal.
“Your awake,” a voice said from beside him.
Sitting on a chair by his makeshift bed was the woman he had rescued from the Undead. Was that yesterday? Or somewhere else in the recent past?
“Yes,” he said, “What happened?”
“A beam fell on us in the quake,” she replied in a calm voice.
That’s right, the quake. After shooting the Undead, a quake came out of nowhere and he had to pull her away from falling debris.
“I never thanked you for that,” she went on, “Or from saving me from the Undead.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, “My name is Carlos Olivera.”
“I know,” the woman said with a slight smile, “A person on the radio has been calling for you since you were knocked out. I just let it go so you could get some rest.”
“How long have I been out?” he asked.
“About a day now,” the woman said, looking out the only window in the room.
“And what is your name? If I might ask?” Carlos said with a smile.
“Kiriel Crosby. And don’t worry, I’ll find a way to repay you… someday,” she smiled even bigger.
The smile hit Carlos like a ton of bricks. Before he could recover, she stood from her chair and walked towards the door.
“We have dinner ready if you want to join us. Or I could just bring it up here,” she offered.
“No, I think I’ll join you,” he said standing up, “I need to stretch a bit.”
Her oceanic eyes widened ever so slightly when he stood up and pulled his arms above his head to stretch. She quickly turned away and headed out the door before she lost control. Outside, the sun was setting behind the palm trees casting a shadow on the spot where the rest of Kiriel’s family had set up camp.
The heat from the humid, Florida day was still present, but when Carlos stood close to Kiriel, he barely felt the heat at all. It was as if her skin was made of ice. Then her remembered when they were in the bank. Her skin had been icy to the touch but he had taken no mind to it as he was trying to save her.
“Well,” she spoke up once they reached the cars that formed a semi-circle around the entrance to the apartment building, “This is my family.”
“Hello there, Carlos,” a man said, “I’m Sidney Crosby, and I can’t thank you enough for saving my daughter.”
“Hi, I’m Kyrie Crosby, and like my husband said, we can’t thank you enough,” a woman, who looked just like Kiriel said.
“Hey there,” a younger woman said, she looked more like Sidney, so Carlos assumed this was Kiriel’s younger sister, “My name’s Kyra.”
“Name’s Sean,” a younger version of Sidney said, “And uh… thanks.”
“He was the one who helped me get you back here,” Kiriel whispered from beside him.
“Carlos. Carlos are you there?” came the voice of Claire Redfield on his radio.
“Claire?” Carlos asked.
“Finally! Where the hell have you been?” the woman asked in a frustrated tone.
“Apparently, knocked out for the past 24 hours. Why? Have you run into trouble?” he asked.
“No, we’re just a bit worried that’s all,” Claire said, which meant that she was worried sick and about to have a heart attack.
“Don’t worry Claire. I’m fine and will be on my way before long,” he said.
“Okay. You’d better hurry up though,” she said in a stern voice.
“You leaving?” Kiriel asked.
Carlos looked at her and saw the sadness she was trying to hide.
“Would you mind coming with me? You and your family I mean,” he asked.
“I’ll go ask,” she said in a soft, but happy voice.
About an hour after Claire finished talking to Carlos, she spotted him, along with 2 other cars behind him, driving down Sunset Avenue in the 8x8. The children ran to greet him as he climbed down from the large truck, followed by a woman with flowing, dark brown hair.
“There you are,” Claire said, “Where have you been, old-man? Picking up women?”
“Claire, this is Kiriel Crosby, and her family, Kiriel, this is Claire Redfield,” Carlos explained, “She’s the leader of this convoy.”
“Nice to meet you Claire,” Kiriel said, offering her hand to shake.
“They decided to tag along with us through Tallahassee,” he said.
“We’re trying to find survivors and help deter them to a safe haven we found way up north,” Kiriel explained.
“Wow,” Claire responded, “Good luck with that. Umm, Carlos? Can I speak with you?”
Once Claire felt they were out of range of Kiriel and her family, she turned on Carlos.
“How are we gonna take care of there people? We barely have enough food for our people as it is,” she asked, fierceness was apparent in her voice.
“Don’t worry, they’re Magicks, Claire,” Carlos said.
“What?” she asked, stunned.
“Yeah, they clone all their food. They’ve even offered to help us out with the food and ammo problem.”
“Wow… that’s… generous of them,” she said.
“Plus, Kiriel feels that she has to repay me for saving her, and I don’t want to let her down,” a soft look came to his deep brown eyes that Claire could never refuse.
“Alright, but they can’t stay for forever. We have a lot of people to take care of as it is,” Claire said, “And L.J.”
Carlos smiled in gratitude and left to give the news to the Crosby’s.
* * *
A few weeks later, the convoy was all set to move on westward, while the Crosby’s were going to continue on their journey through Florida. The Crosby’s were set to continue on through the state of Florida, but the convoy was going to move on Westward.
“Carlos…” Kiriel started the night before their departure, but she couldn’t finish her sentence.
They walked together through a run down neighborhood that used to be suburbia.
“Yes?” Carlos asked, sadness apparent in his brown eyes.
A look of pain entered her eyes and she moved forward to put her pale, frigid arms around his midsection. His arms, warm to Kiriel, embraced her to comfort her.
“I know,” he said in a low, pained voice, “I know. I’ll miss you, too.”
“I…” she began, but one of his fingers touched her lips to shush her.
“Don’t,” the pain becoming more apparent on his face, “I’d rather not rather not. It’d be too painful.”
“But if I don’t, I’ll never be able to say it to anyone else,” she said.
Carlos closed his eyes, remembering the short period of time they were able to spend together. She lifted a hand and stroked his face with her fingertips. The trail her cool fingers left behind on Carlos’ skin set his nerves on fire, as she reached his chin, her fingers touched his lower lip. Then he caught her hand before he lost control; he held her hand in both of his, warming her cold skin.
“I have something to tell you, Carlos,” she said, “My family and I… are vampires.”
“Well, I guess that explains a lot,” he said calmly.
“You don’t mind?” she asked incredulously.
“Not at all,” he smiled.
She threw both her arms around his neck and hugged him again.
“You know, it’s times like these that I wish I could cry,” she said softly into his ear.
“I love you, Kiriel,” Carlos whispered in return.
“I love you, too,” she whispered.
He took her face in both of his hands and pressed his lips softly to hers. They both shivered in unison, but it wasn’t because of the cold that rolled through the streets. After minutes like this, they broke apart, somewhat relieved, but saddened at the same time. The convoy was already packed up and asleep when they got back, so Carlos and Kiriel went into the apartment complex that the convoy had set up by.
After some searching, they found a clean, and unoccupied, room to spend their last night together in. They lay on the bed and resumed kissing, moving in closer to each other as the minutes passed. For the both of them, this was the closest to another person they’d been in years, even years before the T-virus outbreak. With that in mind, they took full advantage of it.

Ch. 3
The next day, the Claire’s people and the Kiriel’s family parted ways, but not before Carlos and Kiriel had their final goodbyes. In the F150, Kiriel stayed quiet as her family chattered on over the “Crosby Network” (C.N.). After about 300 miles, Kyrie broke her from her reverie.
“Kiriel… Kiriel,” her mother repeated into her head, “KIRIEL AIRLIA CROSBY!!!”
“What?” she said with a start.
“You’ve been quiet this entire trip,” Kyrie said in a worried tone, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, Mama,” she said, “Just fine,” she continued in a sad voice.
In the Chevy Avalanche her parents drove, Kyrie gave Sidney a worried look.
“It’s time,” he told her softly.
“I didn’t think it’d come so soon,” she said.
* * *
The convoy made it easily through Georgia and was able to cross in to the former state of Alabama before the sun started setting. In the past, sand and other such desert features were reserved for the far West, but when the T-virus wiped out most of the world’s population, the world started to wither, and the desert spread out Eastward. So even the state of Alabama, a usually sunny and green state, turned into the Mohave Desert.
Claire and Carlos did a recon of an outcropping of rocks that stood off the side of the road.
“Seems quiet,” Carlos commented.
“They usually do,” Claire responded, “You okay?”
“I will be,” he said in a low voice, “I’ll go check it out. Stay here in case I need you, alright?”
“Alright,” she said.
Carlos climbed off the top of the school bus and made his way over to the rocks. Once he entered their shadow, he drew his .45 and a flashlight. The atmosphere seemed different from that of the sunlit road they had been driving on for hours. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was, but he-
CRASH!
A group of rocks fell somewhere to the left of Carlos and made a clacking sound as they fell to the sandy ground. Looking up, he saw a Mountain Lion, far from its original habitat. But instead of a normal growl an animal of this size would normally give that off, an un-Earthly howl erupted from its torn away throat. The massive beast leapt down from its perch and onto Carlos.
The .45 that Carlos carried flew from his grip and under a rock, the flashlight in another direction, the beam casting some light on the creature’s eyes, illuminating them. With what Carlos thought were his last minutes alive, he thought of Kiriel.
Just as the Undead Lion poised itself to bring its jaws down on his jugular….
A wall of sand crashed into the side of the Mountain Lion, releasing Carlos from its grip. Looking up, he saw Kiriel standing in the setting sunlight, a look of pure determination on her face, and a fire alive in her Oceanic eyes that Carlos could see from his vantage point. She drew the large Elephant Gun she carried on her back and aimed at the Undead creature as it recovered from the blow and crouched to spring upon her.
Blood splattered the rocks as the report blew through the Lions head, shattering its skull and sending cranial matter everywhere. Kiriel hopped down from the rock she stood on and held out a hand to help Carlos up.
“If you keep this up,” she said, “I’ll never get to repay you properly,” she smiled a brilliant smile that seemed to light up the dark crevice they were in.
He returned her smile with gusto before taking her up in his arms and pressing his mouth to hers.
“I thought I’d never see you again,” he said when they broke apart.
“You aren’t the only one,” she said, “My parents had a little discussion and decided… I could be of more use to yn’s guys here, plus they said they trusted you enough to let us be together.”
Carlos’ smile grew before Claire started talking over the radio in his ear.
“Carlos, are you okay?” she shouted, “What was that gunshot?”
“I’m fine,” he said in a happy voice, “I just found a little help.”
They quickly finished their check of anymore Undead, animal or human, then called the rest of the convoy in. Kiriel retrieved her F150 and met them in the shaded area where the Lion had attacked Carlos. That night, they had a grad meal to celebrate Kiriel’s return to them. The children had especially taken a liking to her, but one in particular liked to stick around wherever she went.
“Kiriel, look at this rock I found!” little Aaron shouted from beside the bus.
She walked over to him and looked at the tiny pebble in his hand. When held in the sunlight, it changed colors as he moved it around.
“That’s not just a rock Aaron,” she said in a gentle voice, “It’s an opal. A precious stone that’s good luck for little boys and girls like you.”
His big hazel eyes widened when she said this, “Really?” he asked in awe.
“Yes,” she replied, “You’d better hold that close, it’ll give us all good luck.”
She ruffled his dusty red hair and sent him over to get his dinner from Otto. Then Carlos came up behind her and placed an arm around her slender shoulders.
“The kids seem to like you,” he said.
“Really?” she asked meeting his brown eyes stare, “I guess I get it from my parents. Both of them are really good with kids. Hence, my brother and sister.”
That night, they all sat around a large bonfire and shared stories about their pasts. As usual, the funniest, and sometimes the most adventurous, came from L.J. Kiriel and Carlos sat together off to one side when someone’s stomach growled.
“Someone’s got a tree frog in them,” she commented.
“How do you know what a tree frog sounds like?” the girl they called K-Mart asked.
Kiriel looked up from her beef stew and saw most of the convoy looking back.
“Well… uh-I’ve kinda traveled a lot in my past,” she explained, a little nervous to be in the spotlight, “And my Mama’s always been sort of a geek when it comes to most things. So when my siblings and I were little, she taught us all about animals, space, and the past. It kinda sticks to you after a while.”
“Like what?” K-Mart asked.
“Well… President Franklin D. Roosevelt, FDR to some of us older folks,” she smiled, “His middle name was Deleanor, his uncle, Teddy Roosevelt always said, ‘Speak softly but always carry a big stick.’ As well as, ‘When you play, play hard; but when you work, don’t play at all.’”
“Wow, can what else did you learn?” Aaron asked from beside K-Mart.
“A lot of things, hun,” she said with a wink, “And I didn’t just learn it from my Mama, my ‘aunts’ know a lot and they’re still teaching me stuff they either create or discover.”
“Can you teach us, Kiriel?” Aaron asked.
“I… well, you see…” she looked around at the convoy, whose full attention was now on her, “Okay. What do you wanna learn?”
And so began a nightly ritual that after dinner, the children would gather around Kiriel’s, who people had started calling Elly, F150 to learn something new. A lot of times, she’d tell them a story or two that pertained to the conversation, or give a little pop quiz about the previous nights discussion. Afterwards, when the kids were all tucked away on the bus, Elly climbed into the back of Carlos’ 8x8 to sleep with him on the cot.
“When are you gonna let me see you without all those weapons on again, hun?” she asked one night, after a lecture on deep-sea life.
“How about now?” he said, sitting up from his position on the cot.
She stood up and helped him to remove the gear he wore day in and day out. After he sat bare chested, she straddled his lap and removed her own shirt, before placing her lips over top of his. A fiery heat spread throughout her body, as an icy cold chill filled his. Normally, they would have spurned the opposing warmth and ice that filled them, but this was a different warmth, and a different icy cold chill that threatened to spill over form their beings.
Still kissing, they laid back on the dirty sheets of the cot and proceeded to undress each other until they were both naked in one an other’s arms. They rolled so that Carlos was on top of Elly and they pulled away. Their eyes met; again, opposing feeling ran though them from that stare.
Then she felt him….
And the world around her shattered into a billion pieces….

very nice

Preface
I have always had an excellent memory. I guess it came with the rest of my abilities, and it is one of the only things that the people have not been able to take away from me. The other thing was my mind. Ever since I could remember, I have been able to hear what people were thinking, but that isn’t the only thing my mind can do. I can move things at will, make people think they’ve heard something or seen something, and I can also create things. The things I can create vary from solid object to inanimate objects such as a gas or even sounds.

That’s one more thing they can’t ever take from me: sounds, but more importantly, music. They have muted my hearing by placing metal headphones that were stuffed with soundproof foam over my ears. But despite that, I can still produce the sounds I hear from other people inside my head. It’s not the same, the music I create, but it’s the only thing that keeps me sane as I lay, strapped to a gurney-like bed, my limbs and head all tied down and bound so I can’t move or use my Magick.

That is the reason I am here now. The reason I have been bound in this prison for most of my life; like a prisoner. Hell, I am a prisoner. A prisoner in my own head, in my own body, in my own existence. That is the reason I was abandoned as a child, barely old enough to talk, let alone walk. My family left me with the American government when I was only 3 years old, just learning to walk and talk to them. But I remember that I could make sounds, although I only did that on my own. For some reason, I knew that if others knew about my mind, they would only punish me.

I was almost right on the punishment part. They still punished me when I would use Magick, even though I couldn’t help it. My Magick came to me on instinct, it still does at times, that’s why they decided when I turned 10 to tie me down for good. At first, I fought against my bonds, attempting to escape my prison, but that made them hurt me more. So I came to the conclusion that if I keep it inside, I’ll be able to use my power to an even greater degree when I finally got out.

Then I discovered music. One of the janitors likes to listen to a device called an iPod that plays music. I was immediately captivated by the sound of what I came to learn was a guitar. That’s where I focused my energies, on trying to recreate what I heard, when I was completely alone of course. Luckily for me, I am in a completely secluded section of the Arctic based prison in the Northern most part of Alaska.

Then one day, a piece of news reached me in my small, broom closet-like cell….

They wanted to let me out….

Ch. 1

It was a bright and sunny fall day outside, according to my favorite janitor, the one with the iPod. He fantasized about going outside and doing yard-work instead of cleaning out a Magicks cell. The ‘suits,’ as Mr. Rodriguez, the janitor, referred to them as, were making their way down the long expanse of corridor that lead to my cell. From what they were thinking, I could tell they needed me for something, and they were both extremely reluctant to turn to me.

A small smile behind the gag that had held my mouth shut for many years now formed. It felt strange on my lips, but I liked it very much still. The way the muscles in my aching jaw responded felt nice, pleasant even. I kept that smile in place until I ‘heard’ them at my cell door. Hearing being the inappropriate word for how I knew they were there, but alas, it is the only word I have in my vocabulary to be able to describe the sensation of my inner ear vibrating from the inside out into my head to alert me to sound.

Their minds raced as to find a viable excuse to get themselves out of having to visit me and explain how the country needed my aid in a case.

“Are you sure there’s no other Magick that we can use in our investigation?” the one they called Michael Grant, a stout Asian man with tiny glasses he used to see his way around the outside world.

“Would you shut the hell up, Mike?” the other suit, named Alexander Bretnore, said in a whisper. This man was paler in comparison to Grant in just about every way. His hair was a shocking blond, his skin looked about as appealing as spoiled milk, and his eyes were a piercing blue.

That was the only thing I liked about people: their eyes. It seemed to make them uncomfortable when I looked them in the eye, but I enjoyed the pure emotion that their eyes betrayed as they darted around the room, trying not to look at me in my bound form.

Finally, the door opened to reveal the two agents that were in charge of escorting me to a building they called ‘The Pentagon’. As usual, the men looked at everything except me when they entered the tiny space my gurney took up. Although the men wore dark sunglasses, Grant’s being prescription, I could still see their eyes move too and fro in a sort of quest to not look me in the eye.

It was quite entertaining actually….

A nurse entered the room in order to plug microphones into the headphones I was forced to wear over my ears so I could hear the Special Agents speak.

“Subject 362436-BsB, also known as Kyrie Humphreys,” Bretnore began after clearing his throat a few times, “You have been summoned by the President of the United States of America to help the F.B.I. and the C.I.A. in an ongoing case regarding one of your own kind. Blink once if you understand.”

I obliged, a smile still fighting to reveal itself against my gag. After Bretnore finished his high and mighty act, Dr. Marschall walked through the door into our already cramped space to place a device into my bound hand. I recognized it by the feel of the small buttons that were essentially a miniaturized keyboard.

“Of course I understand Special Agents,” came the God-awful computer generated voice from the speakers the doctor had plugged into my bed.

“How did you know we were Special Agents?” Grant asked me.

‘Shit.’

“It’s quite obvious by not only your attire but your postures and voices that you are government agents,” I typed while attempting to keep my face as calm as the voice that emitted from the speakers on either side of my bed.

Grant narrowed his already tiny eyes at me before continuing, “The doctors overlooking you will prep you for transport to a private jet that will escort you to the White House for a debriefing on the case at hand.”

Once again, I blinked to acknowledge what he had said.

“Then we shall see you in Washington D.C. Miss. Humphreys,” Bretnore said before they left the cramped room to allow the team of doctors, nurses and security guards to ready me for transport.

As they moved about me in caution, that little smile still threatened against my gag. The President wanted my help. It was too funny to be true, I had already realized. But if this was an elaborate way for them to finally execute me, then I would happily play along. Anything was better than sitting in a broom closet for a room strapped to a gurney as the people around you feared you and hated you every second they breathed the same oxygen as you did.

Ch. 2
The flight from the Maximum Governmental Penitentiary I had come to call home for the past 17 years of my miserable existence was actually quite pleasant. For the first time I had many foods I had heard about in others minds. My favorite of the foods they offered me was coffee.

The subtle flavors that screamed to be noticed on my taste buds as I sipped them hit close to home, reminding me of myself. Trapped for 17 years in that cell, unable to move or speak. The taste of the hazel and coffee bean hit my tongue in a furious storm that scalded the inside of my mouth. Beside me, Agent Grant snickered a bit as my eyes widened at what he had perceived as pain. But quite the contrary, it was overwhelming joy and happiness that had widened my eyes at the first sip.

Luckily for him, I was both too passive to use my Magick on him in retaliation and still bound in a ‘Magick proof’ box that I had already found several flaws in, to destroy him. Carefully, I took another sip of my coffee and watched the view from my boxed in seat.

How I longed to fly outside this contraption along side the birds that rode the updraft the plane formed. I can fly and I remember doing so once as a child when I couldn’t reach my favorite toy when I first went to the Penitentiary. That earned me a severe lashing and my first trip to my little home away from society that, at the time, I had intended on not returning to.

Below us, I listened to the sounds of the forest that we flew over. The Rocky Mountains, the pilot had informed us as we began a three-hour diagonal flight over them. So many things I had never heard before came to my oversensitive ears that could hear beyond not only our plane of existence, but our planet and galaxy entirely.

Then Agent Bretnore’s nasally voice, one that I had not noticed until he greeted me upon entering the plane, interrupted my listening to the outside.

“When we reach the airport in D.C., you will immediately be placed on a gurney, bound and gagged as we transport you to the White House,” he said, his tone had an apologetic appeal to it, “We must insure that as you are outside of the Alaskan facility, you do not harm anyone we come into contact with.”

“Once inside the Oval Office, you will be placed in another box like the one you are in now, only much more secure,” Grant said, his beady eyes growing ever so slightly smaller as he spoke.

His voice carried a sense of fear and lack of willingness to be assigned to this case alongside me, I noted.

Many hours later, the plane landed and I was attended to as soon as the wheels touched the blacktop runway. As their hands slipped and slid the restraints over my limbs in protective gear, I contented myself to finding a radio station nearby to listen to my favorite band, the first music I heard. Rock ‘N Roll I quickly came to learn it was called, but more importantly, the band I loved the most, called AC/DC, was what I was tuning in to.

I closed my eyes to the world around me as everything became muted not only in sound, but also in taste and touch. As I felt the ground beneath me move, I internally sang along to the styling of Brian Johnson.

* * *
‘God almighty,’ Michael Grant thought to himself as he watched the team of doctors and security personnel wheel Kyrie off the plane and towards the truck they were using to move her in, ‘I can’t believe I am forced, not only into the same vehicle as a Magick for a duration of time, but the same case as the most dangerous Magick to ever be created.’

Like she looked dangerous. Gorgeous, maybe, but not dangerous. Strapped to that gurney like a diseased rat and forced to perform tests on her everyday of her life. Not that Michael felt remotely sorry for the Magick.

No. Far from it, really. He saw the markings on her arms when she moved them, marked forever by the Ivs and tubes that had run from arm and leg into various machines that surrounded her. The sight had disturbed him, but not as much as her moving around freely in an enclosed space right next to him.

It wasn’t right, she had no right. Not after his Mommy and Daddy lay in graves in his home country of Taiwan. The reason he had came to America and joined the F.B.I. was to escape and destroy those who killed his only family. Not work with one to bring another to justice.

Michael shivered slightly in the warm cabin of the truck he sat shotgun in.

This wasn’t right….

* * *
We waited patiently in the Oval Office for the President of the United States of America for about 2 more hours after we arrived at the White House. Finally, once the sun had set, President Barack Obama walked through the hidden door in the wall. Although he walked through my field of vision, I did not break my gaze from the window as I took in my first sunset.

Agents Bretnore and Grant stood and saluted the President as he entered the room, and I had intended on doing so myself, but the view of the sky outside was so spectacular, I refused to be distracted from it.

President Obama sat in his large chair behind the ornately carved wooden desk before addressing me.

“Miss. Humphreys,” he began in a gentle voice, “Let me welcome you to Washington D.C.”

I immediately heard the enraged voice that filled Grants small head as his President said this.

“Thank you very much Mr. President,” I said, speaking for the very first time in my life.

The sound of my voice pleased me somewhat, but I saw the shivers run through Agent Grant when the sound hit his ears. Fighting a smile, I kept my attention on the President. His dark eyes stayed with mine for longer than most peoples, but like everyone else, he averted his gaze from me after only a few seconds.

“I understand the circumstances in which you must live, but I am offering not only a brief visit to the outside world, but possibly complete freedom if you fully cooperate and solve the case,” Obama said.

This I had expected and so my facial expression never wavered.

“And you expect me to believe that you will keep that promise?” I asked calmly, “That’s a chance I cannot take, even if it does come from the most powerful person in the country.”

Obama looked at me as though he had just swallowed a bug while the Special Agents stood in backlash to my words.

“How dare you!” Grant shouted, the sound of his voice reverberating off the stone and steel walls that surrounded us.

“Sir, we will take her back to the Facility, I apologize for wasting your time,” Bretnore said quickly as he moved towards the door to summon the security force.

“No,” Obama said, “She speaks the truth. You have every right not to trust me, and so, I’ll give you a full pardon as soon as we end this conversation. It’ll be an official document that will verify your release from the Alaska Facility as soon as the Magick we are after if in custody.”

Finally, after holding it back for the duration of the trip, I smiled.

“I guess I can accept that,” I said, my words receiving scoffs from everyone in the room except the President and myself.
“Sir, you cannot let her have power in any way shape or form,” Bretnore said in a voice that seemed both demanding and pleading.

“Agent Bretnore, Agent Grant, I ask you kindly to step out of the room while I brief our contact on the situation we are under,” a strong note of authority, that reminded me of the bitterness of the coffee bean, that shouted to be heard and felt, colored President Obama’s voice.

Slowly, the F.B.I agents let the room, Grant’s eyes never leaving me as he left.

“Please, Kiriel,” Obama signaled for the doctors to release me from my PlastiGlass prison, “Might I offer you anything to eat or drink?”

“I’d like a coffee if it’s not too much trouble,” I replied.

Ch. 3
We waited patiently in the Oval Office for the President of the United States of America for about 2 more hours after we arrived at the White House. Finally, once the sun had set, President Barack Obama walked through the hidden door in the wall. Although he walked through my field of vision, I did not break my gaze from the window as I took in my first sunset.

Agents Bretnore and Grant stood and saluted the President as he entered the room, and I had intended on doing so myself, but the view of the sky outside was so spectacular, I refused to be distracted from it.

President Obama sat in his large chair behind the ornately carved wooden desk before addressing me.

“Kiriel,” he began in a gentle voice, “Let me welcome you to Washington D.C.”

I immediately heard the enraged voice that filled Grants small head as his President said this.

“Thank you very much Mr. President,” I said, speaking for the very first time in my life to another person.

The sound of my voice pleased me somewhat, but I saw the shivers run through Agent Grant when the sound hit his ears. Fighting a smile, I kept my attention on the President. His dark eyes stayed with mine for longer than most peoples, but like everyone else, he averted his gaze from me after only a few seconds.

“I understand the circumstances in which you must live, but I am offering not only a brief visit to the outside world, but possibly complete freedom if you fully cooperate and solve the case,” Obama said.

This I had expected and so my facial expression never wavered.

“And you expect me to believe that you will keep that promise?” I asked calmly, “That’s a chance I cannot take, even if it does come from the most powerful person in the country.”

Obama looked at me as though he had just swallowed a bug while the Special Agents stood in backlash to my words.

“How dare you!” Grant shouted, the sound of his voice reverberating off the stone and steel walls that surrounded us.

“Sir, we will take her back to the Facility, I apologize for wasting your time,” Bretnore said quickly as he moved towards the door to summon the security force.

“No,” Obama said, “She speaks the truth. You have every right not to trust me, and so, I’ll give you a full pardon as soon as we end this conversation. It’ll be an official document that will verify your release from the Alaska Facility as soon as the Magick we are after if in custody.”

Finally, after holding it back for the duration of the trip, I smiled.

“I guess I can accept that,” I said, my words receiving scoffs from everyone in the room except the President and myself.

“Sir, you cannot let her have power in any way shape or form,” Bretnore said in a voice that seemed both demanding and pleading.

“Agent Bretnore, Agent Grant, I ask you kindly to step out of the room while I brief our contact on the situation we are under,” a strong note of authority, that reminded me of the bitterness of the coffee bean, shouting to be heard and felt, colored President Obama’s voice.

Slowly, the F.B.I agents let the room, Grant’s eyes never leaving me as he left.

“Please, Kiriel,” Obama signaled for the doctors to release me from my PlastiGlass prison, “Might I offer you anything to eat or drink?”

“I’d like a coffee if it’s not too much trouble,” I replied.

A box made of glass infused with plastic that held back most Magicks powers, me unincluded.

Ch. 4
Mike couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The President actually trusted that little daemon, wanted to offer her a full pardon from her sins. Although he was the President of the most powerful country in the world, he wasn’t God. He couldn’t forgive her sins. Not after what happened to his parents.

‘No, stop thinking that way. We have a bigger fish to fry,’ he told himself as he walked down the halls from the Oval Office.

Although she’s the most powerful Magick the world has ever seen, she wasn’t the most wanted. They had her in captivity… for now. Until the Presidential Pardon became valid, she was still theirs. They needed to kill her as soon as she fulfilled her end of the bargain, no… Michael needed to kill her. Taiwan is a hell on Earth thanks to her people. But first, he’d have to settle for killing Orenja Fantannast, the Magick who is their current, primary concern. As soon as he was eliminated, Mike promised that he would kill Kiriel.

* * *
The fresh air surrounded me when we left the stuffy office of the President, his Presidential Pardon to me was folded in the pocket of the jacket he let me have. Nice man… too bad he’s a human. Agents Bretnore and Grant held me by both arms in some form of restraint, even though the President ordered them not to harm me or restrain me in any way during my investigation.

As we walked down the private drive to the official looking black SUV, his words repeated themselves in my mind.

‘Orenja Fantannast is the most dangerous Magick besides you. At the moment, he is making his way around the country on a killing spree. He leaves a calling card the night previous to each killing. They vary from ordinary citizens to celebrities to highly respected officials. Why he is doing this, no one knows, but we do know that he is likely to be in Tampa Bay at the moment. Another Magick, not unlike yourself is stationed there as part an under cover operation. You are to meet him at 7:30 pm tomorrow at an out of the way cafe,’ the President had said, ‘Oh, and Kiriel, please, work cooperatively with my Agents and our contact to bring in Fantannast. We’re all counting on you.’

Big responsibility, but nothing I couldn’t handle really. On my way out, he wrote up the Pardon and handed it to me. His dark skin crawled as it came into contact with mine, cold and pale. In the back of the SUV, behind a PlastiGlass shield away from the Agents no less, I tuned back in to AC/DC. I then laid down and gave myself away to the voices of Brian Johnson and Bon Scott, and the sound of Angus Young on the guitar, while the rest of the band played alongside them.

I could feel him somewhere, it was in the Tampa Bay area, but not where the government thought he was. It was hard, of course, to pin him down; but I believe that if it was easy, they would doubt me and find a way to condemn me. So, just as I have been keeping my mind a secret from the rest of the world, I kept the fact that I knew the relative location to our little pilgrim.

It was another five hour trip from Washington D.C. to Tampa Bay on the same private jet from our trip from the Alaska Facility. I took the time to examine the Pardon and eat more food that I had only heard about.

Another favorite came to me as I stared out the darkened window into the space above the clouds we were in. Bacon. Although it dripped in grease and fat, it slid very nicely along my tongue and down my throat into my stomach. I ate bacon and drank coffee long after the Agents were asleep. I knew there would be consequences to my binge, but at the moment, I lived up the flavors that came with the coffee and bacon.

* * *
In Tampa Bay, Florida, Orenja Fantannast stood outside the St. Pete Times Forum watching people walk by. How idiotic they were, humans. They knew just about everything about his past and almost everything on his current location, and yet they had no idea who he was or what he looked like. He had already foreseen that someone would finally take him down, and soon at that, but for now, he relished in the idea of an entire country out for his head on a pole but not even knowing what he looked like.

With a slight smirk, he left his post to prepare himself for the next slaughter….

Ch. 5
A chuckle split the silent air of the darkened building. My senses were dulled by something in the air making it impossible to see or even hear the other planes. Then something crossed my vision, a figure dressed in white, his skin paler than the clothes he wore. As fast as he appeared, he disappeared into the ever thickening darkness. Frustrated, I took off in the relative direction I had seen him go.

Another chuckle hit my dulled senses; this time it was a woman’s. I turned slowly to see a ghost from my past staring me down… a malicious smile on her perfect face.

I awoke with a start in my seat. The sudden movement of me awakening sent me flying off the cushioned airline seat and onto the floor. After my fall, the pain hit me harder than the doctors had hit me as a child. The pain crippled me, so great it was, I knew that it couldn’t be from my feast last night. Then I picked out the low chuckles around me from my companions on the investigation of Orenja Fantannast, my little pilgrim.

Slowly, I picked myself up from the floor and sat easily back in the hard seat I was confined to, but not before closing the shades to the glaring sunlight outside.

‘Of course,’ I thought to myself, ‘The sun’s ten times brighter up here unfiltered through the clouds.’

It wasn’t until after I had returned to the safety of my seat that I noticed a file in front of me.

“Fantannast left another calling card last night. St. Pete Times Forum, a hockey arena,” Bretnore explained when I picked it up and opened.

I quickly read through the thin folder containing the report on the calling card, a store mannequin dressed up as a hockey player with Fantannast’s insignia spray-painted on the front of the jersey. The calling cards varied from location to location, the last one being the head from a previous victim with his insignia carved into the shaved head. It all seemed a very juvenile way of expressing his frustration towards the humans.

Sipping my coffee, I listened to the news my friends were watching. The only interesting topic was my release; a man named Dr. Phil was analyzing my personality and forming hypothetical scenarios to demonstrate why I should be re-incarcerated and finally executed. The look on this bristly mans face was priceless as he addressed the camera in an attempt to convince the U.S. government to not let me continue living freely after the case was closed.

Not too soon after the program wrapped up, the plane landed in the humid climate of Florida. Even from the controlled climate of the airplane, I could feel the heat that radiated from the clear sunlit skies and off the black paved runway of the airport.

“Remember Kiriel,” Bretnore’s nasally tone said to me as we walked down the heated runway, “You are to meet with our contact at….”

“7:30 pm at the Inspiration Café on Turtle Drive,” I looked up at him from over my darkened sunglasses, a gift given to me by a woman who felt I needed a proper wardrobe besides the prison garbs I had worn since being released, “Don’t worry Mr. Bretnore, I have an excellent memory,” I winked at him before returning my gaze to the path before me.

I could hear the neurons of his brain fire as he gulped when I had winked at him; on the other side of me, Grant gave a low grunt.

A small smile crossed my lips, ‘This is going to be way too easy.’

The journey through the streets of Tampa Bay was quite fun and liberating in many ways. An old woman almost fell into the streets, but I was able to move fast enough to save her from becoming tonight’s tragic story on the news, and still disappear before I joined her. Although I didn’t like the heat the Florida weather pounded onto my being, I enjoyed simply being out in the open air and being able to smell anything but the sterile environment of the Alaskan Penitentiary.

“Ah,” I said once spotting the Inspiration Café tucked in between a Borders book shop, I made a note of trying to visit that place some time, and a typical Floridian beach front supply shop, complete with mannequins displaying the current hottest trends in swimwear.

The café had the option of sitting inside in a fan controlled climate or under the eaves with gentle mists to keep you cool as you drank coffee, ate biscotti, another new favorite, and listen to local small time artists perform covers of famous songs or poems they turned into songs. Mainly the poetry was subjected to heartbreak and the woe that followed.

I sat for some time, I was about half an hour early for my appointment with our contact, and listened to the music selection. Some of it was, to my great pleasure, my favorite style of Rock ‘N Roll, but others were what the humans called ‘rap’ and it included explicit details of what the men wanted to do with women they knew or hoped to know.

“Hello, you must be Kiriel,” an angelic voice said from beside me.

Sitting before me was a demigod, carved straight from the marble the Olympians used in ancient times to depict their overlords.

“Yes,” I said, keeping calm in the presence of the God before me.



Of course, the first thing I noticed about him was his eyes; they were dark but held a fire in them that I knew could never be snuffed out and the brow that covered them was a hard line of determination. His skin looked the color of the caramel that topped my coffee, while his lips were full and soft looking.

“My name is Carlos Rodriguez,” he said again in that wonderful voice of his, “I believe I am your contact in the investigation of Orenja Fantannast.”

“I believe you are correct Mr. Rodriguez,” I smiled.

“Please, call me Carlos,” he said.

“Carlos,” I whispered his name, it felt wonderful on my lips as it rolled off my tongue.

“I noticed you do not have a last name,” he said when his coffee came to him, “might I inquire as to why?”

“I’d rather not talk about it in such a public place, Carlos,” I told him before taking a sip of the still piping hot coffee before me.

He looked around the room and saw the four agents who had followed me here, “Ah,” he began, “I see what you mean.”

“Yes,” I said with a small chuckle, “Apparently, if you have the ability to bend time and space at will with powers that no one but yourself and a dying or imprisoned race has, they never let you out of their sights.”

“And here this country was built on the notion of freedom and the rights of a citizen,” he said leaning forward.

I smelt the coffee on his breath as well as in the air, along with something else that clung to his skin, something oaky and woodsy. It reminded me of a time before my imprisonment. I leaned forward towards him, discreetly inhaling his scent.

“I think that the lines between freedom and equality have been blurred over the past century or so,” I said, tasting his breath on my tongue as he breathed only inches from my face.

“Shall we take our conversation somewhere more… private?” he asked, looking once again around the crowded room.
“Alright, I think they need our table anyway,” I said with a smile.

Ch. 6

A large crowd came into the already crowded café just as we packed cleaned up out table and headed out. The sky outside had turned dark, a healthy sea breeze wafted over us as we walked through the streets of Tampa Bay. Eventually, we ended up on Clearwater Beach. The pure white sands seemed to glow in the full moon’s light. We took our shoes off and walked the along the waters edge.

“It’s beautiful out here,” I said in a whisper, afraid that any loud noise would shatter the dream I was in, “I think this is the most beautiful place I’ve ever been to.”

“I know how you feel,” Carlos said, “But it’s definitely not the most beautiful thing I’ve seen.”

Something in his accent was sly. A cool breeze flowed across the water, making me shiver. Once he caught sight of my frame shaking in the cold night, he shucked off his jacket and placed it around my shoulders. I looked up in confusion at Carlos, just as a bolt of lightning split the air with a sharp crack in the distance. He broke our gaze to watch the light dance across the salty water, illuminating the beach around us.

“Do you smell that?” he asked.

I took a whiff of the air around us; something lurked beneath the salt of the ocean.

“What is that?” I asked, “It seems so familiar.”

“Power, in its raw form,” he said, a dark look furrowed his brow line.”

“Should we see what it is?” I asked, ‘or whom?’

“Ladies first,” he smiled and gestured forward.

The signature left behind by the powerful entity led us toward the St. Pete Times Forum and through a service door that was hanging open. Before heading in, we looked at each other one last time and nodded. No need to involve the suits in Magick business.

Inside, the trail ended suddenly at the boards separating the crowd from the ice surface. Handprints on the glass suggested whoever we were chasing both stood here and looked out at the rink or….

I looked up to see a figure move across the shadows in the rafters.

“There,” I whispered pointing upwards subtly.

Carlos bent forward to whisper in my ear, “Go left and up the stairs, I’ll cover things down here.”


I nodded, a strange feeling stirring in my abdomen. I’d never really been around persons of the opposite sex in close contact unless they were beating me or strapping and sticking me with something or other. But this was different, I sensed no hate at all from him and when I talked, he actually looked me in the eye, not off somewhere else pretending that I’m just a little voice inside his head.

‘Shut up!’ I scolded myself, ‘We need to focus on getting Fantannast. Then I can go free and…’

And what?

I’ve never really thought about what to do once I got out. They don’t give you life lessons in the Penitentiary, nor do they give you any sort of education. The only reason I know so much was because I can read minds and I was able to receive information from the minds around me and in the outside world.

This was going to be a problem….

Ch. 7
“Sir, we have a problem,” said the undercover agent keeping an eye on Kiriel and the contact, Carlos Olivera.

“What now?” Bretnore asked his voice grating through the headphones like nails on a chalkboard.

“We lost them,” the agent said in an apologetic voice.

“Damn!!!” Bretnore shouted into the microphone, “Find them!”

“There’s a storm outside,” the agent said in a confused voice.

Bretnore and Grant looked outside to see the view over Tampa Bay was obscured by rain and lightning.

“Phone it in,” Grant said into his microphone, “We have a Code Red.”

* * *

A female’s voice whispered in my ear, “This way child.”

I whipped around to see who was there… only to find nothing. The voice moved, as did a scent, like the scent that clung to the air after a rain shower in the summer. It seemed so familiar, yet I couldn’t place it. A report split through the air and the scent vanished.

“Who are you?” a cold voice said.

“I mean no harm,” I said, putting my hands up in surrender, “I was curious as to why the door to a secured building was wide open.”

“I don’t really think that’s any business of yours,” the voice said, the cold steel of a gun pressed into the lower of my back.

Then a scent crossed over me….

‘Carlos!’

He came from nowhere and knocked the gun from Fantannast’s hand and sent it flying somewhere into the darkness. I whipped around to strike him again, but he was gone.

“Shit! He’s a Teleporter !” I cried.

“We’d better leave, I found the bomb he was planting and got rid of it,” Carlos said pulling me towards the exit.

But I didn’t listen. I pulled myself from his grip and ran to where the gun was. The reports shattered the air with a thunderous crack in the confined space.

“Come back *******!!!” I screamed.

Strong arms encircled me and carried me away from the scene. Try as I might, Carlos’ grip was too strong for even me. He held onto me as he walked through the parking lot, the streets were filled with the lights of dozens of police cars. A bomb squad and a S.W.A.T. team were setting up to make their way into the sealed off building. By the time we had made our way back onto the beach, I had stopped struggling and was starring angrily out in front of me.

“We could have had him you know?” I said in an angry voice.

“If we kill him, the government will come after us,” he said calmly.

Not responding, I kept my eyes on the moon over the horizon; a round, full moon, its bottom almost touching the surface of the water.

“Besides,” Carlos went on, I smelled his skin as he came up behind me and placed his hands on my shoulders, “It wouldn’t be as much fun just letting him die so soon. We’ve only just met, don’t you think there should be a little more fun in finding our pilgrim,” he whispered.

“I guess so,” I said finally.

I turned around to face him, looking once again looking into his dark brown eyes. They were dark but in the moonlight, they shone somewhat, like the surface of coffee. The air in my lungs stopped, my breath catching sharply in my throat.

‘If only we didn’t have to worry about the ****in’ government, maybe we could escape,’ my mind said of it’s own accord, ‘If only we weren’t the most feared creatures on the planet.’

He let my shoulders go, looking over my shoulder.

“Well Kiriel,” he said, his voice caressing me in the darkness, “I had a lot of fun. Oh, and… here’s what I was able to dig up on our pilgrim,” he handed me a thick manila folder,” then he bent forward once more to whisper into my ear, “Along with a spare key to my room, if you ever want to discuss the case.”

I sensed something else lurking in his voice, but I couldn’t place it. As he let me go and stood to leave, his lips brushed against my neck, sending shivers through my body. When he was about fifty feet away, Agents Grant and Bretnore came up from behind me and tackled me to the ground.

“Agh!! Hey! What the **** are you doing?” I shouted.

“What did he dive you?!” Grants shout rang in my ear.

“Just the information he got on Fantannast! Let me up!” I yelled even louder.

“I don’t think so,” Bretnore said, “You ran from the Federal Agents that were tagging you. You’re going back to Alaska,” I felt the cold steel of handcuffs being locked around my wrists, followed by the burn of Mercury Oxide .

“I did not! I can’t help a crowd came in when we found a trail that led us to Fantannast,” I explained, hopping they didn’t find Carlos’ room key, “We didn’t run, I swear!”

“And you expect me to believe that, Witch ?” Grant snarled.

I felt the rage inside me grow until it was apparent on my face, but I didn’t act upon it so as to not give them more incentive to prosecute me with. Roughly, they pulled me off of the sand and steered me towards the black SUV waiting not too far down the beach. As they bound, gagged, and blinded me, I retreated into the farthest reaches of my mind to escape the hell I was in.

Ch. 8
Finally Grant had something legit to get the little Witch put away for good. Maybe even executed.

‘I'd pay money to see that,’ he thought happily, ‘A Mercury Oxide dip or injection.’

As Bretnore drove, Grant found himself fantasizing the best way to kill a Magick with Mo. In the back, the Witch sat in a catatonic state as they made their way through the streets of Tampa Bay waking up to a new day of work and manual labor.

‘Mo inhalation and injection,’ he finally decided, ‘Maximum pain and slowest death.’

* * *
‘****!’ Fantannast thought when he rematerialized in the small one bedroom apartment he had taken over.

He hadn’t counted on the big guy sneaking up behind him and stabbing him in the ribs. The knife slid out painfully and clattered to the floor of the bathroom. Fantannast staggered over to the bathtub and turned the hot water on full blast.

‘One pain to drown out another,’ he thought, remembering the teachings of his older brother back in Taiwan.

The scalding hot water blistered his skin as Fantannast lowered himself into the tub. Once the water hit the wound in his side, the water turned red with his blood.

“It’s the only way, little brother,” the voice of Shiroton Fantannast said into his ear.

* * *



The trip from Tampa Bay to the White House was a brief one. I didn’t sleep the entire way, but watched Grant prepare notes for his appeal to the President to execute me. I had already probed into his mind and saw why he has a personal vendetta against me, but I felt it didn’t excuse why he acted like I was a germ or nasty bug. In my back pocket, the key card to Carlos’ room still sat, the scent of his skin was still strong and it made my head swim, unable to concentrate on blocking out the humans beside me.

“Sir!” Grant’s voice cut through my mind like a sharp blade.

I looked around me, unaware that we had already landed and were now in the Oval Office. President Obama sat at his desk with a mask of rage on his features. His fist came down on the dark wood with a mighty crash.

“You have provoked my anger for the last time Agent Grant! You are now on suspension,” Obama bellowed with the force of a God, “As are you Agent Bretnore!”

“But Mr. President! She can’t be trusted on her own! She could just as well go on a killing spree as soon as you let her loose!” Bretnore protested.

“But she won’t,” the President insisted.

“I swear by the head of my most ancient ancestors the I shall do nothing to harm anybody Magick or Human in my quest to find and destroy Orenja Fantannast along with the help of Carlos Olivera. If I should go back on this oath, may all my Magick be purged from my body and be recycled into an innocent as I die a most horrific and painful death. Should you go back on your word and seek to destroy me, may the Gods grant me favor and set me free to never be bothered upon again. Once my mission is complete under the terms that the President of the United States of America, Mr. Barack Hussein Obama, has given me, I shall return to this spot immediately after to present my letter of Presidential Pardon. Afterwards, I shall disappear off the face of the public eye to never harm anyone or anything ever again,” I said so suddenly that everyone in the room jumped.

“So…” Obama said looking accusingly at the Agents before him, “You heard her. That was the Sacrum Oath . Every word must ring true otherwise she would have collapsed on the floor in agony. Are you tow satisfied?”

They said nothing but kept their eyes on my face in utter shock at how the words that had erupted from my vocal cords rang with an otherworldly presence.

“Now get out of my office before I call security to escort you out,” Obama said with finality in his voice.


Slowly, the C.I.A. Agents walked from the room through the hidden door. I watched Grant closely as his hands balled up into fists and a vein in his temple pulsed with his anger.

“Well then, Kiriel,” Obama said once the door had closed, “I am very impressed you would go to such an extreme to prove you are willing to cooperate.”

“I felt it was necessary to prove my worth more than my cooperation,” I said.

“Either way, the case is in your hands now,” he said, “Do your best to bring Fantannast in.”

“I shall sir,” I bowed to show my respect and understanding.

“Release her and give her the license to allow her to use all her abilities to bring in Fantannast,” Obama said to the security guards standing on either side if me.

The shackles of Mo fell from my wrist, ankles and torso in a heap at the floor before a man placed a card into my palm. On it was my picture along with all the information required if someone needed to check and double check the verification of my legality.

“Now go and do your job,” he said.

Ch. 14

Satan burst through the doors of the Weapons and Surveillance Center with Romanis on his heals. He/She looked around the room at the monitors and the weapons the scientists were working on. Romanis watched with a wary eye as his father walked around the room and surveyed they people as they worked. Then Satan walked over to the gigantic throne-like chair on one side of the room and sat in it as though he/she was taking over things.

‘I basically am,’ he thought with glee, ‘I knew my insolent son could never take on the task of ruling a world. He’s already ****ed it up and he isn’t even millennia old yet.’

The humans around in looked in confusion as a child sat in their ruler’s throne and looked ready to give orders. For a full minute, no one moved, they just all stared at their ruler with the expectation to throw the child before them out of the room and on to be executed. But that wasn’t going to happen.

“Well,” Satan’s voice said through the small girl in the huge chair, “Get back to work!”

Romanis walked slowly over to his Father and collapsed on the small steps leading up to his throne. Satan looked down at his weary son and made a face of utter disgust.

“Go back to the sick bay, son,” he/she said, “We don’t need you getting sick all over this delicate equipment.”

When he didn’t move, two guards came over to help their Lord.

“Leave him!” Satan said, “He must learn to walk on his own!”

Mumbling apologies, they retreated back to their work.

* * *
“Glenn, what does this look like to you?” Alex asked.

“It’s just a bit of spilled sealant,” Scythe said after only taking a quick glance at the spot Alex indicated.

“I thought so, too at first, but look what happens when I run the detector over it,” he said.

As he ran the thin metal rod over the blob of clear goop, it quivered slightly, as if alive.

“Oh shi-,” Glenn said a second before snatching up his communicator.

“All members of the Resistance report to the meeting hall immediately,” Scythe’s voice rang loud and clear through the passageways of the facility, “Kay! We have a Code Orange.”

Half an hour later, they were jam packed into the meeting room, in the center of the round table a small blob of what looked like gel was displayed on the HoloScreen. Anna, Faye, Kay, Brian, Angus and Sidney were all gathered along with Glenn and Alex in a far corner of the room. After some time, they finally broke their huddle and walked over to the table.

“Alright,” Anastasia said, rage was very much apparent in her angelic voice, “Whoever is responsible for this… come forth now or we will have to forced to take drastic measures.”

A cacophony of noises met their ears after she had finished her sentence.

“What do you mean?” Riley asked.
“What the **** is that thing?” Mike shouted from the other side of the table.

“Do we have a traitor or something?” Bruce asked.

“YES!” Kay said climbing up onto the table, “We have a traitor amongst us! And he or she had better step forward before we have to do individual interviews. And don’t think it’ll take a long time no…. It’ll go quickly I guarantee it. But this place will be on lock-down until the traitor is brought to justice!”

“Hey, where’s Slay?” Grey asked.

Everyone with the ability to do so listened to the sounds above and around them in order to find Slay. The sound that reached them was the sound of a truck’s engine warming up in the frigid climate of the storage room. Without a second thought, Kay was gone in a flash.

Ten stories above the meeting room, Slay sat in a truck filled up with enough supplies to get him to Paris in good time. But that didn’t mean immediately taking off without having to warm up the truck’s engine.

‘**** me,’ he said as another round of shivers rattled his teeth, ‘What is this? The 22nd Century.’

He hit a button and a hot blast of air smacked him in his face.

“Finally,” slay said, putting the truck into gear.

“Going somewhere?” Kay asked from the seat beside him.

“Oh shi-,” Slay said before the door beside him was ripped off and he was dragged out onto the cold hard floor.

“So then,” Sid’s voice said from somewhere on top of the truck cabin, “Did you really think we’d let you get away?”

“No but you’re stupid enough to fall for my act,” he smiled through blood that had appeared suddenly along with a pain in his jaw.

“Really? So all the, ‘I’m sorry. I never meant what I said to you online. All those insults were just a joke.’ That was all bullshit?” Kyrie asked, her eyes danced in a fiery rage.

“You really are daft aren’t you?” he asked.

“No just pissed,” she said before ripping his throat out.

great story Kay

just wrote this for a couple of my friends in school

Kayla Welling sat in the freshly cleaned apartment reading the assigned material for English 116. She had spent her entire Saturday morning cleaning the mess her roommate had accumulated over the past month and a half. Of course, there was one sanctum that she dared not to even think about entering: her roomie’s room. With a shudder, she remembered the last time she had to trek through the mess her roommate called a room. Then the sound Kayla had dreaded all morning seemed to screech throughout the apartment… a key turning in the lock.

Kirsten Harper had returned.

Was band over already? Or did she skip again?

“Hey roomie,” Kirsten’s voice floated through the cramped hallway and into the living room.

The sound of Kirsten’s trumpet case and book bag hitting the freshly washed hardwood floor sent another shiver down Kayla’s spine. The paperback book in her hands fell to the carpet as she saw the new mess Kirsten was dragging in.

In her hands Kirsten held a tattered McDonald’s bag, and in the other what looked like….

“Ummm Kirsten?” she said in a small voice as her roommate put her keys on the bookshelf.

“Yeah dood?” Kirsten stopped and gave Kayla her full attention.

“We’ve been friends for a long time right? We went to school together, we graduated high school together,” she stood up to keep from throwing something at her, “Can you answer me a question?”

“Sure dood, shoot,” Kirsten said plopping down on the just cleaned white Lazy Boy.

“When did you become such a slob?” she asked in a tense voice.

“I’ve always been like this,” Kirsten laughed, “Didn’t you ever see my locker?”

“Fortunately not,” she murmured.

“Well let me make it up to ya,” Kirsten said.

“You’ll clean that atrocious room of yours?” Kayla asked hopefully.

“No,” Kirsten laughed again, “I was gonna give you some of my fries.”

That was the breaking point. Kayla grabbed the book she dropped and threw it with all he might at Kirsten. The book flew straight and true from the tennis players hand and smacked the professional slacker in the head.

A look that said, “WTF?” crossed Kirsten’s face as the book fell to the floor once more.

“You wanna play it that way, B?” she asked as she set the McDonalds bag in the chair behind her.

“Bring it on,” Kayla said.

They flew at each other and began slapping one another in the face, arms and wherever else they could reach.

“Ow, quit it!” Kirsten cried.

“No!” Kayla disagreed.

Kirsten grabbed the flimsy book from the floor and began batting Kayla in the head with it. Kayla grabbed a pillow and retaliated. And so the battle went on around the apartment, they took whatever they could grab and slapped each other until someone pounded on the wall next door. The two girls collapsed on the floor in a heap, the formerly spotless apartment now a mess with food from the kitchen and clothes from the hamper in the bathroom.

“Truce dood?” Kirsten panted.

“Truce,” Kayla agreed.

“I think I’ll go clean my room,” Kirsten said.

“Before you pass out with Jon and Kate Plus 8 on?” Kayla asked.

“You got it!” Kirsten gave a thumb up.

Shaking her head, Kayla found the Windex and rubber gloves and began cleaning the pop that had exploded on the tiles in the kitchen.

‘Just another day in college for two friends I guess,’ she thought.

i like it Kay, keep it going

needs More intercourse

The Café

It was a cold and windy day outside.

‘Phew. Good thing I’m in here,’ Kirsten thought.

Inside the café, it was warmer than Texas in July, and the only time people actually enjoyed the climate Old Warner Bronson kept 24/7. The college students from all over the country sat in peace and sipped coffee as they talked or typed on laptops. Every so often someone would open the door to the frigid outdoors and the room would come alive with moans and curses.

At around 3:00 pm, the door opened once more and the room cursed the cold. Kayla walked through and apologized to everyone she passed as she made her way to the counter.

“What up roomie?” Kirsten said when Kayla passed, but she wither didn’t hear or ignored Kirsten.

Kayla spent little time at the counter to order her usual coffee, and then found the only seat available in the café. Right next to Kirsten….

‘Great,’ Kayla thought, ‘Just what I need when I’m trying to type up a paper.’

“So…,” Kirsten said as Kayla sat at the small, round table identical to all of the others, “What’s up?”

“Oh nothing,” she replied, “Just trying to get some work done.”

“Cool, cool,” Kirsten mumbled.

For some time, they sat in silence, the only sound that met their ears was the sound of fingers typing and coffee being drank. Then Kirsten, never being one to stay quiet for long, spoke in a whisper to her high school buddy.

“So how’s college treating you?” she whispered.

“Fine,” Kayla replied in a curt whisper.

She nodded and took a sip of her Beanaccino, “What are you working on?”’

“My English report,” she whispered, again speaking in a curt voice, “It’s due tomorrow so please, shhh.”

“Come on,” Kirsten said barely above a whisper so as not to disturb the other café patrons, “Can’t we talk?”
“To tell you the truth?” Kayla looked up from her work, “Not really.”

“Whatever,” Kirsten said in a dismissive voice.

“Do you wanna play it that way?” Kayla asked, her voice was no longer a whisper.

“Let’s do this, man,” Kirsten stood to prove her emphasis.

“What’ll it be this time then?” Kayla shut down her laptop with a smile.

“Guitar Hero *****,” Kirsten slapped the back of her right hand into her left palm, “Let’s do this.”

Two and a half hours later, the score was tied at 15.

“One more, one more!” Kirsten shouted as Kayla celebrated her victory after they played Carry On My Wayward Son by Kansas, “Tie breaker, dood.”

“Last one, and when you loose, you loose,” she said as she scrolled through the set-list.

She settled on Ace of Spades by Metallica and they chose their respective settings. At first, the score was in Kirsten’s favor until….

“No not the lefty-flip!” Kirsten called out in agony over the thrashing guitar.

“Taste my wrath!” Kayla laughed.

“Argh!” and then it was too late, “Nooooooooooooooooo!!!!” Kirsten fell to the floor in defeat.

“Well?” Kayla said after shutting down the gaming system.

“Kayla Welling is the best there ever will be in Guitar Hero and I won’t bother her for the rest of the week,” Kirsten said.

“You forgot one more thing,” Kayla said pointing in the direction of the bathroom.

“Come on,” Kirsten said in a pleading tone.

“Nope,” Kayla shook her head, “You promised.”

“Okay,” Kirsten stood up from the carpeted floor, “Wanna go get some McDonald’s first?”

“No,” Kayla said with finality.

Wait, I actually pissed you off so much that you had to write a story about you brutally killing me?

Bit sad, innit?

Slay's too beautiful to die

i needed a traitor in the midst
i just so happened to choose the one person on my ignore list
i wasnt mad or anything when i wrote it
it was simply a necessity

EDIT: typo fixed

i know its not fiction but im bored as **** awehawe


An All Out Brawl

When people talk about ice hockey, the first thing that usually comes to mind is fighting. Fighting is perhaps the most well-known and enjoyed aspect of hockey and is the factor considered one of the most important. Many players take pride in their skills as fighters, also known as “enforcers”, causing them to spend a lot of time honing their skills. Fighting is also the most controversial topic in hockey as it causes many problems and consequences. However, due to the potential to completely change a game as well as games to come, fighting in all levels of ice hockey should not be banned.

Granted, there are severe injuries that can result from a fight. According to an expert panel dealing with concussions, “Fighting is one of the known causes of concussion, and may result in the related long-term complications. Fighting can cause needless death.” Whether it comes from being punched repeatedly in the head or from falling onto the ice, the most severe and yet common injury in a hockey fight is a concussion. Very few deaths are a result of fighting, the first recorded being in January of 2009 who fell into a coma after a fight and passed away three weeks later. But it was this instance that rekindled the cries to ban fighting from all levels of hockey.

However, a sense of intimidation sets into the minds of other teams when someone wins a fight. An enforcer is an unofficial role of a hockey team, also referred to as a “tough guy”, “fighter”, or “goon”, who deter or respond to the dirty plays by the opposing team. One known instance of an enforcer hired to intimidate another team is Bob Dill who was hired by the New York Rangers to rough up Maurice “Rocket” Richard. The result was Richard knocking Dill out cold twice in a single game. The opposite of an enforcer is referred to as a “pest”, or agitator. These players are used to anger, annoy or distract other players in order to cause them to draw a penalty. Some notable pests include Matt Cooke of the Pittsburgh Penguins, Jarkko Ruutu of the Ottawa Senators and Sean Avery of the New York Rangers.

Of course, there are players that are hired simply because of their fighting capabilities. Many fighters use tactics in fighting which include to grab the other persons jersey to not only hold yourself upright but to keep them at a distance from you but close enough to be able to hit them. An “instigator” of a fight is the person who is said to cause the fight. As a result, he is penalized an extra two minutes and his team is left a man short, as part of the recently added “Instigator Rule”. Etiquette incorporated into fighting, but not enforced by the NHL rulebook, includes agreeing beforehand to a fight, usually via verbal or physical means, and respecting a rival who declines to a fight. This is because winning a fight when the opposition is injured or sick leaves an empty victory over them, this in mind, the player is granted a “free pass” from fighting that particular game. Fairness and gracefully losing or winning are two other examples of etiquette used by enforcers.

Nevertheless, star players of a team always need to be protected so they can play to their best possible ability. Wayne Gretzky, perhaps the greatest hockey player in history, has had many players hired to protect him out on the ice. Another player, known as the Great One, Mario Lemieux has had many enforcers to guard his performance in the rink. Perhaps the quintessential hockey player, acting as both an enforcer and phenomenal scorer, was Gordie Howe. An unofficial statistic, named after Howe, is an achievement few teams have claimed. The Gordie Howe Hat Trick is when a player participates in a fight, records a goal, and an assist in a game, as opposed to the regular hat trick where a player records three goals in one game.

One must admit that if one person steps out of line, their team can be penalized and end up a man short. In amateur leagues such as the one in England, a player who participates in a fight receives a ten-minute misconduct penalty and is fined as well as being possibly suspended from play. Sometimes a fight gets too out of hand, like what took place on March 5, 2009 with the Philadelphia Flyers and the Ottawa Senators which included many fights between players not normally known as enforcers a well as goaltenders Robert Esche and Patrick Lalime. The game ended with the NHL record for most penalty minutes, four hundred and nineteen. Penalties are categorized into two groups; major, five minutes, and minor, two minutes, that is determined by either the referees or NHL headquarters in Toronto.
Still the potential to turn the tide over to the other team is always a factor when one team is dominating a game. This is called momentum in hockey. If a team is up by a number of points and the other team is making some very bad plays, they sometimes need a fight in order to get them going on the right track. However, there are two different types of momentum that can change a game, or season, for good. Negative momentum results when a team’s player loses a fight on home turf, this gives the crowd negative emotions that can translate into more bad plays. Positive momentum is when a player wins a fight on home turf when their team is losing and the crowd gets more into the game, the result; better scoring chances and a sense of hope in a dismal situation.

Hence, fighting in ice hockey is a factor that cannot be eliminated because of its ability to change games and players. Although many negative reactions can result after a fight, there are, consequently, positive reactions. AS the Toronto Maple Leafs owner, Conn Smythe, once said, “If you can’t beat ‘em in the alley, you can’t beat ‘em on the ice.” This statement holds true for many reasons, and those are the reasons that people like Georges Laraque and Eric Godard still look for fights every game they’re in. Thus, it is people like Laraque and Godard that make hockey’s most exciting aspect of the game, a part of the game.

The Resistance

Prologue
Marko Romanis seemed like a usual semi-innocent politician when, in the year 2150, he ran for president of the United Earth Sphere Coalition. It had been almost a hundred years since all the countries of Earth made peace and formed the U.E.S.C. Every ten years or so, they held a worldwide election, made easy by the technology of the times, in order to decide on a new president. Over the hundred years that spanned the U.E.S.C.’s existence, they had ten elections which resulted in four American presidents, three French, two British and one German.
Every country is protected by the Declaration of Unity, similar the Declaration of Independence drawn up by the original Americans in the 1700’s. Under that protection, they kept their boundaries, and each had a Representative in the Coalition that met once a month to discuss the various needs of the world. After the first two elections, they had ended world hunger, prohibited the deadliest drugs known to man, and created new ones that were not only alternatives, but beneficial to one’s health.
The third, fourth, and fifth terms saw the eradication of terrorism and religious disputes, no matter how large or small. The final five elections proved strong in upholding the peace and unity set forth by the previous half as well as usher in a new age of technology. With the addition of tracers placed into the arm of every person on Earth, crime was all but eliminated from the public and private eye. But police and military forces were still in effect to establish a sense of security into the citizens of the U.E.S.C.
Mr. Romanis came from a wealthy Russian name, but it was his charm, not his money, that led him deep into politics. It was the kind of charm that could swoon women as well as enthrall men. A former war veteran, he fought hard in the Franco Wars of 2040 when the U.E.S.C. was still drawing up the documents to hold them together. The French Protested and declared war on the rest of the world. They erected walls around their capital city of aris that still stand to this day. For sixty years the French stayed barricaded within their city walls, completely shut out from the outside world around them. After the sixty years of tyranny under the hand of Jacques Rofliairé, they decided it was best to surrender and join instead of to continue to crumble.
No one knew that this highly decorated war hero who had fought seven battles in his career as General of the Russian army would literally take over the world. As soon as Romanis was inaugurated into office on February 17th, 2151 not only threw the rules out but decreed them blasphemy. He reinstated the church and placed it in the only position relatively close to himself in power. He hid the Declaration of Unity, its location only known by him; the others who were involved in its removal from power were all killed and exiled once the deed was completed.
He instated a Secret Police made up of werewolves and outlawed all other species of Magicks. Disappearances took place nightly, and they happened to anybody. Once the Wolves showed up, the person or persons they took were never seen again and those who knew them wished them a quick death devoid of pain. Those opposing Romanis’ rules not only looked forward to the next election, but also were ready to kill Romanis as soon as the position of power had passed from his hands onto the next president.
But the election never took place. Not after his ten year term was up, not after twenty years, not even after thirty years in office. Without the Declaration, Romanis claimed, he didn’t have to pass the torch; he could, and would, reign forever. But as the decades came and went, Romains never aged a bit. He still looked like the youthful General that conquered the French forces who tried to invade neighboring England. Even after all of his supporters and political acquaintances turned to dust in the wind, his words were vibrant and strong in his speeches, and he didn’t look a day over 45.
Yet, as he spread his hand of power and influence across the globe and the galaxy, an underground resistance movement stirred. It grew. It thrived. Made up of Magicks and mortals alike, they trained and readied themselves for the day of Romains’ downfall. Whether it is at their hands, or the hands of time, they were prepared. And unbeknownst to him, his reign would soon be at an end.

Ch. 1
Two pairs of eyes peered into the clearing; they looked over the expanse of green lawn and to the mansion sitting in the middle of the field like clearing. With a nod to each other, the owners of the eyes leapt from their perch in the tree in a grand arc through the nighttime air. At the peak of their arc, they became nothing but two silhouettes on the ever-full moon.
After what seemed like an eternity, the figures feet touched the grass so softly that the microscopic sensors housed in each blade of grass couldn’t pick up their movements. The two figures moved across the lawn fast enough that the sensors only picked up the whisper of wind they left behind seconds after they had already passed. Without pausing, they leaned into a crouch but kept the same speed as they moved under the one-lit window.
In the large windows that circled around the ground floor of the mansion, micro-cameras embedded in the glass winked to life. Although they weren’t able to pick any movement, they continued to sweep the area for any signs of life. Invisible to mortal eyes, an infrared light covered the immediate area, once the micro-cameras were satisfied that nothing was there, they shut down for another two minutes until they performed another scan.
The lock was simple to jimmy and soon the figures were inside before the hinges had any time to squeak. Inside the front foyer the only light came from beneath heavy red oak doors to the left of the front door. On the other side of the doors, two people lay entwined on the black leather couch sitting in front of the crackling fire.
The man lying on top of the woman let out a groan of frustration and he removed his hands from under her shirt. The woman looked over to the previously unoccupied armchair with a look of brief rage. The other woman, who now occupied the chair flashed a smile to her oldest friends as her husband closed the heavy velvet curtains to the outside world.
“Remind me to never sit on that thing again,” the woman in the chair said with a look of slight disgust.
“Good to see you too,” the other said.
Then as if by synchronization, they stood to hug each other.
“It’s good to see you Kay,” one said, her silver hair hung loosely down her back in a sheet of captured moonlight.
“You weren’t too worried about us, now were you?” Kyrie ‘Kay’ Crosby asked in an amused tone.
“Maybe a little bit,” Anastasia ‘Anna’ Johnson said.
“A little bit?” Brian Johnson asked, “You practically had an anxiety attack.”
“And you were just comforting her then?” Sidney ‘Sid’ Crosby joked.
“Possibly,” Brian said.
“Again, I’m never sitting there again,” Kay inclined her multi-hued brown hair to the couch.
After they laughed and finished their greetings, the quartet went straight into the business they were meeting for. Although they were all vampires, their eyes each showed the wear and tear of the war they fought against Romanis and his movements to eradicate the world of vampires and other Magick’s like them. Upstairs, the four Johnson children slept silently, or so they thought.
“Brandon I can’t hear a thing so move,” Amelia Johnson said as she shoved her oldest sibling from his position beside the air vent.
Being the youngest of the Johnson’s, her hearing was the least developed, even at the age of 267 years old. Angela Johnson, Amelia’s twin sister, had her left ear practically pressed up against the white metal grate. Both of the girls’ hair was as strikingly silver as their mothers while the boy pair of twins was copies of their father. After being shunned away from the grate by his sister, Brandon returned to his post at the window alongside his brother.
“Do you think Sean and them are alright?” Brendon asked.
“Of course, they’re Crosby’s’. Why wouldn’t they be?” Brandon inquired.
“Shh! Boys! Something’s goin’ on,” Angela shushed.
On the floor below them, the Johnson children could hear their mother’s Transylvanian voice cry out in surprise.
“Pregnant?! But they’ve only been together a few decades,” Anna said.
“That’s what I said,” Sid said, by the sound of it, he wasn’t exactly the happiest man on earth about the news.
“In this day and age, its like that one story we used to always read as kids,” Anna said.
“Yeah, uh… Harry Potter. I know what you mean,” Kay said her voice sounding distant.
“So where is everybody?” Brian asked.
“There’s an old office building we’re hunkering down in for the time being,” Kay replied.
“You should move here,” Anna suggested, “It’s dangerous out there with Elly being… you know.”
“Holy shit,” Amelia whispered.
They listened for more but their father’s English tone gave nothing more away. The hours passed but the only useful pieces of information were about their next destination and news of Angus and Faylene Young’s arrival due in a week. But before the conversation went on any further, dawn approached and the Johnson children knew they were due for their lessons shortly.
Fifty miles away, an old building stood unnoticed on what used to be the corner of a busy city by the name of Detroit, Michigan. The Crosby family sat around a single tiny flame, the only source of heat they had. It didn’t really bother them, the cold, but it was comfortable to be around. The two girls of the Crosby family had been long since married, leaving Sean as the only bachelor.
“Well they’re taking their time,” Jacob Michael Ridgley commented when the hours turned later and later.
“There’s a lot of business they have to take care of,” Sean replied in a hostile voice.
Kiriel narrowed her eyes at her older brother. On a secure TeleLine, she had a talk with her siblings.
‘Look, I know how much you hate us right now but-,’ she started.
‘Aw, c’mon Elly. We don’t hate you,’ Kara Jane, the youngest of the Crosby’s retorted.
‘Well you coulda fooled me,’ Kiriel quipped.
‘You know our reason,’ Sean asserted, ‘You’ve only been married how long?’
‘Long enough. Look. We don’t have to stay here and take this you know. If this keeps up, we’re gone,’ Elly snapped.
“Um, guys, I hate to interrupt, but I think our parents are back,” Jacobs Cockney voice cut through their TeleLine like a knife.
“We’re not done,” Sean vowed.
“Yes. We. Are,” Elly hissed.
“That’s enough kids,” Sidney chided in a stern voice.
“Pack up camp. We’re going to spend the rest of stay with Anna and Brian,” Kay said once the door separating them from the rest of the world was secure.
“Really? Is that a good idea?” Patrick Jane asked.
“It’s the best option we got right now with Elly’s situation,” Sid replied as he began to salvage usable items from the building.
Without thought, the rest of the family followed suit and in minutes, the camp they had set up was packed away and every salvageable item they could find was compacted into HyperCubes. Although they were immortal and immune to all of the human diseases that have developed over the centuries, they moved at a slower pace than usual to accommodate the extra package Kiriel was carrying.

Ch. 2
Marko Romanis sat at the helm of the latest ship to grace the ozone of Earth. Although the craft he now steered was simply a prototype and he was running a mere test run, Romanis felt the craft he was in should belong to him as soon as the interior was refurbished to his liking. Despite the protests from his lead scientists and engineers, Romanis insisted on making the maiden voyage in the magnificent vessel as soon as he laid his soulless black eyes on it.
The sleek exterior was perfectly polished so that whenever it flew, the reflective surface all but made the ship invisible. This helped not only to keep the citizens of Earth unawares of him spying on them, but it miraculously kept him off the radar. The weapons fired high concentrations of particle beams reminiscent of the movie Star Wars from the 1970’s. But unlike the movie, they were protected using PlastiGlass infused with titanium.
Romanis’ wife, Dalia Ibelhauptaite was currently making her way around the ship to see where they need to make aesthetic improvements. Her purple and scarlet dress could be seen whipping around corners and waltzing down the clean, white corridors. The pearls and other precious gems clanged on her wrists and around her neck as the golden heels on her feet clicked and clacked down the polished floors.
She too had the soulless black eyes like her husband. Her hair flowed around her in golden waves and the rest of her features were just as beautiful. But her demeanor was anything but that of beauty. If she weren’t married to the most powerful being in the world, she would most likely be the head of a brothel in France. The only thing keeping her out of the slums of France was her financial ability with the Presidents funds and budgets.
“Marko!” her screeching Russian voice called out when she entered the cockpit.
“Yes, oh love of my life?” Romanis asked.
“I think we need to make a new budget for the renovation of the Dalia III,” she said in a sweet voice to her husband.
“You’re the one in charge of my money,” he said steering the craft into the holding bay of his headquarters on the moon.
“I am not. I am merely your financial advisor, my love,” she said nonchalantly.
“But of course you are. Ever since I married you, you’ve taken over my money like nothing I’ve ever seen before. You determine how much to spend on the new renovations, you determine the budget for the food supply of each country, you even determine how lavish of a front lawn we should have,” Romanis exploded.
Suddenly, his black eyes were alive with a fire rarely seen in the President. The air in the cockpit grew hot and stuffy with his anger and the crew began gasping for air. A sweat brimmed on Romanis’ brow and his teeth seemed to sharpen as he bared them at his wife. Dalia took a step back, her hands up in surrender.
“It is alright Marko. Calm down. Let the men breathe, I beg of you,” she pleaded calmly.
The air cooled and the air began to fill the lungs of the crewmembers once more. But Romanis kept the same look of rage on his face as everyone else emptied the ship to complete an inspection. After a few minutes more, Romanis’ features softened, all except the fire burning in his eyes.
“If you weren’t so good with my money woman, I would have you dead by now,” he whispered to her as he passed, “Think about that.”
Once he left the holding bay of his Moon based headquarters, Romanis walked the long trek to his private quarters. Along the way, he enjoyed the sights of his virtual empire on Earth’s largest satellite. The empire Romanis built was a grand one and it didn’t include simply the Moon. 200 years ago, Marko Romanis literally took over the world, a dream only thought possible in science fiction and comic books.
Once the door to his private sweet was locked, Romanis shed the regal façade he was forced to play as long as he interacted with the lower life forms of Earth. Although Romanis was a being of another world, he didn’t look any different from the humans that walked among him, which is why he was able to take their world so easily. But his time on Earth didn’t begin when he took Presidency; it began many, many years into the past, before the U.E.S.C. had even begun to form.
The year was 2012, the world was afraid that the Rapture or Armageddon was going to take place and their lives would all end. By the time December 12th had come around, nearly half the world’s population had sold all of their material possessions and eaten what they thought would be their last meal. But the day came… and went. The Vatican was in an upheaval, all known scripture was put into question and with most of the humans without food or shelter, and everything was chaos.
In a way, the Apocalypse had come, but it was nothing that the scripts and translations had predicted. For a long time, everything religious-wise shut down. Then, out of the blue, an anonymous Russian man rose from no where and instilled faith and hope into the religions of Earth. Single handedly, he united the faiths under one; universal faith, then he simply disappeared.
Centuries later, unbeknownst to the citizens of Earth, then still divided in their respective native countries and islands, Romanis returned. His return before the Great War was no coincidence; it was planned by Romanis and his father. The Great War paved the way for the U.E.S.C. to form while Romanis rose through the ranks of the Russian Military in the French Battles. By the end of the Great War, Romanis had fought in seven different battles, risen through ten different rankings and received ten different awards for his service.
Then the election came. After the first six Presidencies went smoothly, Romanis decided to run for the seventh election. Although it seemed he had many good things to offer Earth, once he was sworn in, it became apparent these things were never meant to be. Instead, the Declaration of Unity, the document that officially unified the many countries that made up Earth, disappeared, suddenly, Magicks were being hunted and put in camps. Things only went from bad to worse from there. When the next election was scheduled to be, Romanis dubbed it to never happen, that with the Declaration gone, he didn’t have to give up his seat.
“I see the new ship is in tip top shape, son,” a young voice said from behind him.
The heavy armchair sitting in front of the roaring fire suddenly was facing Romanis’ direction. And in it… a small girl.
“Yes, father. It sailed as planned,” Romanis bowed his head in respect to his father.
Many years ago, when the Resistance first made its appearance, Satan himself rose from Hell to aid his son. But somehow his magick got mixed up and he came in the form of a small, human girl. Although the form was bothersome to the King of Hell, it suited his purpose. Now Satan posed as Romanis’ daughter, and future heir to his empire.
“Good, then we can move on with our next plan,” Satan leapt out of the chair and landed on the Oriental rug with a grunt.
“And what would that plan be, father?” Romanis asked, knowing perfectly well what he was going to say.
“The complete and utter destruction of the Resistance. But first… we must destroy the remaining Magicks that foul the Earth with their ways,” Satan snarled.
“Of course father,” Romanis replied.
“First we have to find the remaining pockets of Magicks hiding out in the mountains and ghost town,” Satan removed the lid from the tray on a silver platter and picked up a random piece of food.
“I think I know exactly where to begin,” Romanis said as his father popped a piece of centaur meat into his mouth.

okay heres the story
me and TGF decided to write plays
so anywho, heres scene one laughcry

Part 1: Bon
Act 1: Down Payment Blues
Scene 1: A Whole Lotta Rosie

Morning. Sunlight pours through a dirty window. Our protagonist lays amidst a heap of grimy sheets in an even grimier room. The pain in his head blinds him as soon as he decides to open his eyes to the morning light. Falling back on the sticky pillow, he tries to remember last night.
* * *
Ben: Now look here, we played a damn good show. We brought in probably more customers than you’ll see in the rest of your miserable life. If you can’t oblige and lend a few hungry souls some food, I don’t think we’ll be playing here again.
Bartender: Now you look here. I paid you all the amount I felt fit. If you don’t feel you deserve that, give me back my money and get the hell out of my bar. Plus, I’ve seen more people in church on a weekday than in that audience tonight. And your performance was mediocre at the best. That boy there is the only reason anyone even stayed. He looked like a goddamn stripper up there!
Andrew: Hey **** you man! I ain’t a stripper!
Michael and Paul hold Andrew by the arms to prevent him from advancing
Bartender: Alright that’s enough get out of here now!
The boys leave in a haste and start climbing into their van when a group of girls approach them.
Girl 1: Hey boys, we heard you arguing for some food.
Girl 2: We’d be willing to feed you in exchange for something.
Andrew: We don’t have much money.
Chris: No you dolt. Sex.
Andrew: Ooooooohhhhh.
A rather large member of the group walks over to Ben.
Girl 3: Don’t worry, we’ll make it worth your while.
A look of nausea crosses Ben’s face.
The band returns to the girls apartment for a good meal and a round of drinks.
At one point, the large girl drags Ben to the bedroom for the night.
* * *
Girl 3: Good morning handsome.
Ben shouts, grabs his clothes and runs from the apartment into the streets of New York.

Prologue
Captain Michael Richardson strode through the doors of the mess hall with a look of obvious annoyance etched into his dark features. After a cursory glance around the room, he strode through the doors once more into the hall leading to the sick bay. The three decks of the USS. Grey Fox held 400 crew members but the Captain had no problem with finding anybody wherever they chose to hide, especially the only Vampire on the submarine.

“Has anyone seen Lieutenant Johnson?” Capt. Richardson called out; the rage in his voice caused the Doctor dressing a wound on a Petty Officer to jump suddenly.

“N-no sir, she didn’t report for her morning meds either,” the Doctor reported.

With a curse, the Captain stormed down the hall towards the steps heading to the lower deck, and the living quarters. One look at the Captain and the various crew members that were mingling in the hallway jumped into a salute. When Capt. Richardson reached the door leading to Lt. Amelia Johnson’s private quarters. Usually, the door had a strip of tape on the door, but now there was none and when he tried the knob, he found the door to be securely locked as always. Richardson pulled his master key from his belt and began to unlock the door.

That’s then a blood curdling scream hit his ears. Once the door was open, he found Lieutenant Amelia Johnson strung up from the ceiling by her hands with blood around her mouth. On the floor laid Lieutenant Commander Eric Dentrant….

Ch. 1
Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo took a long, deep breath as he stepped from the elevator into the spacious headquarters of NCIS. The scent of hot coffee and hard work always perked him up in the morning, and on this particular morning, he needed it. He rounded the desks leading to his own and spotted the rest of the team gathered around the plasma screen set up between the team leaders, Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs, desk and the desk of Special Agent Ziva David. After setting his pack down, he rushed over and stood behind Special Agent Timothy McGee. On the screen was a photo of a woman with long white blonde hair tied tightly behind her head in the usual Navy style.

“Who’s the babe?” DiNozzo asked after David whatever she was saying.

“Lieutenant Amelia Teresa Johnson. She was found this morning tied to the ceiling of her private quarters with blood all over her mouth,” Gibbs said from behind DiNozzo.

“Foreplay gone wrong?” DiNozzo asked a little too enthusiastically.

“No, she’s a Vampire,” Gibbs replied.

Instantly DiNozzo’s enthusiasm drained away, “Too bad boss,” he said.

“What’s wrong with Vampires?” McGee asked.

“They creep me out. Their eyes, their powers, their,” DiNozzo swallowed, “diet.”

“Well you need to get over that fear DiNozzo, she’s in interrogation right now,” Gibbs said.

* * *
Lt. Johnson sat tied to a metal chair in a prison uniform; the tight handcuffs cut lines in her wrists.

‘Great, woke up tied, now I’m tied up in NCIS,’ she thought before cringing in pain at the loud thoughts of the former Marine heading her case, ‘Even better. A loud one.’

Agent Gibbs walked through the door with a strict poker face on and his thoughts turned up to 11. Without a word, Gibbs pulled up a chair and laid the photos from the crime scene before her. The sight of them sent cold shivers down her spine and a hot flame erupted in her throat. The blood. It stared at her, forcing her to recall the scent, the feel, the taste. Against her will, Johnson's hands struggled against the metal handcuffs.

“Lieutenant Amelia Teresa Johnson,” he said in a soft voice, “Daughter to the famous Brian and Anastasia Johnson. Graduated from Oxford University in 1998 and quickly rose through the ranks once joining the Navy in 2002. The only Vampire aboard the USS Grey Fox as part of an experiment to test the compatibility of Magicks within the government.”

Gibbs paused to let his words hang in the air like an accusation.

“Now how did you end up chained to the ceiling in you private quarters covered in the blood of a commanding officer?” he probed.

For a long time she stayed quiet as she attempted to suppress the nausea that made her system swim. On the other side of the two-way mirror she could hear the conversation going on between the three Agents working for Gibbs. She focused on this to aid her regaining control.

“So… why do Vampires sneak you out?” David asked.

“The term is ‘creep you out’ Ziva and I already told you why,” DiNozzo said quietly as they watched their boss interrogate Johnson.

“No you only told us the characteristics that creep you out, not the real reason,” McGee said.
“When I was little I saw the original Dracula movie, never liked them since,” he replied.

“That was fiction, she’s a real Vampire,” David pointed out.

“All the more reason to fear her,” DiNozzo said.

Fighting a smile, Lt. Johnson brought herself back to her current predicament and looked Agent Gibbs straight in the eye when she answered.

“I don’t remember much from last night Agent Gibbs, only that someone took me from my rounds after my evening practice and I woke up this morning covered in a human’s blood,” she said.

“Not just a human’s blood, Lieutenant, but Lieutenant Commander Eric Dentrant’s blood,” he said pointing to the pictures.

Johnson fought the urge to look at the horror before her.

“Possibly,” she said, “you haven’t gotten your lab results back from downstairs.”

“And how do you know that?” Gibbs leaned forwards, the confusion sent his thoughts up another notch.

“You forget what I am. And please, tone it down a bit,” she pleaded.

Gibbs snatched up the photos and stormed from the room.

Ch. 2
“She can read minds?” McGee asked when they saw Gibbs leave the interrogation room.

“Looks like it Probie,” DiNozzo said as they left the room and followed Gibbs down the hall.

“What do we do?” David asked.

“Get the test results from Abby before Lt. Johnson hears,” Gibbs said, “McGee, go keep our guest company while we sort this all out.”

“B-boss?” McGee stopped in his tracks.

“You heard me go!” Gibbs shouted.

McGee ran down the hall back to the interrogation room and stopped at the door. The thought of being in the same room as a Vampire didn’t scare him like DiNozzo, but it still unsettled him. With a quick glance at his reflection in the shined steel door, he fixed his tie and opened the door.

“Finally. A quiet one,” he heard her whisper in gratitude.

“I am Special Agent Timothy McGee,” he said as he sat in Gibbs’ vacant chair.

“Lieutenant Amelia Johnson. I’d shake your hand Agent McGee but as you know, I’m a bit incapacitated,” she said.

“Please, call me Tim,” he said with a small smile.

“You’re afraid of me aren’t you?” she asked suddenly.

“What? No. Of course I’m not,” McGee stammered.

“It’s the teeth,” she shook her head, “People hate them.”

“They’re fine, really,” McGee insisted.

Johnson flashed a full toothed smile suddenly and the young Agent shot back in his chair, swallowing his words. Lt. Johnson let out a low chuckle as McGee composed himself once more. For a while they sat in silence, Johnson mainly listening to Agent McGee’s thoughts. They were in turmoil, caught between the possibility of her being innocent and the overwhelming evidence that pointed to her being guilty. Then a thought struck her broadside like a bull.

‘He wants me to be innocent,’ she realized.

Just as McGee opened his mouth to speak the thought aloud, Agent Gibbs came through the door and took the seat next to McGee. From the folder he carried Gibbs pulled the results of the testing done on Lt. Johnson’s clothes and the autopsy report from the Autopsy Technician Dr. Mallard. For a long time, they sat in silence as Johnson read over the reports.

“And I’m allowed to read these because…?” she let the question hang there in the air, waiting to be plucked down and answered.

“You’ve been cleared of all charges. The blood we found on you turned out to be from a pig, and the holes in Lieutenant Commander Eric Dentrant neck were from a ballpoint pen,” Gibbs explained in a low voice.

“Still doesn’t answer-,” she began.

“And you’ve been assigned by Captain Richardson to aid us in the case because it seems there’s another Vampire out there,” Gibbs interrupted.

This news surprised Lt. Johnson somewhat. Back in her quarters, she knew someone else of her kind had been there, but whatever they used to knock her out also muffled her senses. Then everything clicked.

‘NCIS has no clue about Magicks,’ she thought.

A small smile flashed around her mouth before she spoke; it happened so fast that McGee wasn’t sure it had happened at all and he wondered if Gibbs saw anything.

“I’ll help you,” she said matter-of-factly.

“The catch?” Gibbs asked as if he were willing to meet any need.

“No catch,” she leaned forward on her forearms and looked both Agents in the eye, “I wasn’t raised that way. This Vampire goes against the Code-.”

“Vampires have a Code?” she heard DiNozzo say in the other room.

“And he or she needs to be brought in,” she said simply, “Otherwise they’ll extend their hunting ground out from just the Navy, maybe as far as Innocents.”

“So this is just a Vampire setting up hunting grounds?” McGee asked in a confused voice.

“No,” she confirmed, “This is all a sick little game to him or her. And the first kill last night was only the pregame. It’s gonna get much worse after this.”

Ch. 3
The next morning Lieutenant Amelia Johnson walked into NCIS in full uniform, per request by her Captain, and rounded the desks to find the team all working at their desks except for Agent DiNozzo who was scarfing down his breakfast. A smile played with Johnson as she saw the faces he made when he tried to swallow a particularly large mouthful. Agent Gibbs rose from his chair to greet Johnson and as he passed DiNozzo’s desk, he gave the young agent a smack on the back of his head.

“Lieutenant Johnson,” Gibbs offered his hand.

“Special Agent Gibbs,” she took his hand and gave it a firm shake.

Gibbs felt his fingers turn to ice in her grasp but he fought the urge to shove it into his pocket to reheat the skin and bones. Johnson heard the pain thunder in his head but noticed how his tone of voice remained calm as he re-introduced the rest of his team.

‘Must be from being a Marine Sniper,’ she concluded to herself.

“Lieutenant, this is Special Agent Ziva David, Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, and Special Agent Timothy McGee,” Gibbs explained.

Johnson gave a salute to Agent David, a dark haired Israeli woman, Agent DiNozzo, the handsome agent afraid of Vampires, and Agent McGee, the tall, dark-blond haired man who sat with her yesterday. When she turned to McGee she nearly stopped half-salute. In the florescent lights of the interrogation room after coming out of a stupor of sedatives, it was tough to make out clear details; but under the lights of the main NCIS office, she could make out what the blinding, sterile lights didn’t. But the thing that caught her up was his eyes.

“Don’t be so uptight Lieutenant, you don’t have to stay in uniform here,” Gibbs said.

“Wish I could say that statement was true, but the Captain,” she paused a moment to summarize the words, “let’s just say it’s better to follow orders to the last letter.”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw DiNozzo give a knowing smile.

“Right then, McGee!” Gibbs shouted, “Take the Lieutenant down to see the bodies and introduce her to Ducky and Abby.”

“Ducky?” Johnson asked in a faux confused voice when they reached the elevator; ‘Anything to be able to talk with him,’ she thought.

“Dr. Mallard. Since the word mallard is a synonym for duck, we started calling him Ducky,” he explained before clamping his mouth shut.

‘Hmmm,’ she examined from the reflection in the polished steel doors and walls, ‘Full lips, but not overgrown like Uncle Sidney’s. Still cute though.’

The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened to reveal a sterile looking hallway; the nearest door had the word ‘Autopsy’ printed on it to confirm their location. In haste, the two passengers stepped for the exit at the same time and ended up bumping shoulders. Even through his thick coat, McGee could feel the cold of her skin, but it wasn’t the kind of cold you feel from a winter’s breeze. To him it felt like peppermint was splashed on his arm and the fresh feeling of it radiated throughout not only his arm but the rest of his body.

“Uh,” McGee said nervously, “Ladies first,” he took a step back to offer the full exit to her.

Johnson smiled her full toothed smile but this time, instead of recoiling at the sight of the extended, and rather sharp, fangs, he smiled back. As she stepped from the elevator, Johnson removed her hat and pulled the pin from her hair to let the waves of silver flow around her like an ethereal halo that seemed to shine its own light along the walls of the basement.

“Agent McGee? Are you coming?” her voice cut through his thoughts like a hot knife and he saw her standing in front of the door to autopsy.

“Y-yes. I’m coming,” he hurried out of the elevator to join the Navy Lieutenant, “And you don’t have to call me ‘Agent McGee’, you know.”

Johnson turned and gave him a mischievous smile, “I know.”

Ch. 4
“Aah! Timothy! So good to see you!”The voice of the Scottish born doctor said when they walked through the door, “and who is this Femme Fatal?”

Ducky walked from his position by the nearest body and offered a hand to Johnson.

“Ducky, this is Lieutenant Amelia Johnson from the USS Grey Fox,” McGee explained as the doctor shook her hand.

“It’s very nice to meet you Dr. Mallard,” she smiled.

“Aah! A Vampire! You must be the one who is to take a closer look at the Lieutenant Colonel,” Ducky released her hand and strode back over to the dead body Johnson had woken up with.

Flashes of what happened the night before erupted before her eyes as she stared at the body. The dark brown eyes that were usually staring everybody down on the sub, including the Captain, now stared blankly at the ceiling with a cold, grey haze over them. She remembered the Lieutenant Colonel barging into her quarters and shouting in a drunken rage. The last thing she remembered was him forcing himself upon her before things went black. Lt. Johnson’s whole frame shook and Agent McGee had to out an arm around her to keep her from falling to the linoleum.

“Amelia!” McGee cried out as she collapsed in his arms; slowly, he brought her to the floor, “Amelia, are you okay?”

She immediately snapped out of it when she heard her name being called. It wasn’t her last name or her Naval ranking McGee called out, but her first name. The sound of it sent shivers of pleasure down her spine that the Agent interpreted as fear or shock.

“Come on; let’s get you to Abby’s. She has a cot you can lay down on,” McGee said as he gathered up her hat and half carried her from the room.

In Abigail Sciuto’s lab, McGee found Abby working in front her table with all the chemicals and instruments she needed to test for DNA and other foreign matter. Abby looked at McGee with narrowed eyes as she saw how he held Johnson up. Without a word he set Johnson down on the cot half hidden behind a desk piled high with papers and files.

“I’m okay Tim, really,” Johnson said his name for the first time out loud and she liked how it felt on her tongue.

“You still look a bit pale,” he said in a worried tone.

“I’m always pale, Timmy,” she chuckled.

“Are you gonna introduce us?” Abby said, her voice seethed with jealousy which McGee either didn’t notice or chose to ignore.

“Oh yeah. Um, Abby this is Lieutenant Amelia Johnson. Amelia, this is Abigail Sciuto,” McGee said.

“Nice to meet you,” Lt. Johnson held out her hand.

“Yeah, you too,” she said curtly but didn’t shake the offered hand.

Johnson let her hand fall to her lap, “Well that’s one more person to hate me.”

“Abby doesn’t hate you, she’s just… uh,” but he couldn’t find the word.

“Exactly Timmy,” she said as she stood up from the stiff cot.

“You should sit back down,” he said as he tried to push her back down.

“I’m fine, Tim, really,” she insisted once more.

“No, you’re not,” he pushed harder on her shoulders and succeeded in his mission, “you passed out in autopsy over a body.”

“There’s a good reason for that-,” Johnson began.

“McGee, come here!” Abby shouted from the other room, the annoyance in her voice now affected the young Agent.

“You’d better go see what she wants,” Johnson smiled.

McGee couldn’t help but smile back at her as he left the room.

“Yes, Abby?” he asked when the door slid open.

“I don’t like her being down here,” she hissed.

“Why?” he asked in an offended tone.

“I don’t trust her,” Abby said with deliberation.

“What for?” he inquired.

Abby leaned around McGee and took a peak at the Lieutenant who was now lying back down on the cot and staring up at the ceiling. When she felt eyes on her, Johnson turned her head and gave a little wave to the Lab Technician. Abby narrowed her eyes once more and turned back to McGee.

“She’s just plain not welcome here,” she said.

“Then I’ll be off then?” Johnson suddenly appeared at the door leading to the hallway.

“But you still have to look over the evidence,” McGee protested.

“Well I can’t really do that if I’m unwelcome. The Code,” she said before heading back down the hall towards the elevator.

Without a goodbye to Abby, McGee hurried after her. When he caught up to her as she waited for the elevator, he saw that her head was bowed. A curtain of silver blocked his view of her features, but he had a suspicious feeling that tears ran from her emerald eyes. McGee hesitantly lifted his hand to comfort her but stopped when the doors opened. Johnson entered the elevator and leaned against the back wall, her head still bent forward. McGee slowly walked in after her and pressed the button to send them upwards.

“You have to ignore Abby,” he began, “Sometimes she’s a little sensitive about people being in her lab.”

“I’m used to it,” she replied quietly, she lifted her head with a sniffle and smiled up at him, “So. Is there any place good to eat around here?”

McGee gulped involuntarily.

“Don’t worry, my diet isn’t strictly blood,” she laughed at the expression on him face.

“But I thought Vampires only drank blood,” he said a little confused.

“Some do. But not my family,” she explained, “My aunt was turned and she always says that if she’d ever had to give up some of the human food out there, she’d turn rogue or worse.”
“There’s worse than a rogue Vampire?” he sounded a little worried now.

“Oh yes,” she said, “A hungry insane one,” she chuckled.

Before McGee could inquire any further, the doors opened to chaos on the main floor. The team was coming towards them with their gear on their shoulders; Gibbs was sporting a not-so-happy-camper look as well.

“McGee, grab your gear and meet us in the parking garage. There’s been another killing,” Gibbs ordered, “And Lieutenant, I suggest you change.”

“Already done sir,” she replied before they even entered the elevator.

McGee ran to grab his pack and join the rest in the elevator. The ride down was somewhat short but for DiNozzo, being in the same confined space as a Vampire made the trip all the more drawn out. Once the doors opened to the garage, DiNozzo rushed out passed the rest of the team and ran to a car.

“DiNozzo and David, lead us in the SUV, McGee and Lieutenant Johnson, take the truck and I’ll follow in the Sedan with Ducky,” Gibbs ordered.

Ch. 5
The ride to the next body was a quiet one for the most part, and it unsettled Agent McGee somewhat because he knew she could read what he was thinking. So he was relieved when Johnson struck up a conversation out of the blue.

“You never answered my question,” she stated.

“What question?” he asked.

“Do you know if there’s any place that’s goo to eat at?” she re-questioned.

“Well, it depends on what you’re looking for,” he said.

“Chinese,” she offered.

“Chung’s Palace,” he answered, “They make a mean General Tso’s.”

“I prefer Pork Fried Rice with some soy sauce, Dumplings with more soy sauce, and ribs no soy sauce,” she said.

“Sounds healthy,” he laughed.

Johnson laughed back, “Yeah, maybe not for a human but I don’t really have to worry about that,” she explained.

“In that case I think I’ll stick with the General Tso’s,” McGee said.

“How about we go to this Chung’s Palace and we do a little taste test?” she offered.

“I’ll have you take you up on that,” McGee smiled, “So why’d you react so violently to seeing the Lieutenant Colonel’s body?”

Johnson’s moody turned grim and her smile faded, “I think he raped me, or at least tried to.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he questioned.

“You didn’t give me a chance,” she replied sullenly.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, “I’ll file a report as soon as we get back to NCIS.”

“Thanks,” she smiled with gratitude.

At the scene, the set up looked disturbingly similar to how they found Lt. Johnson, except there wasn’t a Vampire hanging from the ceiling of the old Army bunker. On a bed lay a body that was grotesquely disfigured that they hoped happened post mortem and by the looks of it, he had no blood left in his system. Ducky was already beside the bed with his assistant James Palmer and holding a probe in the victims liver.

“Looks like the same deal as the Lieutenant Colonel. Drained of blood, two holes poked into his neck with what looks like a ballpoint pen,” Duck said, “You poor, poor man. If only your killer would leave more for me.”

“Actually Dr. Mallard, the holes were made from a set of fangs first then widened using a pen. It virtually destroys the original imprint, but I think with some tinkering, you can make an ID,” Johnson reported, “I have full access to the Vampire Legion database of ever Vampire in the U.S., Europe, Canada and Asia.”

“And you have access to this how?” McGee asked sounding a little impressed.

“Easy. My grandmothers the founder and President,” she smiled her full toothed smile that McGee was beginning to like.

“Okay, contact your grandmother and Ducky, make an impression of that bite mark,” Gibbs ordered.

“I’ll need help with the tinkering. Timmy?” Johnson offered.

“Of course,” McGee smiled.

“Probie!” DiNozzo beckoned.

“Be right back,” he said.

“What the hell are you doing?” DiNozzo asked through gritted teeth.

“Helping with the case,” it sounded more like a question than an answer.

“No. You’re getting chummy with the Vampire over there,” he hissed.

“So?” McGee asked.

“So? You were ready to get into her pants,” DiNozzo whispered.

“Was not!” he said loudly.

“You know I can hear you Agent DiNozzo,” Johnson shouted from the other side of the room.

DiNozzo stared the Vampire Lieutenant with daggers but the Lieutenant simply smiled back defiantly.

“You know, Vampires aren’t all that bad,” McGee clapped DiNozzo on the shoulder and walked back over to Johnson.

Ch. 6
“I don’t think this is really necessary Amelia,” McGee said, or more accurately pleaded, to Lt. Johnson.

“Please Timmy? How are we gonna be able to pull the original fang imprint if we don’t have access to a computer like Abby’s?” she said with round, green eyes.

After a minute of staring into those green, green eyes, he gave a slight nod and entered the threshold of Abby’s lab. She was staring at one of her computer screens with a look of extreme distaste on her pale features when he stood beside her. Outside, Johnson watched with eagle eyes as him and Abby negotiated.

“A peace offering?” Johnson heard Abby ask in a skeptical voice.

“Yeah. She says since you banished her from your lab that she has to make a peace offering before being able to enter. And we really need to use one of your computers to help us identify the killer,” McGee explained.

Abby stared back and forth between McGee and the waiting Lieutenant with a determined look on her face. Then after two minutes of an awkward silence, Abby popped the CD McGee had given her. The sound that came from the loud speakers placed around her lab blew not only Abby away, but McGee away as well. Immediately, even before the first song was half-way over, Abby clomped over to the hallway in her platform boots. When the door slid open, she found Lt. Johnson leaning against the wall with her face turned up toward the ceiling and a look of contentment on her eternal features.

For a long minute Abby looked the Lieutenant up and down, “You can come into my lab.”

McGee let out a sigh of relief, “Thanks Abs.”

“Yeah well, you have a killer to catch,” she murmured.

With a heavy sigh, Johnson walked through the door and pulled the mold Ducky made from the bite marks on the victims. Once they uploaded pictures of the bite marks and the molds, they began to tweak the pictures to get them back to their original size and shape.

“No wait… here… try moving this around,” McGee said trying to point to an area around the right hole.

“Come over and do it yourself, I’m working on the left hole,” Johnson said with a twinge of irritation at the sluggish, by her standards anyways, system.

Hesitantly, McGee walked over behind Johnson and wrapped his arms around he shoulders in order to reach the keyboard. Abby’s eyes widened and she gave a great huff before turning back to identifying the unknown substances found under both victims nails. Once or twice McGee’s fingers would stumble into Johnson’s but her fingers continued to move gracefully across the board. As the image danced and morphed before their eyes, McGee couldn’t help but get a whiff of her hair that was right under his nose.

‘Minty,’ he realized as he took a bigger whiff of the wonderful scent until it filled his senses.

“Pay attention Timmy, we’ve almost got it,” Johnson whispered to him quiet enough so that Abby didn’t notice it.

‘Right, focus,’ McGee scolded himself.

A few seconds later, a 3-D copy of the regenerated representation of the Vampires bite stared them down from the computer screen. Instead of shrugging McGee’s arms off her shoulders, Lt. Johnson took a hold of his hands and pulled him tighter to her like a scarf. McGee couldn’t help but feel a bit awkward being in the same room as the woman he used to obsess over and a Vampire who was developing feelings for him at the same time that he was developing feelings for her.

‘No,’ he thought, ‘It’s something more.’

“Umm, do you think you can make an ID using that?” McGee asked in order to break the awkwardness.

“Oh, yes. That’s right,” Lieutenant Johnson reached into her pocket and pulled a flashdrive out that was attached to a Navy lanyard, “May I?”

“Have at it,” Abby said without looking at her Johnson could still taste the bitterness in her voice.

When Johnson let go of McGee’s hands, he took advantage of the momentary freedom to pull away and take a few steps back. But when he accomplished this, it felt as if a part of him had been ripped away, leaving a gaping black hole in his chest. The feeling made him long to wrap his arms around her once more. McGee restrained himself as best he could and watched the Lieutenant try and make a comparison from the bite marks in the Lieutenant Colonel’s neck.

“This is really weird,” Johnson muttered.

“What’s wrong?” McGee couldn’t help but move a bit closer when she said this.

“It’s this Vampire, his or her teeth are star shaped,” she explained.

“Star shaped?” he confirmed.

“Yeah, I don’t remember there being a species with star shaped eye teeth,” she said mostly to herself.

“Maybe he had them altered?” he offered.

“Possibly, but I can definitely make an ID as long as he’s been keeping his monthly check-ups,” she explained.

“Monthly check-ups? What like a doctor’s appointment,” McGee couldn’t help but picture the Lieutenant sitting on an exam room table in a flimsy hospital gown.

“Kinda,” she chuckled at his imagination, “It’s to keep the files on us all updated. We get checked out like a normal human for diseases and other ailments and we get tests done to monitor our diet as well as...,” she left the last part hanging off for him to finish.

“Molds of your teeth?” he asked.

“Yes,” she smiled, “Cause our teeth change all the time,” she turned around to show him her eye teeth which seemed somewhat different from yesterday in the interrogation room, “They grow, they shrink, they dull, they sharpen. So we need to monitor it all.
“And those tool marks don’t look too recent,” he stated.

“Exactly meine Liebe,” her smile grew wider.

A reddish hue ran through the Agents cheeks when she said this, Abby’s eyes narrowed even further, if it was even possible. Just then a beeping noise filled the room and cut through the remaining tension like butter as they turned to see who the match was. After entering a few key commands, McGee pulled up the file. The picture showed a dark-haired man with olive toned skin scowling at the camera with bloody red eyes.

“That can’t be right,” Johnson whispered.

“Why? Who is it?” Abby asked, suddenly interested in the panic on the intruders face.

Johnson’s began dancing faster than ever and both Abby and McGee feared she might wear down the keys. After a grunt of frustration, Lt. Johnson ejected the flashdrive after saving the search and stormed from the room. But something told McGee it wasn’t from frustration, but from shock.

“Thanks again Abs,” McGee said before running after her.

“Amelia! Wait up! Amelia!” he shouted as she walked.

“I know this was possible the best idea we’ve had the whole case Timmy, but the search has to be wrong,” she called.

As fast as she was, Lt. Johnson still couldn’t make the elevator come any faster.

“Who was that? Who was the match? And why is he so important?” McGee panted when he finally reached her.

“Because that’s the Vampire who turned my Aunts. They aren’t blood related to me or anything but what they both went through strengthened the bond they had with my mom and blood Aunt. It can’t be the same Vampire because… my Aunt Kay killed him years ago,” she said.

Ch. 7
“Ariella Marijgell,” Lt. Johnson said with disgust as she stared down the picture of their murderer, “Born during the fall of the Roman Empire to a Roman seamstress and a soldier. When the Roman Empire fell, and oh did it fall, he was given an offer he couldn’t refuse.”

“Like the Godfather?” DiNozzo asked before he could stop himself.

“Kind of,” Johnson couldn’t help but crack a smile, “The Gods and Goddess of Greece offered to turn him into the ultimate soldier, help him retake the Empire from the British.”

“Not just any God and Goddess, Am,” a voice said from behind Gibbs, “Ares, the God of savage war, bloodlust, and slaughter personified, son of Zeus and Hera. Alongside Aphrodite, Goddess of love and beauty, born from sea foam after Cronus- ahem- cut off Uranus’ family jewels.”

“Ouch,” DiNozzo winced, “And who might you be?”

“Kyrie Crosby. Goddess-Muse of music and writing. Reincarnated from the original Goddess-Muse of music and writing, Kalista, daughter Apollo, God of plague, light, healing, colonists, medicine, archery, poetry, prophecy, dance, reason, intellectualism, Shamans, and as the patron defender of herds and flocks and Eutepre, Muse of lyrical song,” she reported as if she had repeated the lines over many, many years.

“As well as my Aunt,” Lt. Johnson smiled.

“So, you know your Gods,” David said.

“I should, they’re my family,” Kyrie said with a small smile, “Long story,” she said when she received confused looks from everyone except Johnson.

“I called her here to help tell us more about our killer Vampire,” Gibbs said.

“He’s not just a killer, Agent Gibbs. He’s not even just a rogue,” Kyrie’s disgust colored her tone with an inky black feel; “He’s a monster of the truest form. He’s the reason my species turned against their creators and the reason for the fall of our culture. He led a revolt that caused half the army to abandon their stations, leaving the humans following the word of Christ to slaughter the people of Greece and enslave the rest of the army. Those who were enslaved didn’t survive,” she took a breath through her nose; “He abandoned the revolters, taking with him only a few he could truly manipulate to his will. Lasted for centuries until they found the camp that Amelia’s mother, Aunt Faylene, friend Emily Black as well as myself were staying and attacked us. Sora and InuYasha Shenron managed to kill the two droogs Marijgell had kept all these years. Unfortunately… it was too late for Emily and I,” she finished her story looking drained.

“So it’s safe to say we should shoot to kill?” Gibbs asked.

“That’s the problem,” Kyrie grabbed a knife from David’s desk and gouged her arm.

Or at least, that’s what it looked like she was, the motion cause the agents to each pull their weapon and a cell phone until they saw no blood gushing from her arm where she aimed the knife. Kyrie tossed the now bent and gnarled knife back onto David’s desk. After showing the arm minus the large wound that was supposed to be there, the stares turned from horror back to confusion.

“Sorry Agent David, I owe you a hunting knife,” she said, “My point is, it’s impossible to shoot to kill my species. When Ares created us, he worked his work a little too well,” she said in a grim voice.

Ch. 8
“McGee!” Gibbs beckoned, “I want you to keep an eye on Lieutenant Johnson.”

“What?” he said in a shocked voice.

“Keep her company,” he whispered, “She’s important to the case and I want you to make sure nothing happens.”

McGee stood before his superior’s desk in shock while Gibbs sipped his coffee and typed on his computer.

“Well… what are you waiting for?” Gibbs pointed towards the elevator where the Lieutenant stood waiting.

“You wouldn’t have had anything to do with that now would you?” McGee asked when he reached Lt. Johnson as she held the door for him.

“No,” she said, but the smile gave her away, “Okay a little bit. He was gonna assign DiNozzo to me, I just tweaked his reasoning a little bit to have him assign you.”

McGee raised an eyebrow to her while a smile played with his full bottom lip.

“This way, we can have our date,” she said, “It’ll do you some good, Special Agent McGee.”

“I guess so Lieutenant Johnson,” he smiled.

The trip to Chung’s Palace was short, so short they walked through the cool summer’s night air with their arms entwined. Very few cars passed them and even fewer people walked with them on the sidewalk. This left them free to talk and laugh, to forget the horror’s they were enduring in this case, the reason they had met. Once the small shop loomed in the distance, Johnson knew why McGee loved the place. Instead of any other fast food Chinese restaurant, this one actually smelt like the real deal. And it didn’t have a fast food window, so that was a huge plus. They both ordered their respective favorites and sat on stone benches to await their food.

“So,” she said when they plopped down onto the cold bench.

“So,” he repeated.

“How’d you come to want to be an NCIS agent?” the Lieutenant asked.

“Well,” McGee thought about the question for a while Johnson politely kept out of his head, “I graduated from MIT with a Masters Computer Forensics then I went on to get a BSc in Biomedical Engineering from Johns Hopkins University. When I did some research into both fields, I found that the Navy was a perfect place to go.”

“Particularly NCIS?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he was quiet for a moment while he formulated his question for her, “How did the daughter of two of the most famous singer sin the world en up in the Navy?”

“My Aunt Kay,” she said, “I’m a lot like her, although we aren’t blood related I guess the connection between my mom and her is that strong that it left an impression on me. She always had a with to join the Navy, but she never got to fulfill it when she got drafted by the NHL, forcing her career to veer off in that direction. Then she retired and by the time she was married, the desire hadn’t left, but….”

“An opportunity never arose,” he finished for her.

“Yeah. She ended up having three kids, all of which vary very much in personality but stuck to the fundamentals set into stone by Aunt Kay and Uncle Sid,” she continued, “When I was born, just about everyone was retired from whatever they were doing. For the time being at least,” she smiled her smile and a fire burned in McGee’s chest, “She taught me all I know, Aunt Kay. When she was in school, she learned to play the flute, after she was turned, she branched out. Trying to fill in the time and becoming somewhat of a celebrity in her hometown without knowing it. When it came down to my career choice at the end of high school, I chose the Navy.”

“For your aunt,” he confirmed.

“Exactly,” she said just as the waiter walked up to them with their food, “I also joined the band, as a time filler since I revoked sleep. Kay taught me to play the flute and I’ve been using those skills, taught to her by her high school band director, to play in the Naval band.”

McGee was about to ask about ‘revoking sleep’ when the young waiter from Chung’s Palace approached them with their food.

“What perfect timing, huh?” he commented.

“So then,” she began as she inspected her food to make sure it was the correct order, “NCIS or…?”

“How about my place?” McGee said before he could stop himself.

“Shall we?” she stood and offered McGee her hand.

For a few seconds he stared at the extended appendage as if contemplating the right thing to do. For some reason, from the first day they met they were somehow attracted to each other. When McGee had first seen her tied up in the interrogation room, groggy and weak looking, he found himself doubting the evidence displayed against her; but it wasn’t until he was in the same room as her for the first time that he truly wanted the evidence to be wrong. After realizing all of this, he took her hand and stood, smiling down at her.

“Here, I’ll carry that for you,” McGee offered.

“Quite the gentleman,” Johnson said as she handed him the bag twice as big as his own, “I think you’re the first I’ve seen since I left Britain.”

“It’s ‘cause I like you a lot, Am,” he said quietly.

Amelia stopped suddenly and McGee feared the worst; the last time he admitted liking a girl, which happened to be Abby, things got awkward and they ended up having to stay friends. But when he looked at her from his full height of six feet, he saw her smiling a smile even bigger than any he’d seen from her.

“I like you too, Timmy,” she said, her voice sounded like she’d jumped to the moons of Jupiter and back.

The biggest smile McGee felt himself breaking into formed on his face. After a few seconds, they began to walk again hand-in-hand.

“You might call it love,” he heard her say when they reached the safety of the parking garage.

Now it was McGee’s turn to stop. Once more he looked down at her, at the smile still playing with her lips, at the slight sparkle in her eyes of emerald; and once more, he found himself smiling again. He leaned forward, moving closer to her; but she stopped him short of reaching her lips.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea here, Timmy,” she pointed to the cameras surrounding them.

In order to cover up the attempted kiss, McGee acting like he was comforting her; playing along, Johnson pretended to shed tears into his chest. They walked to McGee’s car with McGee keeping his arm around her shoulders in “comfort”, but once they climbed in, Lt. Johnson finished the kiss.

Ch. 9
Anthony DiNozzo watched McGee and the Lieutenant walk down the street together. Although Gibbs hadn’t told him to follow the happy couple, DiNozzo felt it necessary to know what’s going on within his team. He took the special night vision binoculars he had in his pack out and watched them as they went inside Chung’s Palace and ordered a late dinner. A few minutes later they walked back outside and sat on a stone bench to await their order. Unfortunately, their backs were to them but an upside was their reflections shone in the display window for Chung’s so DiNozzo was able to see their expressions and catch a tiny bit of their conversation by reading their lips.

‘And what lips they are,’ DiNozzo found himself thinking about the Lieutenant, ‘No. Stop that. She’s a Vampire. The creature that’s haunted your nightmares for decades.’

After snapping a few pictures for no real reason at all, DiNozzo settled himself in the tree he had climbed in order to observe fro ma distance. When the waiter brought them their food and they walked back towards the NCIS parking garage, DiNozzo was able to see their conversation clearly. And the words their mouths formed shocked him so much he nearly fell from the tree he had climbed to get this ideal vantage point. When they passed below him he watched them unassisted and listened to them when they stopped.

“It’s ‘cause I like you a lot, Am,” he heard McGee say.

DiNozzo held back a laugh remembering the last time McGee admitted loving someone. But to his surprise, Lt. Johnson didn’t scoff McGee’s words and run off; instead she smiled at him with those teeth showing and seeming to glow in the city lights.

“I like you too, Timmy,” she said to the Probie followed by the comment that made him actually fall from the tree, “You might call it love.”

Lucky for DiNozzo, a sixteen-wheeler passed by just as the senior field agent fell back to Earth. When he recovered, he raised his head above the bushes in time to see McGee trying to kiss Lt. Johnson. But Johnson’s eyes flickered his way before McGeek’s geeky noggin blocked the view. McGee’s head stopped before it reached Johnson’s lips and he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Not in passion, but in comfort.

‘Either she snapped to her senses, or they’re pulling off a horrible rouse,’ DiNozzo thought, ‘Not for me though, for the cameras. Smart Probie.”
When they moved again, DiNozzo burst from the bushes onto the sidewalk and hurried after them. Ducking between cars and pillars, DiNozzo was able to follow them without being discovered. No. Johnson knew he was there, but if she gave him up, McGee wouldn’t agree to them going to his apartment.

‘Even smarter Leech,’ he thought.

To his delight, DiNozzo could have sworn he saw the Lieutenant give the slightest of flinches when the final word ran through his mind. Newly energized by this fraction of a reaction, he followed them to McGee’s Porsche Boxster where he saw the Probie do the unthinkable. He kissed Lt. Johnson.

Teeth gritted, DiNozzo retreated back into NCIS headquarters, stopping only to scan his eye on the retina scanner that opened the elevator into the top secret government building. Once back at the safety of his desk, DiNozzo read through the case file once more to clear his thoughts. Then a thought struck him.

Why did he dislike the Lieutenant so much? His excuse had been because of being traumatized as a child by Bela Lugosi. But how long could that excuse be used? Even saying it in his head made him seem more and more like the biggest jerk in the government. His eyes came to rest on one of the photos he had taken from the tree. It showed McGee and Lt. Johnson walking out from the restaurant, their fingers entwined, and smiles on both their faces.

Out of a whim, DiNozzo forwarded the picture of them to both McGee’s email and the Lieutenant’s. He then grabbed his things and headed home, being careful not to disturb Gibbs and to keep a lookout for anything suspicious as he always did when leaving work.

At the Gym
Kirsten ran through the pouring rain around the campus grounds on her third lap. It was all a part of her warm-up routine for her weekly workout at the in the on-campus gym. She had her black and gold hoodie with the hood concealing her face and hair from the rain along with her iPod blasting into her skull. But despite the tonal qualities of Justin Timberlake’s latest album, the tune that ran through her mind was the theme from Rocky as Rocky ran up the stairs in the climax of the workout scene.

Kirsten secretly planned on doing that someday to the steps leading to the student center, but she kept that on the down low.

Thanks to the weekly regimen she had been following since her senior year of high school, Kirsten was now lean and mean. Which only meant that marching band was a whole of a hell lot easier when you were able to run laps around campus in the freezing rain. With a smile on her face, she ran towards the gym and back to finish her workout before Desperate Housewives came on. There was a slight obstacle when she reached her destination….

Kayla.

The ever-going feud between the two girls had flared to a breaking point and Kirsten feared another battle like what went down two weeks ago when they tore up the apartment. Now she stood beside the locker that currently held Kirsten's belongings with a serious look about her eye.

“Can I help you?” Kirsten said when she reached the locker and began to shed her wet clothes.

“It’s your turn to help the inspectors with our apartment,” Kayla said.

“Okay,” Kirsten said in an understanding voice, “But I do believe that it is your turn.”

“And why is that?” Kayla inquired as she sat on the benches that lined the lockers.

“After I had to explain the situation of the butter on the ceiling above the stove full of all sorts of nasties,” Kirsten spoke in a muffled voice as she dried her hair with a white towel, “I deserve a loose a turn, do not pass go, and do not collect two hundred dollars. Actually, I think I’ll take the two hundred anyway.”

“No,” Kayla said.

“That must be your favorite word or something, huh?” Kirsten said.

“Fine, let’s settle this with…,” Kayla looked around the gym to decide what they could do.
Her eyes settled on the blow-up boxing rink that was left over from spirit week. The school was keeping it set up until they found space to store it in until next year.

“That,” she pointed to the rink over through the one sided mirror that lined one wall.

“Boxing?” Kirsten replied in a quizzical voice, “Alright, if I win, I don’t have to help the inspectors for the rest of the term.”

“And if you loose, you have to clean the entire apartment until it’s spotless,” Kayla said with narrowed eyes, “That means dishes, laundry, the bathroom, kitchen living room-.”

“Alright, alright shake on it before I change my mind,” Kirsten held out her hand to seal the deal.

Kayla took the offered hand and squeezed it with all her willpower, “Bring. It. On.”

They suited up in the oversized gear that came with the rink and began their battle, Kirsten for continuing her title as professional slacker, and Kayla for getting the professional slacker off her ass.

“Ready?” Coach Randy Newport, who was acting as ref, asked.

“Yeah,” Kirsten said in an unsure tone through the mouthpiece.

“Let’s get this over with,” Kayla’s muffled voice growled.

“Go!” Coach Newport shouted.

The gym erupted into a sea of cheers and jeers as the girls battled. At first, Kayla had Kirsten in a tight spot, but Kirsten bounced back and struck Kayla hard in the chin with an uppercut. As the fight continued, the clock ticked away and the time for inspection drew nearer.

Three hours later….

“And as you can see, the refrigerator is in order separating the meats from the rest of the food,” Kayla said in a pleasant tone as the inspectors wrote notes on their clipboards.

In the living room, Kirsten sat on the couch and enjoyed her shows.

Class
Psychology.

The only course required by the school for every student at least twice in their two to four years. It also happened to be the only course Kayla and Kirsten shared. You would think that the only downside to taking the class so early would be having to share it with your roommate with whom you have had a feud with for the past five years. But not for these girls, they were also required to sit next to each other. The professor was old school and believed in seating charts, but alphabetical order was too elementary school for the teacher, he went by drawing names from a hat.

Little did Dr. Zimmerman know, there would be ever-constant sparks flying between two of his students….

“Stop looking at my notes,” Kayla said fiercely.

“But I missed what he said,” Kirsten whispered as she strained to see the words Kayla now covered with her book.

“Girls, is everything in order here?” Dr. Zimmerman asked in his German accent from the end of the row.

“Yes.”

“No.”

Kayla planted her foot on Kirsten's and Kirsten let out a yelp of pain.

“I see,” the professor said,” why don’t you girls come to the front of the class?”

“What?” they asked in unison.

“Come on, don’t be afraid,” he said in a soothing voice.

Hesitantly, they moved through the row and made their way down the steps to the ‘center stage’.

“Now then, this is a perfect example of trust,” the professor began, “You may be familiar with the classic ‘trust exercise’ where you fall, either from a flat surface or from a raised height. Now… why is trust important to human nature?”

“Because it allows us to socialize,” Kayla said.

“Yes, very good,” he replied with a smile.

“Suck up,” Kirsten whispered from the corner of her mouth.
Kayla dug her elbow into Kirsten’s ribs in retaliation.

“So, to go along with trust, we are going to perform a small experiment, Kayla, you will fall, and Kirsten, you will catch her,” the professor sat on his desk as he waited for the girls to cooperate.

“You had better catch me,” Kayla murmured and pointed to Kirsten to emphasize her point.

With hesitation, Kayla turned around and fell back….

Kirsten caught her and let her drop to the floor.

“Ow,” Kayla said as she hit the floor.

“That wasn't trust,” Kayla said curtly when she recovered.

“Yeah it was,” Kirsten smiled, “it was half-trust. I trust you, but with limitations.”

“Ugh,” Kayla grunted.

“Now then, Kirsten, you will fall and Kayla will catch you,” Dr. Zimmerman said from his vantage point.

Without a second thought, Kirsten turned and fell into what she thought was Kayla’s arms, but instead, she found nothing but the cold floor to greet her.

“Hey! You didn’t catch me!” Kirsten shouted.

“Yeah I did, in my mind,” Kayla smiled widely, “Now that’s half-trust.”

Hanging Out
“Aaaahhh,” Kirsten breathed in the cool spring air as she and her old friends walked through the doors of their hometown theater, “I love the weekend, man.”

“Me too,” Kyrie Humphreys said, “It’s good to get away from the enemies Derek and Ronald make.”

“How’s your sister doin’?” Ashley Allen asked.

“She’s good, getting big,” Kirsten replied, “I swear when I last saw her, she was only up to my hip, but now, she can almost hit me in the face.”

The four girls, Kirsten, Kyrie, Ashley, and Megan Peacock all paid for their tickets for the newest Batman movie. Megan and Ashley were still juniors in high school, going to Washington High School, which is named for their hometown. Kyrie attended Waynesburg University along with three of her cousins. Kirsten was just plain happy to get away from Kayla and school and get to hang out with her fellow band geeks.

And then, she saw the last person she wanted to see the entire weekend. Granted, Kayla and Kirsten are both from the same city, if you could call it that, but neither roomie could predict seeing one another at the same place on the same night.

“Please tell me you aren’t seeing Batman,” Kirsten begged.

Kayla’s date held up two tickets for none other than the new Batman movie.

“God, now your gonna distract me with your… you!” Kirsten exclaimed.

Kayla took a step forward with her teeth bared and tried to punch her in the arm but Kirsten was too fast for her.

“Come on doods, the movie’s gonna start soon and we haven’t even got food yet,” Ashley said.

Once the snacks and drinks were purchased, quartette found seats in the topmost row of the theater. As the lights dimmed and the movies opening score began, Kirsten spotted Kayla and her boyfriend in the row right in front of them. During the first half of the movie, as the Batman and Gotham P.D. tried to figure out what the Riddler wanted, the girls in back actually paid attention. But then Kayla glanced back and found Kirsten.

Kayla stuck her tongue out and turned back to the large screen. With a grimace, Kirsten grabbed a handful of popcorn from Kyrie’s grip and started aiming for Kayla’s hair.

‘Good thing she’s a blonde otherwise this would be harder,’ she thought as she let the first round fly.

Kyrie let out a muffled laugh as she saw the number of popcorn pieces stuck in Kayla’s hair and nudged Ashley, who in turn laughed and nudged Megan. Kirsten continued her target practice until Kayla raised a hand to smooth her hair and felt the popcorn. Kirsten turned away quickly with the, ‘I didn’t do it,’ look. Kayla made a face and turned back to the screen.

Too soon the movie ended, but Kirsten didn’t really remember much of it and didn’t think anything of it as she was still firing popcorn at Kayla when the made their way down the lit steps and towards the exit. They lost each other in the crowd for a second and before Kirsten could find her again, Kayla took a shot and hit Kirsten in the arm with a mighty blow for such a thin woman.

“Argh!” Kirsten called out and tried to lash back.

In the lobby, she scanned the area for Kayla but found only her date beside the Ladies Room. An idea dawned on Kirsten like a light bulb in the darkness.

“I’ll be back doods, but get ready to run,” she said before running into the bathroom.

Kirsten took the empty drink in her hand and removed the lid, when she got through the door; she saw that Kayla was nowhere to be seen and so she grabbed some paper towels and dumped some ice into them.

‘Now I wait,’ she thought with glee.

She stood off to the farthest end of the stalls so she wouldn’t be seen when Kayla emerged from the stall. Finally, she opened the door and walked over to the row of seats. With the footing of a ninja, Kirsten sneaked up behind Kayla….

“AAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!” Kayla screamed when the ice went down her back.

Kirsten ran as fast as her Converses would carry her yelling, “Run! Run! Run!” to her waiting friends.

And so they ran off into the night laughing as Kayla emerged from the bathroom with a large wet spot down her back.

Ch. 10
The next morning McGee woke to the smell of breakfast being cooked and the sound of Rock ‘N Roll being blasted loudly but not loud enough to disturb the neighbors. After getting dressed in his pajamas, the agent walked through his apartment to find Lt. Johnson at his stove cooking bacon and eggs while singing along with one of her fathers albums. McGee crossed his arms and leaned against the wall separating the kitchen from the rest of the apartment and watched as she grooved to the song currently playing and moving the bacon frying in a pan all while dressed in only the shirt he had worn last night.

Johnson pulled a plate from the strainer beside the sink that was full of freshly cleaned dishes, McGee made a mental to clean up more, and set the freshly made bacon and eggs onto it. She then turned to take the plate to the table while belting a particularly high note, even for Brian Johnson, and smiled when she saw McGee watching her. Instead of walking passed him, she set the plate on the counter and wrapped her arms around him while he returned the gesture before switching off the CD player next to him.

“Good morning,” she whispered as if afraid to ruin the memories she had of him from the previous night.

“Morning,” he whispered back.

“How’d you sleep?” she asked in a slightly louder voice.

“Better than you I believe,” he smiled, “You didn’t have to clean you know.”

“I wanted to,” she lifted her head to return the smile, “Besides, I couldn’t very well make breakfast if the dishes weren’t done. You’ve been neglecting your chores Timothy.”

“What are you gonna do about it?” he asked.

“Hmm…. It’s going to have to wait for after work,” she growled playfully.

“I’m ready now,” he growled back as he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to hers.

Her arms moved from his waist to around his neck and her hands entwined themselves into his hair. His grip on her waist tightened and one hand cupped her face as the kiss deepened. Things were getting heavier and heavier when… the phone rang. With a grunt McGee released the hand from her face and picked up the phone from the receiver on the wall behind him.

“Timothy McGee,” he said into the receiver.

Johnson tried not to listen but her hypersensitive ears betrayed her as Gibbs scolded him for not being at headquarters by now and asked where he was and where Lt. Johnson was.

“Tell him-,” she began before his hand covered her mouth.

“I’m sorry boss, I was just leaving when you called,” he explained.

“Rule 4, McGee!” Johnson heard Gibbs shout with extra volume.

“Yes boss,” he said, his voice had a twinge of embarrassment to it.

Johnson massaged his scalp to relieve some of his tension.

“Now let go of Lt. Johnson’s ass and get your ass over here!” the former Marine shouted, his voice projected through the phone making the tiny wires buzz.
McGee pulled the phone away from his ear suddenly at the loud voice from his boss and placed it back on the receiver.

The Lieutenant grimaced, “That was unexpected.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t already know,” he said slyly to hide the shame in his voice.

“As loud as his thoughts are, I can’t hear them all the way over here, hun,” she chucked, “and don’t be ashamed.”

McGee laughed along with her, his ears and cheeks turned red.

“We should probably be going now,” she said with a grim tone.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

A minute later they were still standing in the same spot with their lips together. Once their urge had been fulfilled, for now anyway, they moved quickly to get dressed and headed out to McGee’s car. Although the day looked as if it weren’t going to be very pleasant, the stormy clouds over Washington D.C. looked a bit brighter with Johnson’s hand in his as he drove.

Ch. 11
“C’mon Probie, you have to tell me if you got a piece of that,” DiNozzo said openly seeing as the Lieutenant was left behind with Abby at NCIS.

“You know me, Tony. I don’t kiss and tell,” McGee found himself smiling as e took a picture of the latest crime scene provided my Marijgell.

DiNozzo stopped his task and turned towards McGee.

“You got some last night didn’t you?” he inquired with enthusiasm.

McGee simply continued to take pictures without looking at the Senior Field Agent.

“No. it wouldn’t be that easy for you,” he said with skepticism.

“And why is that?” McGee responded.

“You did!” he exclaimed, “You did.”

McGee didn’t respond.

“You did,” DiNozzo smiled, “Our little Probie has finally popped his cherry.”
“That wasn’t my first time,” McGee turned, his ears turning red.

“Sure Probie,” he said patting McGee’s back.

“It wasn’t!” he exclaimed.

“Wasn’t what McGee?” Gibbs asked as he walked in carrying his coffee.

“N-nothing boss,” McGee stammered.

DiNozzo laughed at McGee’s expense making Gibbs smack him on the head as he walked passed to interview the witness.

“Same MO as the first two victims boss,” he said in a tight voice, “the only difference this time is that he killed both victim and the person he hung from the ceiling. But Miss Terry over here thinks she saw him as he was driving off.”

“Miss Terry?” Gibbs questioned.

“Yeah boss. She’s a prostitute who was on her way home from a… gig, when she heard the screams and saw Marijgell running out the back,” DiNozzo explained.

“How did she know what Marijgell look like?” Gibbs stopped, the fury in his eyes was apparent.

“Um-well-uh-you see,” he stammered.

Gibbs’ stare intensified and the fire grew hotter.

“The FBI put out a bolo on him,” he finally managed.

“Tobias,” Gibbs shook his head and continued to walk around the scene.

Back at NCIS, Gibbs, McGee and DiNozzo found Johnson and Captain Richardson having a heated discussion in the corner behind the stairs leading to MTAC and the director’s office.

“… and it is completely unacceptable that you would do so,” they caught the Captain’s words just as they exited the elevator.

While the others moved on to their desks, McGee hung back to catch the rest of the conversation.

“Well… do you have anything to say for yourself?” Cpt. Richardson fumed.

“Only that I am deeply sorry, sir, and that although my actions completely went against protocol, I am not ashamed for what I have done,” she said standing at attention, “and furthermore, sir, it has come apparent that because of my actions, I shall resign from the Navy.”

McGee watched as she pulled out her pass and handed it to her Captain. Richardson’s hand enclosed around the pass as he continued to stare down the Lieutenant. McGee was ready to intervene when he saw Richardson replace Johnson’s pass into its holder on her belt.

“The next time you hand me our pass, Lieutenant Johnson, you had better be prepared to lose not only it, but every award you’ve received in the Navy,” he threatened before walking around the steps and up them to the director’s office.

The next thing McGee knew, Johnson was at his side with the saddest look in her eyes he’d ever seen in a person.

“We need to talk,” she whispered brokenly.

“McGee! Johnson! Get over here!” Gibbs’ voice cut them in half.

Quickly they made their way over to the desks and saw Abby was talking in a racing voice about her discovery.

“… so I did a spectral analysis of the composition and found it to be… ink,” she smiled very proudly despite McGee and Johnson being in the same vicinity so close to each other, “But not just any ink.”

“What kind Abby?” Gibbs said, the anxiety in his voice not very well hidden.

“The kind used by D.C.’s own Washington Times,” she smiled even wider making her blood red mouth stretch across her face completely.

“Let’s go! DiNozzo and David, take the Sedan over to the Washington Times’ and fill them in on the situation,” Gibbs ordered.

“What if they ask for a warrant?” David asked.

“Tell them there’s a dangerous Vampire on the loose in their building,” Johnson offered, “That’ll get them to cooperate.”

“McGee and Johnson, I want you too to hack into their system and pull up their security cameras,” Gibbs continued once he grabbed his gun and loaded a new clip into it, “And Abby….”

Abby broke her glare at Lt. Johnson and turned her full attention to Gibbs.

“Good work,” he said softly.

Ch. 12
At the warehouse owned by the Washington Times, McGee and Johnson sat in a black van working on getting into the system. McGee worked on getting into the cameras while Johnson hacked into their files of employees from the past 20 years. Outside, DiNozzo, David, and Gibbs waited at their respective posts for the go ahead from McGee.

“Do you ever wonder how he does it?” Johnson asked suddenly.

“What? Who?” McGee tore his eyes away from the monitor for a brief second.

“Gibbs. How’d he know what we did last night?” she asked.

“Cause he’s Gibbs. And Gibbs knows all,” he replied.

Johnson smiled, “You’d think there was some Magick in him.”

McGee stopped for a second and thought about that, “Wouldn’t surprise me really.”

“So he’s always like that? Knowing what you’ve done before you’ve done it?”

“That’s Gibbs.”

“And the head smacking?”

“It’s what his boss did to him as a Probie.”

“He was a Probie once?” she smiled.

“Yes, unfathomable but true,” he laughed.

“McGee stop flirting and get a move on,” Gibbs’ voice crackled through their headsets.

“Okay boss you’re green for go,” he said without missing a beat.

“Gibbs I found Marijgell,” Johnson said, “He’s a box boy under the name Malick Hassa. And get this; he’s registered as a Vampire from Roman times.”

“Good job Lieutenant Johnson, now tell me where this bastard is,” Gibbs ordered.

“He’s on the top floor in a room down the hall and to the left,” McGee answered.

They watched as Gibbs and David ran up the stairs while DiNozzo took the long route out back. Gibbs stood on one side of the door and David too the other; after waiting a quick second, Gibbs gave the nod and they burst through the door.

“NCIS!!” David called.

But the room was empty save for a recently mutilated body of a woman in army fatigues. David dropped to the floor to check for a pulse and found the faintest of heartbeats.

“She’s still alive,” she reported.

“I need an ambulance at the Washington Times building three top floor,” Gibbs radioed.

He walked over to the single open window and looked out into the alleyway below to see DiNozzo.

“Sorry boss, we lost him,” he apologized.

Gibbs looked around and slammed his hand down hard on the windowsill once he confirmed DiNozzo’s observation. Once the Medics arrived and carried the woman away, Team Gibbs returned to base and began discussing a new plan.

“We need to change how were looking at this guy,” DiNozzo said.

“He’s definitely going to kill again,” Ducky’s voice said from the monitor behind them where he was in conference with the team and Abby, “He didn’t have the opportunity to finish this meal this time so he feels the need to satiate this hunger of his.”

“Wait…,” Lt. Johnson said, “I hear him.”

“Hear him?” Abby’s question came out garbled in the shaky feed.

“Abby?” McGee said in confusion as he typed in a few key codes.

“Shh… he’s mad. Very mad,” Johnson said, “He wants the woman but he doesn’t know where we took her.”

Everybody froze in place, some held their breaths.

“He… he’s trying to find the right scent trail, but there’s so many intermingling. I think he’s in a public place. I can see now… he’s standing behind a statue.”

“What statue? Can you see?” Gibbs asked.

“There are columns, like the Romans had. That’s why he’s there, the columns remind him of home and it comforts him,” she continued.

“The Lincoln Memorial,” McGee realized.

“Let’s go!” Gibbs ordered.

“Wait there’s more… he’s finding his next victim, a certain scent caught his interest. He likes the smell of chamomile,” she opened her eyes, “That’s what sets him off.”

“Chamomile?” David asked.

“You see, every Vampire has a favorite scent, it’s what draws them to their victims. Whether it’s natural or artificial, when a person is drawing a Vampire in via their scent, they’re done for. Unless the Vampire has incredible control, in which I only know of a few cases like that, the scent drives the Vampire crazy and even the oldest and most discipline of Vampires will lose complete control,” she explained.

“That gives me an idea!” DiNozzo exclaimed.

“Does it have anything to do with a movie?” Gibbs asked.

“Not sure but, hear me out,” he said, “we get some chamomile and rub it on one or two of us to confuse him.”

“It’s too dangerous,” Gibbs said, “Didn’t you just hear what she said-?”

“I’ll do it,” Johnson said, “He can’t kill me.”

“Where do we get chamomile though?” David asked.

“Give me two minutes,” Johnson said opening the door to the outside world, “Go ahead and start over, I’ll meet you there.”

Before McGee could protest her actions, she was gone.

Ch. 13
“This isn’t a good idea, Am,” McGee told Johnson as they were opening the packages of chamomile.

“Why?” she turned to him with a bit of a smile.

“I just don’t think you should be the one to risk your life,” he mumbled, struggling with the plastic wrap.

Lt. Johnson took the chamomile tea from him and wrapped her arms around him, “I know you’re worried about me, Timmy. But I have to do this.”

“No, you don’t,” McGee wrapped his arms around her as well, one hand moved into her hair.

The doorknob turned, breaking the Lieutenant and McGee apart. Abby walked through the door with Gibbs, as usual, the Lab Tech’s eyes narrowed as soon as she saw Johnson.

“Do you really plan to rub yourself down with bags of chamomile tea, Lt. Johnson?” Abby’s voice had a certain smug quality to it.

“Better than that, Miss Sciuto,” Johnson smiled, “I’m going to do exactly what Saiyan perfume makers do. Extract the pure scent from the tiny, pulverized leaves.”

“And how do you plan on doing this?” Gibbs asked with a thin, white eyebrow raised.

“Like this…,” she took one of the bags and ripped open the filter to reveal the shriveled up leaves.

She dumped the leaves into her open palm and placed the other hand over top of the first. After that, things began to get really weird for the NCIS employees. Johnson’s emerald eyes began to glow brilliantly, but that wasn’t the detail that caused even Gibbs to jump back. A thick, greenish-yellow fog began to seep through the Lieutenant’s fingers before hitting the floor and snaking out across the hard linoleum. The smell of chamomile, strong and demanding, filled their nostrils and stuck to the back of their throats. Once satisfied with whatever she had done, Lt. Johnson held her hands over a glass bottle sitting on the countertop and let what looked like water drip into the narrow opening.

“Is that how they do it… wherever?” Abby asked, the anxiety in her voice turning the gravely tone she usually held into that of a child.

“Charon, furthest planet from the sun, its capital Saiya, was the birthplace for my grandmother, and the rest of my people. And yes, it is. I basically super-charged the tea leaves and evaporated the solid molecules making them… solid. The liquid remaining is the pure scent of the chamomile that our killer is so fond of,” she picked up the bottle that held the tiny amount of liquid swirling around at the bottom, “This tiny amount is enough for even humans to smell, but in order to secure our mouse in this little trap of ours, I’m going to fill this whole bottle up.”

She gave the liquid a swirl and the light danced across its surface, casting tiny rainbows on the surface of the glass. Once satisfied in her plan, Gibbs and Abby left McGee ad Johnson to their work.

“So your aunt, how did she come to be friends with you parents?” McGee asked after the tenth chamomile bag had been ripped open.

“My mom and blood aunt went to school with Kay and Em,” she explained.

“Em?”

“Emily Black. She’s an FBI agent now, working with the BAU.”

“Wow. But that doesn’t answer my question.”

Johnson couldn’t help but smile, “It was kindergarten. My mom and aunt were new, just transferred in from Romania, so naturally, they were nervous, scared. Until they met a one, Kyrie Humphreys, sitting alone in the corner with some building blocks. Aunt Kay was always made fun of as a kid, my mom and Aunt Faye were the first to see what she truly was. A few years later, Emily Black transferred from the famous Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, having learned all she could in just four short years there; she branched off from her family’s home and came to the States.

“She met Aunt Kay first, like my mom had, she saw something… something special in my mom. Even though she was spurned by the rest of their classmates, Emily opted to stay out of the limelight and stick with the trio of outcasts turned quartet. They all joined the band in fourth grade, my mom picked the saxophone, particularly the bari sax, Aunt Faye chose the trumpet, Aunt Em took up the trombone, and Aunt Kay the flute,” she paused a second to drip the scent into the bottle McGee held out for her.

“Then the accident happened. It all started when they were in eighth grade and Aunt Kay broke her ankle, she got in shape in the months following her surgery and to celebrate… they went on a camping/hiking trip through the Appalachians. But little did they know, our dear friend Ariella Marijgell was in the area, and caught wind of Emily and Kay, then humans. They tried to hold them off as long as they could but…,” she stopped; her voice was thick with tears that didn’t come, “In the end, Kyrie’s true nature was unleashed. She turned out to be the reincarnation of… well, you heard the title.

“After all that, she discovered her knack for not only hockey, but music, as well as writing. My mom went on to marry my dad and my aunt’s their respective husbands, then me and my cousins were born. Then comes many, many boring stories that will put you to sleep which I just… cannot have seeing as you’re the only one willing to help me.”

“Where do your parents live now?” McGee asked before he could stop himself.

“Right now they’re on tour around Europe,” she said as she worked her magick on the latest batch of leaves, “And after that’s all done with, Florida. Dad loves it there for some reason.”

They were silent once more for the remainder of their task. McGee would tear open each bag and dump its contents into her open palm, after ten bags were in her hand, she closed it and changed the pile of black into the same rainbow liquid that was now almost full.

Ch. 14
The ominous black van pulled up behind the Lincoln Memorial and the three agents stuffed in the back poured out with relief. Lt. Johnson clutched the glass vial full of the pure chamomile scent as she stumbled across the green grass like a drunk person. After she steadied herself, McGee and DiNozzo jumped down and joined her.

“Does she always drive like that or just when we’re in a hurry?” Johnson asked.

DiNozzo chuckled as he checked the clip in his Sig Saucer, “Always. That was actually slower than usual.”

With a sigh she tightened the spray nozzle on the vial and began to leave a trail to lead Marijgell towards their trap.

“See you in a short bit,” she smiled before running off to complete the bait.

McGee stared at the spot she had been standing in for a few seconds longer than normal and DiNozzo took notice.

“So you really do love her, huh,” it wasn’t a question.

“Yeah, I do,” McGee answered anyway.

“Just be careful Probie. Don’t get your heart broken,” he warned quietly.

McGee had nothing to say in return DiNozzo had never offered him advice such as this before unless it came with a punch line. By the time David and Gibbs had grabbed their gear from the back of the van Johnson had returned and was spraying herself with the chamomile. When she saw the longing look in his blue-grey eyes, she beckoned to him. They stepped behind the safety of the van and away from the prying eyes of the NCIS team.

“I still think that-,” McGee began before Johnson’s lips attacked his.

A fire began where their lips met, ignited by a spark that had been dormant for the past two days since they were in bed for the first time. His hands cupped her face while her arms wrapped around his neck to pull him closer to her. After a while though the fire began to dim as they remembered what they had to do. But when they broke apart, they still clutched to each other for support; as if the world had shattered underneath their feet and if they moved they too would shatter along with it.

“I have to do this Timmy,” she panted.

“No. no you don’t,” he insisted.

“If I don’t, he’s going to kill again,” she said with her eyes still closed as she leaned into him, “and when that happens, it’ll be my entire fault because I had the chance to stop him before.”

“You aren’t responsible for what happens because of him,” he pulled her back and looked her straight into her emerald eyes.

She looked at him for a few seconds before giving a slow nod.

“McGee!” Gibbs’ voice split them in two and reassembled the world around them.

“Let’s do this,” she whispered.

Johnson ran off while McGee jogged around the van to run directly into Gibbs leaning against the back bumper. The look in his eye told McGee that he knew more than the average bear but McGee couldn’t tell if he was disappointed or approved. As he walked passed the Supervisory Senior Field Agent, the Navy Lieutenant walked up to DiNozzo and David with the vial still held in her hands. With the tiniest of sprays, Johnson covered them in the scent.

“That is all?” David asked.

“This stuff is strong, even a tiny amount such as that is enough to drive him off his rocker for at least a few minutes,” she explained.

“I can’t even smell anything,” DiNozzo sniffed his shirt in curiosity.

“Trust me, Marijgell can.”

“Okay people listen up,” Gibbs ordered, “Lt. Johnson is the one who’s gonna take this sucker down. All you have to do is keep moving and stay alive.”

“Yes, the scent is everywhere so he won’t be able to distinguish one person from the other, and it’s strong enough in the air to muddle his senses,” Johnson said.

“If we are going against a Vampire unable to be shot then why do we have-,” David began.

“Reassurance,” Gibbs said, “The people here won’t panic as much as long as they feel an authority present.”

“I’ll be keeping Marijgell away from the humans, you keep-,” Johnson began.

“The humans away from Marijgell,” DiNozzo finished pulling back the barrel on his Sig to emphasize his point, “Got it.”
“In order to keep in contact, seeing as it’s too hard to stay under cover around a Vampire with a wire, I’ll be the Conduit,” Johnson said.

“A what?” David asked.

“A link so we can all share thoughts and communicate,” she explained, “Of course it’ll only be on the surface. Meaning the communication won’t penetrate the id.”

Before anyone could object a bloodcurdling scream split the air.

“That’s our cue. Let’s go!” Gibbs ordered.

Without another word they split up and took their respective positions.

‘He’s trying to find someone to attack but the scent is throwing him off,’ Johnson’s observation cut through their minds.

“I don’t get it,” Gibbs complained, “How’s this supposed to work?”

‘Just think,’ Johnson told them.

‘Testing?’ David’s unsure thought sounded through everyone’s mind.

‘Whoa… trippy,’ DiNozzo’s excitement rang loud and clear, ‘Echooooooo.’

‘Huh. This gives me an idea-,’ McGee’s idea began to play.

‘Keep it hidden Timmy. A wall, put up a wall,’ Johnson’s hurried thought distracted the rest of the team.

‘McGeek… didn’t know you had it in you,’ David laughed.

‘Focus people,’ Gibbs demanded, ‘Okay, I got Marijgell in my sights.’

The olive-skinned Vampire staggered across Gibbs’ with a wild look in his bloody red eyes. A viscous substance dripped from his lips and fell to the ground like rain drops, but unlike rain the substance burned through granite walkway leading to the marble steps of the memorial to one of the nation’s greatest leaders.

‘That’s the venom. If he bites you or that somehow gets into your bloodstream, you’ll be turned,’ Johnson pictured the process her Aunts had explained to her.

‘Ouch. Okay, no venom contact. Got it,’ DiNozzo cringed.

McGee moved as silently as possible around behind Marijgell to block him from the steps as the tourists took cover in the walls of the memorial. But when his foot kicked a loose rock Marijgell’s way, the rabid Vampire turned and lunged toward the vulnerable agent.

“Timmy!!!” Lt. Johnson’s screech pierced their ears as she ran after him.

The Vampire turned towards the oncoming threat and used Agent McGee to block her attack. Leaving black marks on the walkway, Johnson stopped; her chest heaved with the effort tot not lunge forward. A twisted smile crossed Marijgell’s face as he held McGee’s arm contorted behind his back. The pained look on McGee’s face revealed what his pleading thoughts didn’t.

‘Kill him Am, please just kill this bastard,’ his thoughts cried out between the external shouts.

“Kill me and the human dies!” Marijgell’s voice said in Greek; it came out in clear bell tones, like the one’s you would hear from a funeral procession.

‘What did he say!?’ Gibbs’ panicked thoughts shouted form his position in the bushes.

‘That he’ll kill Timmy if we kill him,’ Johnson reported, rage seethed in her internal voice.

“Leave now and nobody has to die,” Marijgell ordered.

“You know we can’t do that Ariella,” Lt. Johnson said aloud.

“Do it!” his funeral bell voice began to plead.

“Just let him go and I promise they won’t hurt you,” she said.

“I am dead either way,” Marijgell’s voice turned grave.

‘Boss, what are they saying? I can’t hear,’ DiNozzo thought.

‘I don’t know, just sit tight,’ Gibbs ordered as calmly as he could manage.

“Just let him go, they won’t do anything. Remember, you’re an original,” the Lieutenant continued, “If you give in now they can still spare you. But if you kill Agent McGee, they’ll have no choice.”

Lt. Johnson took a fraction of a step forward, but a breeze picked up and blew the chamomile scent towards Marijgell. This made him snap back into focus; a snarl ripped through his chest, venom splashed on McGee’s back, the acidic bio-chemical eating straight through the lining of his jacket. With a twist, Marijgell snapped McGee’s wrist, forcing a cry of both horror and pain through the trained NCIS Agent’s mouth. The scream mingled with the scent and Ariella Marijgell couldn’t hold back any longer.
He opened his jaws wide and bit into McGee’s shoulder. The diamond like teeth constructed by Ares to rip and tear through shields and barriers made the fabric of McGee’s jacket and shirt seem like nothing but fog. The cry from McGee’s throat no longer resembled that of a human but some primeval creature as it burned his throat raw and cut the air with razors. Without thinking, Lt. Johnson let her instincts, so different from Marijgell’s, to take control of her body. Time seemed to slow as she moved forward to pull Marijgell’s teeth from McGee and pulled her love away from the doomed monstrosity.

Shots rang out from three sides as soon as Johnson and McGee were clear from the line of fire. An automatic reaction programmed into the Special Agents’ wiring, they didn’t realize what they were doing until it was too late. Marijgell made another attempt to grab at McGee but they had moved too far from him. As soon as DiNozzo was supporting the weight of his fellow team member, Lt. Johnson turned and pulled the chamomile vial from her pocket. Instead of pressing the trigger to release more of the scent into the air, she tore off the top and poured the rest of the liquid onto her head before casting the empty glass vial aside.

In order to truly confuse and divert his attention, the Lieutenant ran circles around him. Once… twice… three time… and a fourth before Marijgell’s hands grasped at her. He pulled her towards his body with wide open jaws ready to receive her Romanian blood. But just as his teeth grazed the skin of her expose throat, he froze with a cry of surprise. He released Johnson and looked down at the red blossoms spreading on his chest arms and legs. With a choking noise, Marijgell collapsed onto the ground… dead.

‘Timmy,’ Lt. Johnson’s mind screamed breaking the connection between the NCIS team members with an audible snap.

She rushed over to DiNozzo setting McGee down onto the lawn as gently as possible. The pain in his features confirmed to her the only solution. She ripped open his shirt and took one hesitant look at the wound; the blood still flowed easily, sped up both by McGee’s adrenaline and the venom’s ability to keep his blood from clotting. Without a second to spare, she covered the wound with her mouth and began to suck the venom from his system. DiNozzo cleared his throat and called in an Emergency Response team. When the blood hit her system, Johnson felt an immediate wave of nausea wash over her, but she held on to save McGee. It was only when his eyes opened and he looked up at the sky that the Vampural Lieutenant pulled away.

With a smile she pulled his head into her lap, “I thought I was going to lose you there for a second.”

“For a second, I was lost,” he admitted.

Epilogue
“We have had many great men and women join our ranks to serve this great country of ours. But it was only recently that we included Magicks into our nations military. Tonight we recognize the achievements and new rankings of some of the Navy’s Magick Officers. Former Ensign Eric Burrows, now Lieutenant Junior Grade Eric Burrows. Former Commander Dane Crones, now Captain Dane Crones. Former Lieutenant Commander Sarah Dane now Commander Sarah Dane…,” the Master of Ceremonies called each name one by one in the same dulled over voice he had been using the entire event.

“Geez! When is this supposed to be over with?” DiNozzo complained.

“Be patient Tony, it’s only been two hours,” David said.

“Two hours? Only two hours?” Tony whispered sarcastically.

“Quiet here she comes,” McGee shushed them.

“… Former Lieutenant Amelia Johnson now Lieutenant Commander Amelia Johnson…,” the MC called.

The team at NCIS, including Ducky, Jimmy and Abby, all stood to applaud her achievement as LCDR Johnson stood and walked straight as a board to the stage to receive her plaque and patches before exiting and rejoining the rest of the Naval Officers. As Abby sat back down, she couldn’t help but feel a weight press down on her chest when she saw the way McGee looked at the Lieutenant Commander.

‘It really is over,’ she realized.

“Hey Tim,” Johnson called when she was finally free of the other Navy personnel.

“Hey Morning,” he greeted her with the new pet name he gave her.

Her cheeks flushed from ivory to rose, “I though I told you not to call me that in public Timothy.”

“Then when can I call you-,” he was cut off by her hand covering his mouth.

“Come on. I need to check your bandages,” she giggled.

“You changed them before the ceremony,” his muffled voice said from behind her hand.

“Well… I think they need changed again,” she said with a wink.

With a chuckle McGee let her guide him to the parking lot.
“How the hell does he do it?” DiNozzo asked in disbelief.

“Do what?” David asked following his line of sight.

“That,” he pointed to the closing door that lead to the parking lot, “Get such a hottie. Even if she is a Vampire.”

“Not everything is about looks to women you know Tony,” she pointed out.

“Most of the time it is. This is simply an anomaly,” he shook his head.

Once they rushed back to Johnson’s apartment, she sat McGee down on the couch and got the gauze for his bite.

“But I though…,” McGee looked confused.

“Oh it is. But you still need looked at, and for the next three weeks, I’ll be your nurse,” she said sitting down beside him.

“But the doctor said I’ll be healed up within a couple days,” one of McGee’s eyebrows rose.

“I’ll be off for three weeks and so will you. I convinced your director that these kinds of wounds take… time to heal. I told him that three weeks is perfect and that I’ll be off from the Navy anyway cause our next deployment isn’t until July,” she explained, “Now, take your clothes off,” she purred in his ear.

“Does it really require for all my clothes to be off?” he smiled.

“With Nurse Amelia it does,” she straddled his hips and began unbuttoning his shirt.

Giving in, McGee took her face in his hands and pressed his mouth to hers.

Sequal
Prologue
Lieutenant Commander Amelia Johnson inserted her keys into her Washington, D.C. apartment as quietly as possible so as not to disturb Mrs. O’ Neil, her batty old neighbor who has had a thing against the Lieutenant Commander since she first stepped foot in the building. Although she was a Vampire in the Navy, Johnson still had trouble getting by the 75 year old woman with a vendetta against Magicks. As soon as she pushed opened the door, Mrs. O’ Neil bespectacled head popped through her doorway at the end of the hall.
“I found your latest victim!” her screech stopped LTCR Johnson in her tracks.
“I haven’t eaten all month. I’m not due to do so until next week,” she smiled sweetly.
“Then how do you explain the dead raccoon behind the dumpster?” Mrs. O’ Neil shrieked.
“Please, Mrs. O’ Neil. It’s late and you don’t really want to wake the whole building up do you?” Johnson pleaded.
“Don’t play coy with me! You’re a murderer! A sicko! They should lock you up for good!” the old woman continued even when Johnson had shut and locked the door to her apartment.
With a heavy sigh, she shed her long trench coat and flipped on the television. Just as she poured herself a glass of iced tea, a tiny blip from her computer told her that her one and only was awake.
‘Rough day?’ his IM said.
‘You don’t know the half of it, sweetie,’ she typed with a little smile.
‘Wanna talk about it?’ he sent with a little smile face.
‘Are there any flies?’ she asked, meaning if anyone was listening or watching.
‘Not unless they’ve bugged my apartment. Lol,’ he typed his fingers almost as fast as hers.
‘Okay. Webcam, please?’ she typed.
A second later a little window with her love, Special Agent Timothy McGee, in it popped up.
“So then… tell me all about it,” he said.
“Well, I just got home and right as I was opening the door, Mrs. O’ Nutjob pops out to accuse me of dead raccoons,” she said.
“Again?” one of his eyebrows rose in suspicion.
“Yeah,” she took a sip of tea to calm herself, “the garbage men run over them every week and, of course, I’m the one blamed.”
“What’s her problem with you anyway?” McGee asked.
“I have no clue, sweetheart. All I know is something attacked her and her husband when she was young. Like our age young,” she said with a sigh.
LTCR Johnson leaned back in her chair with the glass in her hand.
“Is that some of your Aunt’s Iced Tea?” he asked.
“Yeah, she came over to visit while you were busy in Tampa,” she smiled.
“Well, at least you had your Aunt Kay to keep you company while I had to listen to Tony describe to me and Ziva all the Rambo movies,” he rolled his blue-grey eyes.
“Awww. Does Timmy need me to come over and drive the psychological disturbances from his mind?” she purred setting down the glass.
“Or you could help from here,” he smiled.
“As you wish, Special Agent,” she smiled back, showing the fangs that set her apart from every other tenant in her building.
She stood from her chair and retreated to the bedroom to change into something more suitable for her geeky, NCIS agent boyfriend.
“And does this suit thee well?” she asked sporting a sexy lingerie getup he bought her for Christmas.
McGee took a long look at her slender figure with a gulp, “It does.”
With a giggle she sat back down and let her silver-blonde hair fall over her shoulders, “And what does my Special Agent want me to do?”
McGee’s eyes widened, “To turn around.”
“What?” she asked caught a little off guard.
“Turn around Amelia! Someone’s there with you!” he shouted.
LTCR Johnson turned around in time for a bat to crash into her head, knocking her unconscious.
“Amelia? Amelia!” McGee shouted as he watched the black figure drag her away before picking up his cell phone to call the only person he knew who could help.

Ch. 1
“Are you sure we should really be doing this?” Mussad Officer Ziva David asked as she and Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo sat at McGee’s computer.
“He isn’t Gibbs. He won’t know we were here,” DiNozzo dismissed.
“He’ll find out one way or another,” David whispered.
“Find out what, David?” Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs asked as he walked between the desks to get to his own across from McGee’s.
“Uh, nothing, Boss. We were just checking up on McGee,” DiNozzo explained nervously.
“Gear up, we got a case,” Gibbs said ignoring DiNozzo’s lame-ass excuse.
“Really? Where?” DiNozzo asked as he dashed to grab his pack from under his desk.
“Lieutenant Commander Amelia Johnson’s,” Gibbs said.
DiNozzo and David stopped in their tracks.
“Is everything alright?” David asked her partner.
“I don’t know. Could explain why McGeek hasn’t shown up for work,” DiNozzo replied.
“Now!” Gibbs shouted from the elevator.
At Amelia Johnson’s apartment they found McGee already inside taking photographs of the scene before him. When he looked up from his camera, David and DiNozzo could see that his eyes were red.
“What happened?” David asked.
“Amelia was kidnapped,” he whispered hoarsely.
“I’m so sorry Probie,” DiNozzo said clapping a hand on McGee’s shoulder. “There’s other fish in the sea.”
“He said she’s been kidnapped, not murdered DiNozzo,” Gibbs walked in holding his morning coffee.
“Right, Boss. Begin processing the scene,” DiNozzo said aloud the unspoken command.
“Start in the alleyway, the kidnapper could have been parked out there and left on the fire escape,” McGee said.
David and DiNozzo looked from one another to Agent Gibbs.
“You heard him. Start in the alley,” Gibbs ordered, “Hey McGee.”
McGee turned back to computer where he last saw Johnson.
“McGee,” Gibbs repeated, “Go get some coffee. This’ll all still be here when you get back.”
“Boss I-,” he began, “I’m just worried we’ll be too late.”
“Hey,” Gibbs smacked McGee on the back 0f the head to focus him, “Don’t ever have doubt. Ever.”
“Yes, Boss,” McGee handed over the camera before walking out the door as he rubbed his head.
Meanwhile, thirty miles away in an old Army Bunker, LTCR Johnson was just waking up from taking a bat to her head. When she tried to open her mouth or even move, she found herself taped and tied from head-to-toe to a rickety old chair. From the smell she could tell she was underground but she couldn’t tell how far. From the feel of things, nothing was broken but her head was pounding like nobody’s business. With a groan she strained against the rope and duct tape around her wrists to no avail.
“Ahh. You’re awake,” a voice said.
From a dark corner in the room she saw a man step from the shadows, his face obscured by a ski mask.
“It’s no use to struggle Lieutenant Commander,” the voice behind the mask said, “Negatoralis is abundant in these hills. You’re completely powerless.”
Back at NCIS headquarters, McGee repeated his eyewitness account to Gibbs for the thousandth time.
“Like I said. She had just gotten in from duty and was telling me about her day,” he repeated.
“And you were actually listening?” DiNozzo asked in disbelief.
“You’d be surprised how interesting she could be,” McGee turned and told off his colleague.
“Yeah, for a female Navy Lieutenant Commander,” DiNozzo chuckled before he saw the look in his superior officer’s eye and stopped, “We found nothing but a horde of dead raccoons and a lot of beer bottles in the alleyway, Boss.”
“Okay, McGee. Take Amelia’s personal effects and computer down to Abby,” Gibbs stood and walked up the steps that led to Director Vance’s office.
“Uh oh,” David said.
“Uh oh, what uh oh?” DiNozzo asked.
“Ever since McGee and Amelia have been going out, Abby has been like a cold dish towards him,” she explained.
“You mean ‘a cold fish’, Ziva. And why? She never had any interest in McProbie,” DiNozzo watched McGee walk by carrying the crate of the Lieutenant Commander’s things towards the elevator.
Ziva let out a laugh once McGee was out of range, “You really don’t see it?”
“See what?” DiNozzo asked, “What?!”

Ch. 3
The journey through the American wilds was a treacherous one. The Young family had to make their way through many old cities and abandoned towns from the 21st century. It was made even more difficult with them having to hull around the CryoChamber holding the reincarnation of Jesus Christ himself. It wasn’t a very large one, but the extra space it took to keep it secured in the back of one of the two large 16 wheelers they drove. Faye and Angus rode in the front truck while one of their twin sons rode behind them in a modified Hummer, and the other twin navigated the other 16 wheeler. Music blared from the front 16 wheeler that could be heard from miles around, scaring the wildlife and alerting Magicks of their procession.
“Ang! Do you think the music’s too loud!?” Faylene shouted over the bass line.
“There’s no such thing!” he shouted back with a smile.
“I concur, Dad,” Ronald Belford Young called over the CB radio sitting atop the dashboard.
“How dare you steal my line,” Jonathan Matthew Young’s voice said next.
“You wanna go?” Ron, also known as Bon to his friends and family, challenged.
“Bring it on little brother,” John retorted.
“That’s enough boys,” Faye ordered, “I know you’re all a little cranky, but we only have a few more miles to go.”
“Where are we stopping? France?” Bon asked.
“There’s a trail leading up the mountains we’re gonna be taking. But first we’ll stop and rest in a nearby town,” Angus reported.
“So let’s kick things into gear and get a move on!” Bon exclaimed.
“By the Gods this is boring,” John called out five minutes later.
“‘By the Gods?’ Who the **** says that?” Bon laughed.
“Your Aunt Kay,” Faye replied in a somewhat solemn voice.
The trip from then on was quiet except for the pounding music that still filled their ears. It had been years since they last saw the Crosby’s, being they were on the run. After the second attempt at Romanis’ assassination, the Crosby’s went into hiding, taking only what they needed to survive the wild’s they lived in. For the next few minutes, all was quiet through out the trucks. The only sound rushing by their hypersensitive ears being the sound of the guitar solo Angus had recorded over 300 years prior, the hot, dry wind, and the distant towns miles behind and ahead of them.
“Hey, why don’t we play a game?” John suggested in order to release the tension they all felt.
“Sure, what do you have in mind?” Bon asked trying to be sarcastic but the tone of his voice was too flat.
“How about the quiet game?” John said and a series of groans followed.
Pop. The little tension bubble went as the Young family protested against on of the twins favorite games.
* * *
“How do things look out there?” Grey asked as he joined Mike on the cliff face.
“Quiet. Like they always do,” the Welsh kid replied.
“Okay, just let us know when the lights go out,” Grey said.
He stood as carefully as he dared to keep the loose rocks from falling down the mountain face and alerting the Sentries floating dangerously close bellow them and walked over to the rest of the crew he and Mike brought along.
“How are things looking over here?” he asked Riley.
“Fine, we’re all set,” she said without looking up from the stew she was cooking over the smokeless fire, a Faylene Young invention.
‘Faye… I wonder how they’re all doing…,’ he thought before he could stop himself.
It had been three years since their attempt to take Romanis down failed miserably in Romanis’ stronghold in Paris. Since then, the members of the Resistance recruited by Kyrie Crosby have lived in seclusion. They moved from place to place but always keeping near or in the mountain chain that now ran completely around the world, thanks to Jack, the nickname they gave to the black boy with green eyes who was really Jesus Christ.
‘Dammit, there I go again,’ he scolded himself for delving on the past.
In order to stop the memories full of pain and sorrow from taking over like they have so many times before, Grey walked over to the small cave set in the mountain face and lit a cigarette. As he took a long drag on the smoking stick, he let out a small chuckle as he remembered the stories of how these things used to cause millions of deaths each year.
“There used to be these TV commercials that advertised the ‘Truth about smoking’. Some of the claims were outrageous! But all true,” Kay’s voice floated through his mind.
Another drag from the cigarette manufactured to calm one’s nerves and release tension and the voice quieted to a gentle hum that Grey barely noticed. He did notice, however, when he tasted only the filter after the medicinal herbs wrapped in the paper burned away to nothing but ashes on his dark jeans.
“Hey, we’re ready to go,” Mike called from his vantage point.
When Grey looked up from the mouth of the cave, he saw the sky was now dark and the lights below in the small mountain town all out except for those of the Sentries that patrolled the streets.
“Okay… let’s get this over with,” Grey stood and pulled the ParaGear from his pack.
With one final look over to his team, Grey kicked off from the cliff they were all perched on and flew downward at speeds intended to kill a normal person. But with the ParaGear, he knew everything was fine, so he let the wind whip back the growing black hair that usually hang over his eyes. And for the briefest of moments, he forgot completely about the Resistance and Romanis as he just… let… go….

Ch. 15
“No, stop it. Go away!” Romanis shouted.

Although his father was in the Earth realm now, the voices hadn’t subsided, they only grew in number. They whispered to him at all hours, telling him to do or say things, in his dreams he dreamt they were real people who had died at his hand many years ago. They accused him of their deaths and the death of so many others. Old… young… Magick… mortal… rich… poor…. They all came… their voices grew louder and louder until it drowned out the sounds of his concerned staff. They had seen their leader like this once before, when he first took power over the UESC, but then he only would answer an unspoken question or comment. It drove him mad… but not like this… this was something else.

“You’re all scum of the Earth! Unfit to walk amongst us! I did us all a favor by killing you,” he bellowed.

The pain… make it stop… so much pain….

It’s so cold… please… help us….

Some of the voices were in languages he didn’t understand even though he knew all of Earth’s languages. They sounded like a mix of all the languages while others were in some ancient dialect that belonged to the original Magick’s. A language created by the Elders and Gods long ago to convey their power. Romanis let out a long and painful moan as the voices finally subsided for a while.

“Sir, is everything okay?” the voices of his guards called out.

“Tell then you’re alright and to go back to their duties,” Lucifer whispered into his ear.

But Romanis simply lay their face down on the Oriental rug that adorned his private chambers. The young child that was Lucifer wrinkled his nose in disgust at the pathetic heap he called his son on the floor.

“Everything’s fine! Go back to your duties!” he called out in Romanis’ voice.

“But sir…,” one of the guards protested.

“NOW!” he bellowed in an otherworldly voice.

“Father why aren’t they going away?” the real Romanis groaned.

“They will in time, once you eliminate the rest of their kind,” Lucifer promised.

Of course his promise was a complete lie but he needed the sniveling creature of his son in order to complete his plan. For now he let Romanis lay on the floor as the voices became quieter and quieter for the time being. Once they became nothing but a low wine in the back of his head, Romanis finally picked himself up and sat in one of the chairs. Lucifer slowly walked over to the adjacent chair and climbed onto the centaur leather all while keeping a careful eye on his son.

“They’re getting stronger, the Resistance. We must crush them as soon as possible,” Romanis said from behind his hands.

“I agree, that is why I sent a mole,” Lucifer replied.

“A mole? Where?” the President asked.

“To the Resistance. He was able to win over some of their members and infiltrate his way into their ranks. I just sent a party to retrieve them,” he said with a nonchalant wave of his fragile hand.

“Then let’s go, I want to be there to kill them all myself,” Romanis snarled.

“No, they’re being brought back here so we can squeeze as much information from them as possible. Remember, they aren’t the only group of Magicks bent on our destruction,” Lucifer waggled a delicate ivory finger.

After a second to think things over, Romanis gave a small nod and he retreated to his bed where his wife Dalia Ibelhauptaite, known in scripture as the Whore of Babylon, lay. With a sigh, Romanis joined her and drifted into a sleep filled with nightmares about the Resistance overthrowing him and retaking the world.

* * *
“What do you think we should call him?” Piggle asked as she and a few others set up for dinner.

“Who?” Riley asked carrying a pot of fish stew over to the table.

“The boy. You know… the Jesus kid,” she whispered.

“Oh… I dunno,” she replied.

“Jack… they called me… Jack,” the boy suddenly appeared carrying a stack of napkins and silverware.

“Where at, hun?” Piggle asked.

“On my way here… I didn’t really have a name… so the people I traveled with… nicknamed me… Jack,” he said with deliberateness.
“Why do you speak slowly like that?” John asked.

“I was at the bottom of the… Mediterranean… for 200 years… I’m still getting used to… breathing real… air,” he answered.

“Wow,” Riley muttered as she set the pot of stew on the table.

As they watched him go on his way, the members of the Resistance held a new respect for the child they knew as Jack, but was really the key to their victory.

Prologue
I can’t help but think of Auschwitz every time I look at these walls; especially when I look into the eyes of my fellow inmates. Although I was not there myself, many of my friends were there and at the time of the Holocaust I was spending my time in the Eastern Alps. But the reason I am reminded of Auschwitz is not simply because of the horrific conditions, the inspiration for the lovely design for Marko Romanis’ Moon based prison came from the hellhole itself and is named after one of its subcamp: Leslau.

Right now all is quiet in the barracks and the sky outside is dark. Then again… it’s always dark. Since Leslau is based on the Moon orbiting the planet Earth, which has no atmosphere of its own yet, is caught in a forever nighttime, we judge our days on the temperature. Most of the time it’s cold, but for three of the twenty-four hours that make up a day, the air gets even colder. The times when it gets colder than cold, around -150 ° Celsius I believe, is when we sleep. Or at least that’s when we’re supposed to sleep.

For those of us Magicks who can afford to go without sleep, we spend the coldest of cold hours strategizing, doing business, gossiping or simply thinking. That’s what I’m doing right now; thinking. It’s the best thing to keep you preoccupied when things around you are particularly nasty, thinking. Many of us are able to escape into our own minds as they force their work on us. Moving rocks, digging holes, building new sheds, repairing old ones, fixing whatever they throw at us; you name it, we do it.

As I lay on my crowded cot and only half-listen to the conversations above, below and on both sides of me, I feel my throat swell uncomfortable against the collar as I think of the green hills and blue oceans below us in my home land. I try to swallow and use a finger to adjust the horrible metal device placed around all of our necks to make the feeling pass, but my throat only bets worse.

‘Stop it. Not now. Not ever,’ I scolded myself, ‘You must never cry. One day… one day….’

After a few deep breaths that shredded my overused lungs with the icy razors that coated the air, the feeling finally released its grip on my throat. I used to cry a lot when I first came here, but then I had a vision of my mother, long ago lost to the burners on the other side of Leslau. She told me to not worry and that a group called the Resistance will free us all one day. She didn’t say when or how only that I’ll know beforehand when it happens.

The temperature on my skin warmed ever so slightly and the deep, dark shadow that shrouded us uncovered to reveal another shadow only a fraction lighter than before….

Another day in hell begins….

Ch. 1
“The line seems shorter than usual today, huh Enya?” Jerome, an American troll, commented as I stood in line.

I looked down into his earthy eyes and nodded, “It means we’re receiving another shipment,” I confirmed.

“I wonder if there’ll be any Americans… or even any trolls,” the young troll pondered scratching his tangled beard.

I smiled and ruffled his bird’s nest of hair, “You’ll just have to wait and see, Jerome.”

Ahead of me I saw the twins talking in their hushed Romanian voices so low that not even I could catch the gist of their conversation. The twins were Anastasia Johnson and Faylene Young, both incredibly gorgeous and married. Not to mention ancient… almost as ancient as me ancient. They were originally born in the 1970’s to InuYasha and Sora Shenron but had to go through a reverse aging stage in order to protect their charge, the reincarnation of the Greek Goddess-Muse Kyrie Crosby. Years ago they were captured, along with their husbands and children, and brought here to be watched over closely by Romanis himself.

A lot of the other prisoners joke that I could be a long lost sibling to the Shenron twins, the only problem being I’m much older than even their mother and father combined. Although I don’t look like it, naturally, I am 2151 years old and the last of my tribe. The last person to die from Aidan was my cousin Branden who was taken to the burners when his arms finally gave out on him seven months ago. At first I thought it was going to be like when the news hit me of another member of my tribe being taken away… but for some reason the tears refused to flow. As I stared up at the chimney dumping its contents into the giant glass bubble to be filtered and turned into breathable air, I felt hollow.

“Good morning, Enya,” Ronan said to me as he passed.

“Good morning, Ronan,” I responded, once again being ripped from my thoughts.

Like me, Ronan was an Irish Vampire, but unlike me, he wasn’t forced to do the bidding of Romanis’ men. Because he was able to bargain and reason without the aid of the Mesmer, Ronan had been able to climb his way up and become a guard. Instead of the freezing temperatures we were subsequent to, he lived in a cozy one room cabin and fed three times a day. Many of us other inmates envied him but kept on his good side just in case.

“Here’s an extra blood sausage from my breakfast. You know how we need more blood than the norm,” he slipped the wrapped piece of gold into my pocket.

“Thanks,” I murmured as my cheeks turned red.

I let my silver curtain of hair slide in front of my face to hide my chagrin. For some reason, ever since Ronan walked off the C. Pod and onto the surface of the moon, he had had his eye on me. Now that he held a position of power within the walls of Leslau, he frequently went out of his way to give me the best possible treatment. This of course, led to more jokes being passed around the barracks at my expense. After he noticed the red in my face, he smiled and walked away to take post by one of the buildings.

“Stand straight! Remove your shirt!” I was ordered.

Before every mean they make us stand straight as a board and remove our shirts to inspect us for any frost bite or sores and our shirts are combed over for any parasites and diseases. If you even have the smallest patch of frost growing on you or the most insignificant disease is detected on your shirt, you’re immediately carted off to the ovens. I stood straight and stared ahead at nothing in particular as I undid the buttons of my shirts.

My eyes automatically and unwillingly darted over to Ronan leaning against the wall of a barrack and saw a tiny smile on his face as my bare flesh was revealed. I forced my eyes to look ahead of me at a star peaking over the horizon as I waited for the inspection to be over. As usual, my shirt was returned and I quickly covered myself before taking my cup of soup and loaf of bread. The soup they give us is vegetable and it’s served to us in metal cups that come with lids. Most of the lids don’t completely cover the cups, some are too small while others are too small and still others are warped from overuse, but today I was lucky enough to receive one that snapped securely to my cup.

After taking a tiny sip of the soup to warm me a little, I slipped it and the bread into my pocket for safe keeping. As I passed Ronan on my way to the job board to hunt down my number and job for the next 21 hours, I saw a full out smile on his face and a twinkle in his icy blue eyes.

“Did you enjoy the show?” I asked in a sarcastic tone.

“Possibly,” he replied.

“Too bad it’s only a once a day gig,” I said.

“I’d be happy to make it a twice a day thing,” he said in a low voice.

“Play your cards right,” I said looking him up and down, “we’ll see.”

And so was the normal morning routine. A greeting from Ronan, followed by the inspection, and then the witty banter. Throughout the day I saw him far off but not so far off or well hidden that I didn’t miss his presence. This fine day I was chosen to put new roofing on one of the new wings of the hospital. Below me I saw him standing there as I hammered away at the tin. Beside me Angus Young set the pieces in place and held them there as I inserted the nails and brought the hammer down to secure the nail with a single blow.

“After centuries of innovation and millions spent each year to develop new materials you’d think they would put some of it to good use instead of making us sleep under tin,” he said to me.

“Man is certainly not a species who likes to change their routine,” I smiled, “Trust me.”

Ch. 2
After the roofing was done on the new wing, we were sent over to the small crater than acted like a resting hole as we waited for the next job. Some collapsed in a heap on the ground while others like myself sat one the ring of the crater and watched the new shipment of prisoners roll in. The oversized C. Pods flew in through the port above us and made their way over to the “sanitation house”. There they would be examined thoroughly and registered. Those considered too weak for work were put into the burners; those who were considered too dangerous to interact with the other prisoners were put into isolation, or like the twins partial isolation; and those who were fit as a fiddle were brought out here to join us in our fruitless efforts to please the President.

“I hear talk that Resistance is planning an uprising,” a voice I knew all too well said from beside me.

“Let’s hope they succeed this time,” I said without taking my eyes off the transport.

“You up for that next gig?” Ronan asked, I heard the smile in his voice.

“Don’t get your hopes up. You and I both know that there’s far too much work for that,” I smiled back at him.

“Tease,” he accused jokingly.

“Alright you little daemons, get off your asses and get a move on!” the shrill shout of one of Romanis’ SS guards hit us like a ton of bricks.

“See you later then,” I said with one last look into his icy blue eyes that seemed to glow in the reflection the thick layer of dust that covered the moons surface gave off.

After helping some of the weaker members of my work team out of the crater, we followed the guard to our next station. The events proceeding our transfer were the same as before. I hammered the nails into the tin as Angus held it in place; hold, insert nail, hammer, hold, insert nail, hammer, and rinse and repeat until your row was done. Every once in a while a gunshot would hit your ears and reverberate throughout your chest as you hoped that the poor soul who was shot wasn’t of your friends or family. Just as I finished off the last of our nails, a group of prisoners being led by some SS guards came around the corner.

“New meat,” I heard someone say.

You could tell they were freshly transferred into our lovely camp because A: they looked frightened out of their wits; B: their clothes were intact; and C: they lacked the fine sheen of lunar regolith that covered inhabitant of Leslau inside and out. I set my hammer down and took out my loaf of bread, about the size and thickness of a small paperback book, and ripped off a piece with my teeth. As I ignored the pain that came from the hard kernels of wheat cutting my mouth to shreds, I strained to listen to the conversation at hand below us. When I took a quick glance around I noticed many other doing the same, some not even finished with half of their row yet.

“We have a new transport of prisoners,” one of the guards reported.

“From where?” the other asked.

“America. I rebel group was found in the Rocky Mountains building weapons,” the first guard read.

‘Looks like Jerome got his wish,’ I thought as a mouthful of bread went down hard and hit my stomach with a thunk!

After coughing up a layer of regolith that coated my bread I laid back and looked up at the clear glass dome that separated us from the vacuum of space. High above the many buildings covering the area once known to astronomers and lunar scientists of the old times as Mare Frigoris, the Sea of Cold, I spied the sentries that scanned the area around us and used their thermo imaging cameras to keep track of our heat signatures. No doubt the inmates showed up a frigid shade of blue while the SS were a toasty red.

“Get back to work you daemons!” one of the guards looked up and noticed the lack of hammering on our behalf.

Without hesitation he drew his pitol and fired a round at the tin roofing causing a shower of sparks to spray us, setting some on fire and causing others to fall off the roof. Below us the new peisoners jumped as if he were shooting at them and cowered in fear.

‘There’s no way these cowards could be building weapons,’ I thought suspiciously.

I then realized that it was yet another case of the SS exagerating the charges in order to send them our way. After brushing some of the slag left behind from the molten metal shower, I picked up my hammer and began heling to repair the now rather large hole in the roof we were building.
“I feel sorry for the poor bastards they just brought in,” Angus whispered as he held a fresh piece of tin in place.

“Me too, Ang,” I said, “Me too.”

Ch. 3
“When imma walkin I strut my stuff and I am so strung out/I’m high as a kite and I just might stop to check you out/Lemme go oooon/Like a blister in the sun/Lemme go oooooon/Big hands I know you’re the one,” the Romanian voice of Anastasia Johnson hit my ears as I stood behind our barrack and smoked on of the cigarettes given to us.

Long ago in the days before Romanis’ tyranny, the UESC outlawed tobacco, leaving many nicotine addicted citizens to revolt and produce their own cigarettes much like the 1920’s American Prohibition on alcohol. This prompted scientists to come up with an alternative, and to do so they thought of the early centuries before conventional cigarettes that held many toxins and nasties in order to preserve them. The first thing that came to mind was how the Native American used tobacco for medicinal purposes and after many studies, they found that the burning of smoked and dried out tobacco was actually beneficial to ones health. So they marketed the “new” tobacco cigarettes that you rolled yourself in biodegradable paper.

But why stop there? They thought. So after many more tests and studies and experiments, they discovered that you could dry out and smoke just about any herb to extract the many different medicinal properties. And once the bill allowing geneticists to break down the genome of plants and animals, much to the dismay of PETA and other tree huggers, they were able to further the medication released into the systems by smoking the different herbs. For example, smoking a cigarette made of thyme will amplify the herb’s ability to heal and sooth a cough or even bronchitis.

A miracle!!! They proclaimed, Revolutionary!!! A way to not only soothe the angry cries of the nicotine addicts but shoot a major dose of adrenaline into the medical community. Soon they were coming out with new medicines by doing what the original tobacco companies did and thought way back to the olden days. Soon they had new and improved antibiotics, stronger painkillers that didn’t cause the user to become dependent and new machines that were able to kill off tumors or seal an internal wound without having to make an incision.

“Who sang that song again?” Anna’s twin asked.

“Violent Femmes,” she laughed. “You should know. We toured with them.”

“Let’s keep it that way,” Faye said.

Anna stuck her delicate pink tongue out between her full, red lips and Faye retorted by baring her razor sharp fangs. I allowed a small smile as I stubbed out the spent cigarette on the wall behind me before I walked through the trash heap that surrounded the barracks to make my way back to the crater. Even though it was supposed to be lights out, many restless prisoners still roamed the grounds careful not to be caught by the SS. If one of the guards were to catch you and you didn’t have enough to pay them off with or they were in a mood for blood splattering, you were a goner.

As I walked the collar around my neck gave a hum and a squeeze, something that happens quite frequently but is easily ignored, out of habit I stuck a finger between the metal and my neck to ease the tension. The collars were designed by a scientist to keep the animals Romanis had trained for searching out Magicks in line and constantly obedient. Then an SS guard had the wonderful idea to place the collars around the prisoners’ necks to keep them in line. With a sigh I vowed to personally kill the one to come up with that brilliant notion.

Then something went wrong…. The usual low hum of voices that was the connection I had with all the prisoners in the back of my mind was suddenly silent. I stopped in my tracks and looked around but nothing could be seen for miles except trash cast aside in steaming heaps until the incinerator was finished. Carefully so as not to alert anyone to my location, I made my way up one of the piles to see above the sea of trash. Once I could make out the entire camp, I saw everything was quiet… it was like no one was there.

“Hello?” I projected my internal voice across the camp, “Is anyone there? What’s happening?”

But no reply was returned. Feeling panicked, I tried to stand to my full height atop the pile of garbage but felt a pull at my arm before I could to do. I looked to see what my arm was caught on only to look into ice.

“Ronan,” I whispered in relief, “What’s going on?”

“The Romans finally got their Blocker up and running. Everyone else is asleep,” he explained in a hushed tone, “Come on down before a Sentry sees us.”

He held my wrist as we descended and continued to hold it as he guided me through the maze towards his cabin. Once we were safely inside and the door was locked we stood in the entryway to his cabin, his hand still wrapped around my wrist. After a few tense moments, he released his grip on me seemingly hesitantly and afterwards my skin felt icy cold without his warm touch to warm it. It was only then that I realized the situation I was in. Secured in a guard’s cabin all alone; even if the guard was of the same species as me, he was a guard all the same. Although we exchanged friendly talk and witty banter day after day, I still felt he was unable to be trusted for he was too close to the SS Guards for comfort.

I slowly and deliberately made my way to an opposite wall and sat on the floor, not really feeling the warmth from the heater, to think… a real heater. One of his dark eyebrows rose at my careful actions and my never taking my eyes off him.

“You don’t have to be afraid you know,” he said walking over to me.

“You’re one of them,” I said simply.

“No, I’m one of you,” he said pulling the long shirt sleeve from his left arm to reveal the number imprinted onto his skin like the rest of us.

I saw the number clearly and instantly had it memorized. 171568. Despite his trustworthy attitude and the pleading look in his eyes, I still felt wary. With a groan of frustration, he kneeled by me and took my face in his hands.

“Look, you and I are the only Irish Vampires left here in Leslau, the last batch of Incineraries held about six of them. I checked the records over and over again,” he said, “There are only two Vampires left that are of the Irish species. And they’re both in this room right now. You know firsthand how close we stick together in tribes, but now that both of our tribes are gone, we need to stick together. I may be a guard, but I’ll be damned to the deepest pit of hell before I give either of us up.”

Okay I admit it, as much as I’d liked to have stayed true to my notion, this speech of his got to me. It wasn’t just words that burned me though; it was his eyes connected to mine and his hands clasping my face securely. He really meant it.

“Let me see your arm,” I said finally.

He removed his hands from my face, once again my skin felt frozen after his touch left me, and held out his arm. I gently took his arm and pulled the sleeve away from the number once more and examined the numbers.

“171568,” I said with a sigh, “You’re a powerful man, Ronan.”

“How so?” he asked.

“My people created the very first numerological chart. The numbers are separated into three different aspects of your personality,” I explained.

“Go on,” he urged sitting on the floor.

“17. It is broken down into 1 and 7. One stands for the individual, and seven stands for thought or consciousness. So you are very self aware of not only your surroundings but of yourself and how you stand in the eyes of others,” I continued.

I let one finger trace over the 17 to highlight it.

“15. This is broken into 1 and 5. Again, one means the individual while the five stands for action this time. You’re anxious about the situation you’re in and you want to do something about it,” I said tracing the 15.

Ronan squirmed slightly in his spot on the soft rug we were on.

“And finally 68. The six means responsibility and the eight for power. You hold a great responsibility and that comes with power. The power to oppress, the power to change,” I concluded as my finger traced over the 68.

“Huh,” he said.

“All in all, you’re very powerful, and although you don’t know what you must do to begin the change, you’re anxious to so something and will be more than ready to participate in the change if not lead it,” I said.

“What does yours mean?” he asked without removing his arm from my grip and taking my numbered arm with his other hand.

“170258. The 17 is like yours, I am very self aware. The 0 and the 2 stands for complete balance and harmony between myself and other. And the 58 means I have power and am anxious to use it,” I explained.

“I guess it’s true what they say,” he said more to himself, “The Irish are a very significant part of life.”

the ending to that last chapter sucked hard so i changed it

After a few more tense moments, we released each other and he pulled me to my feet.

“We’d better get goin’. The day is almost upon us,” he said.

“Shall we?” I offered my arm.

“We shall,” he said taking my hand instead and leading me outside into the dark cold of the Mare Frigoris.

Originally posted by AC/DC'S_LVR
Prologue

Konstantine looked over the bridge into the murky waters below. The wind was cold, and the sky was gloomy overhead of him. Even though Romanis had promised better living situations for people in the slums, like he’d promised a lot of other things, the “Wolves” just stood around kicking people around. Konstantine was lost deep into his own thoughts when she came up behind him. Dressed in a long, black leather coat and an old-fashioned “newsboy” cap, Kyrie didn’t look like what she really was.
“Hello there Konstantine,” she said in the same cool, mellow voice that she had contacted him in, “Didn’t really think you believed me,” she smiled, her teeth somehow gleaming in the non-sunlit day.
“At first I didn’t, but after thinking about it, I thought ‘What the hell? We’re all gonna die anyway’,” he replied, “And please, call me Kosta.”
“Like on KMC?” Kyrie asked, smiling again.
“Trust me,” he said, “It’s a lot easier for people to remember.”
“I don’t really have a problem with memory,” she winked from behind her dark shades.
“Whatever floats your boat,” he shrugged.
“We’d better leave now,” she said, suddenly serious, “They’re coming.”
“Okay,” Kosta said, a little shaken at the sudden change in mood, “By the way, what was your name again?”
“I know, it’s hard as hell to pronounce huh?” she said as she started walking, “It’s Kyrie, but just call me Kay.”
* * *
“Sir, they’re gone,” said a Wolf.
President Marko Romanis looked at the werewolf soldier with disgust.
“And what do you mean by that?” he said, his voice dripping in as much distaste as he could manage into such a short sentence.

“Well…uh-uh…you see sir…,” the young Wolf stammered.
“You had better find them… and soon,” Romanis snarled.
“Y-y-yes sir!” the Wolf got out before he ran off.
Even in his human for, you could almost see his wolfy tail between his skinny legs. The thought of this almost brought a smile to the Presidents face… almost.
Marko Romanis was elected the 11th President of the United Earth Sphere Coalition, UESC for short, over 300 years ago. After the French Wars of 2575, the World decided to live in peace, forming the Coalition was the first step in the new UESC’s plan for peace. This plan included the Declaration of Peace, which helped to name a leader to the UESC, stated that everyone was to live freely, magick or not. The previous ten Presidents upheld that law, but after the election of Senator/Representative of Russia, Marko Romanis, suddenly camps for Magicks sprung up all over the globe. Then, every Magick was assigned a number that was tattooed onto the back of their necks, and they had to live in specially closed off neighborhoods, separated from the rest of civilization.
This went on for 150 years, until a small group of Resistors plotted the takedown of Romanis. This Resistance was made of both Mortals and Magicks of all species and origins. The plan was simple, get into Romanis’ mansion and takes him out. But before they could go through with it, they were caught by Romanis’ Secret Police, the Wolves. The children were separated from their parents and everyone was put into a high security prison for life.
But one person escaped before they locked the door, and now she was forming a new Resistance in order to break the others out and to help with the new plan….
* * *
Kyrie and Konstantine looked out from the building they hid in, down below, Romanis stood by as his Wolves searched every nook and cranny of the park. Kosta fumbled in his pockets for the detonator, once it was in his hand, he pressed the button, and the building next to them exploded.
“We need to meet up with the others,” she said finally.
“How many are there?” he asked.
“A lot; most of the OTF regulars, and Itzak,” she said.
“Ladies first,” Kosta said.

Originally posted by AC/DC'S_LVR
Ch. 1
“This is it?” Kosta asked when they approached a rundown warehouse in the middle of the Arctic Tundra.
“Not what you expected, huh?” Kay said as she took out a large ring of keys, “Don’t worry, it gets better inside. See this place used to be one of Romanis’ old prisons for traitors; he abandoned it once he colonized the moon and had a newer, bigger one built.”
“Is that where the rest of the original Resistance is?” Kosta asked, shivering in the cold, Arctic wind.
“Yes,” she simply said.
The door opened to pitch blackness, inside, he could hear things moving around and smell something dead. But at least it felt warmer than out in the open elements.
“Like I said, once we get in, it’ll get better,” she winked.
They stepped in and Kay led him to an old service elevator. By the looks of it, the thing hadn’t run in a few decades. But Kay stepped in anyway.
“Umm…. Is that thing safe?” he asked.
“Of course,” she said with innocence, “would I lie?”
Still a little unsure, he stepped through the rusted door and stood in a far corner, grasping the rail for dear life. Once the doors closed, she entered a code on the button pad and inserted a card, and then they took off. They moved so fast, Kosta didn’t really know which direction they were going in. At long last, they stopped, the car suddenly jerked and the lights went out. When the doors opened, a loud cacophony of voices hit Kosta in the face.
“Hey Kay! Did you bring my smokes?” someone very loud and very smart sounding called.
“The Grey Fox, he won’t tell me his name so just call him Grey,” she whispered, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I got ‘em. Pass ‘em around to everyone. Hey! And take ONE pack, there’s plenty more in storage now.”
“Whatever,” Grey said, rolling his eyes behind glasses.
“Okay then, I know it sounds loud, but that’s just because of acoustics,” she said as they walked down a long hallway, “Right here’s a map of the place, this is Level One, and the bottom is Level 100.”
“One hundred levels? Romains is as crazy as they say, huh?” he said.
“I said the exact same thing when I first came here,” someone said from behind them, “Hey there. Names Mike, also known as ~Wålshy~?”
“Wow! Cool to finally meet you, man,” Kosta said shaking his hand.
“Mike, how about you show him around? I need to check on the Techies,” Kay asked.
“Sure, just headed down to storage anyway,” Mike said.
“Thanks dude,” she said and she walked back over to the elevator, “Oh! I almost forgot!” she yelled halfway down the hall. Then a card came flying towards them, Kosta caught it with ease, “It’s the key to your room! See ya!”

Originally posted by AC/DC'S_LVR
Ch. 2
Over 400,000 kilometers away, in a special wing of Romanis’ M.I (Magick Imprisonment) building, a small vampire watched the monitor in front of her. The look on her angelic face told most of her story. Anastasia was a Romanian Vampire, the most ancient of the vampire species, her great-great-great grandmother and grandfather were the first vampires in existence, the Draculas. She was born over 1500 years ago in Romania but now, at the age of 1529, she was forced to watch Romanis’ ugly mug repeat over and over again, the Order.
She’d already broken two televisions this week, and was very close to smashing this one as well. But her sister, who was one room away from her, advised her otherwise.
“You know that they’ll just lock you up again,” Faylene said mentally.
“Exactly, it’s my chance to finally get the **** out of here,” she replied, a fierce snarl colored her Transylvanian accent.
“Kyrie will get us, Anna, don’t worry,” her husband, Brian said from beside her.
Anna looked into his Cobalt blue eyes and nodded, then she returned her gaze to the screen. Not only were Anna and Faye (Faylene) Kay’s best friends, but they were employed as her bodyguards by the Gods and Goddess, wherever they may be now. Kay and her husband, Sidney, were both the reincarnations of Kalista and Santos, Apollo’s daughter and son-in-law, when they were born, Apollo and Eutepre, the Muse of Lyrical Poetry, visited Anna and Faye and told them their story.
After knowing Kyrie for almost 1500 years, this was the first time they’d been separated for a long period of time. Interrupting Anna’s thoughts, the monitor shut down and the Warden walked through the door.
“I didn’t do it this time, I swear,” she said.
“Time for your session,” he snarled at the scent of two vampires.
“Not so rough big boy,” said the voice of her twin.
“My arm isn’t meant to bend that way,” said Faye’s husband, Angus.
Two more Wolves came onto the small room and cuffed them.
* * *
Back in the headquarters, Kay entered the Techie room, a dark space in the corner of a very large room filled to the brim with wires and computers.
“Hey there, Glenn. How’s the tracking system going?” she asked when she disentangled herself from the wires that ‘guarded’ the entrance.
A large white and brown goat looked up from his work.
“Almost got it,” Glenn said.
Known as Scythe online, Kay was thoroughly surprised when he turned out to really be a goat.
“My parents were cursed before I was born,” he had explained.
Now, he and Grey led the Resistance’s Technical Squad and were currently working on implanting trackers into the Resistance members to make it easier to keep track of the ever growing group.
“What happened to Tim?” Grey called from his station.
“Right here!” Timothy (a.k.a. Lord Knightfa11) called from beneath a stack of wires.
“What the hell are you doing?” Röland asked.

“Well, I was going through these to find wire for the monitors, and I got stuck, so I just stayed here and decided to take a nap,” he said.

“Mind helping him out?” Röland asked.

“Of course,” Kay said, she walked over to the pile and reached through the wires to fish out Tim.

“Damn, I wish I had that power,” Tim said, picking up a smaller pile of wires he found.

“Well, until then, be careful,” she said, “Here, I got yn’s this.”

She pulled out four small packages and gave them each one.

“You’re a ****in’ angel, Kay,” Grey said.

“I try,” she said, shrugging, “Later guys!”

“Hunting?” Glenn guessed.

“Yep! There’s a small heard of elk in the area. Gotta get goin’ while the goin’s good,” she laughed.

Originally posted by AC/DC'S_LVR
Ch. 3
Back on the moon, deep below its surface, a facility held the Children of the Resistance. They were forced to sit through a school designed to brainwash them, or make them go insane, they still weren’t really sure at this point. Everyday, they woke up at 5:00 am to have a “P.E.” period, then came a measly breakfast of all vegetarian safely prepared foods. Finally, they were put through lessons that lasted through the rest of the day. All of this was carried out with collars fastened around their necks that not only kept track of them but to negate their powers, both natural and supernatural. The worst part of their captivity, none of them were allowed their proper diet; blood.

Every Resistance Child was a vampire, and in order to “purge” them from their magic, they were to live without not only away from their magic, but the thing that sustained their lives. The younger ones were on their last legs of sanity; it was their brothers and sisters that kept them going. Kay and Sidney’s children were different from the rest, but they still felt the effects of living without blood. Their eyes shone, blacker than the deepest reaches of space, and every look they gave to their captors was full of malcontent.

But they didn’t go through their daily lives with compliance. Every moment, they planned their escape from this personal hell. Although it seemed impossible to do so, they were able to communicate telepathically. And so, instead of listening to the “history” of President Marko Romanis’ they continuously contemplated their escape. And since Kay’s children never slept, they were always thinking, planning, plotting….

* * *

Although the winds swirled around her at -25 degrees Celsius, Kyrie didn’t feel the chill that a normal person should, go through her very core. Instead of feeling the cold, she observed the elk as they stamped their hooves into the ground in order to uncover the grass that lay beneath. As she did so, she was simultaneously listening to both what was happening in the Headquarters and what was going down in the town closest to them.

‘In other news,’ a reporter was saying, ‘President Romanis’ plans to expand his empire into the far reaches of Earth’s poles start tomorrow.’

‘Hey Riley! What the hell is this stuff?!?!’ Tim was yelling.

‘Lasagna! You’ll eat it and like it!!!’ Riley, a.k.a. Morning_Glory, yelled back.

‘And if I don’t?’ Tim asked.

‘Then you don’t get any cupcakes later,’ she said with finality.

Tim ate his meal, grumbling about getting caught in the wires and having to eat strange foods. Kay chuckled to herself and went back to concentrating on her next meal. One of the bigger bulls broke away from the group and started grazing a few yards away.

‘NOW!’ her instincts told her.

She took off faster than lighting, feeling the chilly wind blow through her hair, doing one of the things she was meant to do: run! The bull elk didn’t hear a thing, another advantage to her design, when Kay ran up next to him and sank her teeth, gleaming with venom, into his throat. After the bull started to feel the burn of her venom as it coursed through its veins, he started to buck, attempting to throw her off. This only caused the poison to work faster… now it flowed through his system as fast as the blood gushed from his wound and into Kay’s mouth.

When the animal was completely drained, she let it drop to the frozen ground and headed back to the warehouse to join her new team.

Originally posted by AC/DC'S_LVR
Ch. 4
“AAAAAAAND AGAIN!!!” Mike shouted into an old megaphone.

The Resistance members kicked to their left, punched to their right and ducked down before freezing.

“All right everyone, I think you’ve had enough,” Michelle, Ms Chelle, said into the megaphone.

The groans of joy and pain greeted them as they limped off to receive dinner. It was now three weeks since the Resistances spies were dispersed out into various cities. Their leader, John, a.k.a. Rogue Jedi, was positioned at the UESC building in Paris, France, or at least what used to be Paris.

After the French Wars ended, the citizens of France blocked off the rest of the world, so when Romanis came to office, he saw fit that all of France, particularly its capitol city, became his home base of operations.

“Hey Johnny, how’s things goin’ so far?” she said into a communicator.

“So far, very boring. It’s the same ol’ song and dance everyday,” said John’s voice into her ear.

“Just keep your eyes peeled. You never know what this guy has planned next,” she said.

“Besides the expansion?”

“Exactly,” she said.

“Alright, I’m out, gotta tag these cars,” John said.

“Later Johnny,” she switched to another channel, “Yo Colin! How’s it goin’ man?”

“Sweet babe just got Vin and Barker. They don’t seem too happy on working together but they say that as long as it’s to take down the Supreme Bastard, they’re all for it,” Colin, or Quincy to the KMC network, said.

“‘Supreme Bastard’?” she laughed, “How long did it take you for that one?”

“The entire time I waited for these two,” he laughed.

“It rocks,” she said, “So then, hypothetical high-five!”

“Booya!” they said together a second later.

“Peace out, home-skillet,” she said.

“Later,” he said, and she could almost see the salute he gave her from 300 miles away.

“Did I hear right? Are Vinny and Barker on their way?” Ken, the.kenzo, asked.

“You got it,” she said.

Ken laughed, “This’ll be great!!”

* * *

In the prison, Anna and Brian sat through another session of ‘brainwashing’. The face of Romanis was shown talking in a monotone about how his reign has improved the Earth. The images slowly faded back and forth between Romanis and shots of his efforts to eradicate Magicks and the ‘harm’ they caused to everyday people.

“You know honey, I think they finally got me,” Anna said, plopping her head onto the table.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Brian put a hand on her shoulder, but an electric current that ran through the suits they wore in order to negate their powers caused him to move his hand.

She looked up at him through the curtain of silver hair that spread across the table. She picked up her head and looked over her shoulder at the guards that that stood outside the door. Then she turned and blew a short burst of air at his hand. The air current that flowed through the space between them cooled and healed the small burn.
“Better be careful with that or they’ll lock you up for sure sis,” Faye’s internal voice said from the other room.

“Meh,” she shrugged, “I’m kinda hopin’ for it. Getting away from this shit is good every now and then.”

“And the torture they put you through is worth it?” Angus asked skeptically.

“Anything’s better than having to watch another second of this,” Brian said with distaste.

“What the sexy one said,” Anna said.

“I tend to disagree sis,” Faye said.

“You would,” she retaliated.

* * *

Below them, the Children had finally decided to act on their plan….

The oldest, Brandon, Anastasia and Brian’s son, was being prepped to transfer to a more secure section of the facility. He lay strapped to a gurney, being the most powerful of the Children of the Resistance; he was condemned to stay strapped to the gurney as long as he was a minor.

This transfer was to be the last until he was finally transferred to be with his parents. But this time was different because he was going to finally spring his siblings and friends. As the orderlies slowly undid the IV tubes from the machines, he focused his mental strength in order to take over the body of one of the burly Wolves outside.

When he had successfully entered the body of a Wolf, he busted through the door and took out the orderlies, one at a time. Then he took his real body out into the hall and ran for it. After freeing his real body, Brandon transferred back to his own body and set off to free the others. In no time, they were looking over the Moon, on a crash course for Earth.

Brandon looked out the window, quieter than ever….

‘Mom… Dad… don’t worry, we’ll be back for you…. Soon.’

Originally posted by AC/DC'S_LVR
Ch. 5

“God damn you Barker! The M-56-A is way more powerful than the AKP-815,” Vinny was shouting as Colin pulled the truck into the loading bay behind the warehouse.

“They’ve been at it for the past hour and a half. Please… shut them up,” he begged Mike as he navigated the truck.

“Don’t worry, the next drill is in an hour,” Mike said when he grabbed onto the truck.

“Hey Colin! These two givin’ you trouble?” Kay asked as she closed the door behind the truck.

Colin hopped out of the truck cap and unlocked the back to reveal two men slapping’ each other amongst a sea of guns and ammo.

“Well, at least they haven’t shot each other,” Kay said.

“Yet,” Tim said as he climbed aboard to give them both a shot in the arm.

“Ow! What the **** is that?!” Barker yelled.

“A tracker. There are a lot of us here so we need to keep track of everyone,” Tim explained.

“It monitors your heart rate, blood pressure, magick levels and brain activity,” said Glenn from beside a stack of boxes.

Vinny and Barker looked at the goat with raised eyebrows, but quickly turned their attention to their hoard of weaponry. Slowly, they packed up the guns that were displayed across a table built into the truck before being led down to the main area of the complex.

“This should be interesting,” Riley was saying to Piggle as they took boxes of food supplies down to the kitchen and storage area.

Just as Piggle passed by a group of people sorting through med supplies, Ken reached out and grabbed Piggle.

“Ken quit it!” she giggled, “I’m carrying glass!”

“Alright people let’s get this stuff down to storage! Tomorrow there’s gonna be a meeting to brief yn’s guys about our mission,” Kay said, “So hit the hay as soon as everything’s catalogued.”

* * *

“C’mon Sean why can’t we eat?” little Kyra complained.

They had just landed off the shore of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania and were now scoping the area for possible meal ideas.

“We need to see if there are any humans in the vicinity,” Kyra’s older brother, Sean, said, “We don’t want to have any humans succumb to the hands of a pack of hungry vampires, now do we?”

“Because we-,” Kiriel, the middle child began.

“Never kill the innocent. Yeah, I know,” Kyra finished.

Sean, Kiriel, and Kyra were the three children of Kay and Sidney, in the forest, Faye and Angus’ twin boys, Ronald and Jonathan, unloaded the supplies from the C.Pod (Capsule Pod). Farther into the forest, the rest of the Children, Anastasia and Brian’s children were setting up camp. Brandon and Brendon gathered firewood from the surrounding area while setting up a perimeter. Morgan, Amelia, and Angela were setting up the boys and girls tents while their brothers worked close by.

“Okay, I don’t think that there’s anyone out there. We checked the entire shore line for ten miles in each direction and the most we found were some scrap metal from dig sites,” Kiriel said when they hopped over the seven foot tall wall of thorny bushes and branches.

“Good job. Once Ron and John come back, we can eat,” Brendon said.

“Why don’t you start up the fire?” Brandon asked.

“Umm-okay. Where’s the wood?” she asked.

“Here’s some,” he said, handing her a large log.

“Th-thanks,” Kiriel said going off to the center of their little clearing.

That night, they had their first real meal in over three years; naturally, Ron and John ate the most and ended up passing out as soon as they were carded off to their beds. Kiriel stayed outside though, not needing sleep she volunteered to be the first one on watch. Most of the time she remembered the last time she saw her parents….

* * *
It was a hot summer’s day out in a dessert, maybe the Mojave or something like that. They had just raided a ghost town for the last of its supplies, it was small and completely abandoned, not even animals had stuck around to try and make a living from what was left. Ron and John were only five then, and their Vampire teeth were starting to come in. As much as she’d like to not blame their crying, she couldn’t help but do so. For it was the dead of night, they had just set up a camp, not unlike the one the Children had set up, and John woke up with his teeth aching. Overhead, a sentry flew past with its lights and it spotted a ripple the Invisibility Shield made in the air.

Wolves in all shapes and sizes sprung forth to capture them all and load them into cages. But before they could lock up Kay’s cage, she leaped at the Wolf that carried her and ran to try and break the others loose.

“Kyrie, don’t!” Sidney said when she reached his cage.

“Run! Forget about us!” Sean called from way in the back of the AirShip.

“I’ll be back for you…. I promise…,” she said to her husband before giving him one last kiss and running off into the frigid dessert night.

Originally posted by AC/DC'S_LVR
Ch. 6
Marko Romanis walked into the meeting room full of officials from all over the Globe and the newly colonized Moon. Once a week now, they had to meet in a secure location to discuss the matters of not only about their designated domain but how to destroy the Resistance once and for all. Usually, Romanis was never in a very good mood, but today his mood was even worse due to the escape of the Children of the Resistance.

“Mr. President, I have debriefed the rest of the board members on the current situation with the Resistance, they are now waiting for your orders,” Mr. Reese said.

“We must find the Children before they reach that accursed woman who escaped from us three years ago,” Romanis said as soon as he sat in his chair.

On a Holoscreen in the middle of the table, it showed the faces of the Children and Kyrie. Kay’s picture blinked a couple of times and switched over to a full 3-D replica of the footage from her escape alongside a full size picture of her. Romanis watched this footage with his usual distasteful look in his flat black eyes.

“The C.Pod that the Children escaped in had a homing device, unfortunately for us, the little brats are intelligent enough to know how to not only navigate but deactivate the C.Pod’s navigation system,” a man from Central Intelligence said.

“Why would they do that?” asked the Chinese Diplomat.

“Because the navigations system is connected to the homing device. In order to deactivate the homing device, you must destroy the navigations system,” the C.I. man explained.

“So they crash landed?” the other man asked.

“No,” Romanis said, “They landed perfectly, wherever they wanted to land. They’re parents would have taught them much better than to destroy the navigations system of a blind craft unless they knew how to fly it. No… they’re alive, and they’re waiting for us.”

* * *

At headquarters, the Resistance was receiving the news about the Children escaping. They were all sitting down to have lunch when the Holoscreen displayed the leaked footage of Brandon overtaking the Wolves and running off to free the rest. When Kay saw this, she immediately left the room, at a near run; she didn’t stop until she hit the outside. The Arctic winds hit her face clearing her thoughts and calming down her system.

“Mom?” a voice said from behind her.

She whipped around, for the first time in about one hundred years; she was both surprised and scared. Standing only a few yards away from her were her children. Not just the Children of the Resistance, a formidable foe to the reign of Marko Romanis, but her own children. They smiled and ran at her, all three of them engulfing her in their arms, harder than steel and diamond put together.

“My babies,” she nearly sobbed, “I can’t believe you actually escaped from that hell.”

“It was all Brandon,” Kiriel said.

“Oh, Kiriel, you look just like me. Like I look like my mom did,” she chuckled.

“We missed you mom,” Kyra said.

“Little Kyra, look how you grew,” she said.

“The rest are on their way,” Sean said, “And also… I love you.”

“Wow. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were your father,” Kay said to her oldest, “We should get inside. Where are the others?”

“Another mile behind us,” Kyra said shamefully, “We were kinda anxious to see you.”

“Hey Kay are you feelin’…,” Roger started when he poked out from the doorway, “Are these-?”

Kay simply nodded, knowing his question before he finished. Then a noise from behind her caught her attention.

“Go inside, kids,” she said.

“Mom, it’s just the rest of the Children,” Kiriel said.

“Still, go inside,” she said, “Your eyes are dark, so head straight for the freezer and warm yourselves up some Mountain Lion. I’ll help the others.”

Originally posted by AC/DC'S_LVR
Ch. 8

“Okay, I think this is the address,” Bruce said when they reached a broken building.

“Why would Alex wanna hide in there?” Roland asked.

“Like Romanis would look in his own backyard,” Sean said, “Besides, it’s a perfect position to keep a lookout on everything.”

“As long as he IS in there, otherwise, were gonna have to think of another way to the moon,” Roland said; he took out a tracker and followed the dot to behind the overgrown bushes that decorated the once beautiful Louvre.

“I remember coming here once when I was a kid,” Sean said, mostly to himself.

“So how old are you anyway, kid?” Bruce asked.

“995 years old,” he replied promptly, “in human years anyway. In vampire speak, I’m still only about 25.”

“Okay,” Roland said, stopping in front of what looked like an ordinary wall.

“What’s so special about this?” Bruce asked dubiously.

“It may look like a wall but really,” Roland felt the wall and pulled on a section of cloth that hung there: invisible, “It’s the entrance to Alex’s lair.”

“Stealth Cloth,” Sean said, admiring the silky smooth cloth, “This guy is a genius.”

“He used to work for Romanis, so he has to be. Also, you never know if his cheery disposition online was all a rouse to fool us and help Romanis get info on the Resistance,” Roland warned.

And so they descended into the depths of a mad-scientist.

* * *

“Sir- President Romanis,” Mr. Reese said one evening, “I think we have a problem.”

“What is it? Is it the Resistance?” Romanis asked, immediately jumping from his seat.

‘Patience my son,’ the voice said, ‘we mustn’t get too hasty.’

“No sir,” Reese said ashamed, “these are the latest brain scans from the captive Resistance members.”

He handed the President four charts that showed a colorful array of patterns and schemes. Romanis gawked at the sight, knowing at once what it meant.

“Has anyone outside the doctors covering them seen these?” he asked in a steely cold voice.

“No sir, I brought them straight here as soon as the scans were complete,” the small and balding man said.

“Good, keep it that way. Chart me a C.Pod to the prison,” he said, “I want to speak with the members.”

“Right away sir,” Reese said, running away from the cold stare that penetrated him, seeing straight to his soul.

* * *

“Easy there, dog,” Brian snarled, “I’m not as young as I used to be.”

The Wolf growled for a short second before the door opened to reveal Romanis, as usual, his eyes were blacker that a black hole. With a wave of a hand, he dismissed the guards from the room. Then he sat down before the Resistance’s strongest members.

“So then,” he began, his voice was like nails grating across a chalkboard, “You still have powers.”

They stared blankly at him, neither giving anything away nor saying they didn’t know what he was talking about. As neutral as the former nation of Switzerland.

‘Damn it Ang,’ Faye said mentally, ‘now I want some cheese.’

Anna couldn’t help but snicker.

“Is something funny, Leech?” Romanis leaned across the table and stared her in the eye.

“Only that thing you call a face,” she said with a cheery smile.

Now the others couldn’t help but smile and snicker. Romanis’ face puvkered up and he grabbed her by the hair and lifted her across the table, snapping the restraints that held her in place. Brian struggled against his but a Wolf shocked him in the back with a Shocker Wand.
“It’s this reason that your Children were separated from you, and now they’re gone. My Wolves are very close to finding them, and you know what?” he snapped, “The official orders are to terminate on site.”

The shock and awe was felt in the atmosphere, thicker than the smog over Pittsburgh in the 1800’s.

* * *
Finally, the thing in the Mediteranian awoke and made its way to the surface….

Originally posted by AC/DC'S_LVR
Ch. 9

“We got Alex, but he isn’t particularly happy,” Sean said when they parked the Stealth Vehicle.

“It doesn’t really matter if he’s happy or on a murderous rampage, as long as we got him and Romanis doesn’t even have an inkling as to our location, it’s all good,” Ksy said.

“Oh yeah, we also found someone who says she wants to help,” Bruce said.

“Okay, where is she?” Kay said.

“Hey there sis,” a voice from behind her said.

“Kylie?” she asked, confused.

“Never thought I’d see you again,” her sister, turned into an immortal after almost dying in a car accident, said.

Kay was speachless. The last time she saw her sister was over 50 years ago when they were first starting up the original Resistance. She had met a Wolf and ran off with his so he could escape the draft by Romanis. And now, here she was, still as young looking as the night of the accident….

“Woah!” Mike said as he got a good look at Kylie, “And who might you be miss?”

“Kylie, imulamusheen to you,” she said, she certainly had matured since the last time they were together.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you,” he said taking her hand and planting a soft kiss on the back of it.

“Go be suave after you’ve catalogued all the things coming in,” Kay said, “I need to catch up with my sister. Wow, fifty years….”

* * *

His hand broke the surface of the water, it groped around for the shoreline but only found a piece of driftwood. He used it to pull his head above the suface so his lungs could take in air. Shivering, the young boy kicked his feet towards the shore. Once there, he walked down the beach, trying to find his way, but his senses were muddled from the years spent in the salt water.

A Wolf approached him when he found a small fishing town along the beach.

“Halt there, boy!” the Werewolf shouted.

The boy just kept on walking, so the Wolf took out his gun and aimed it at the kid’s head.

“Are you deaf? I said halt!” he repeated.

The boy froze, after a few minutes of standing like that, the boy finally turned to face the Wolf, clad in a Romanis Army Uniform (RAU). The look in the boys eyes was calm, unlike that of any child that the Wolf had ever encountered. Usually, they were scared, and he liked it when people were scared of him, it got his adrenaline pumping through his veins.

“Where do you come from boy?” asked the Wolf, trying to instill fear.

This earned more calm looks from his unnaturally green eyes, partially covered in sea water-soaked hair.

“Can’t you speak neither?” then the Wolf crouched down to look thw boy in the eye, “I asked you a question, and it’s only polite to answer your commanding officer, boy.”

The Wolf’s trigger finger strted to get tingly, and he couldn’t help but pull back on the trigger. But only a click came when the trigger was fully pressed down.

‘Damn, I could have sworn I loaded this thing,’ the Wolf thought, ‘Maybe it’s just jammed.’

Then he looked at the boy again, and his eyes were glowing. That’s when the Wolf understood…. The kid was a Magick, and a savage one at that.

Quickly he reached for his Shock Wand, but one of the kids hands stooped him.

“What the-?” the Wolf began.
Then the other hand reached up to touch his forehead, and the touch was warm.

“Please, Father,” the boy said in a voice as warm as his touch, maybe warmer, “Take this corrupted soul into your arms. Forgive him Father. Amen.”

Then the warmth spread throughout the Werewolf’s body, and he strted to feel light, finally; a bright glow appeared above him, and it too was warm. The warmth filled him now, so he flew up towards the light, and into the arms of God.

* * *

“We have to get outta here, guys,” Angus said once they were placed back into their cells.

Faye struggled against her restraints in order to turn towards her love.

“How do you think Anna’s doing?” she asked.

“Doesn’t sound good to me, hun,” he replied, solemn now, “I haven’t been able to hear her since they took her away.”

“I think this one’s gonna be perminant guys,” came Anna’s breathless voice.

“Where are you?” Brian’s voice asked.

“In a white room. They’ve got me locked up good and tight,” she said, “And I agree with Ang. We need to get out of here.”

“How?” Brian asked.

“I finally found Kay,” a smile now played with her mental voice, “And she’s built a new Resistance.”

“What!?” all three voices asked.

“And even better,” an even bigger smile prominent, “She’s found the Children.”

Originally posted by AC/DC'S_LVR
Ch. 10

Romanis sat in his chair at the head of the UESC’s meeting table. Behind him, the landscape of the Moon reflected the lights from the compound and caused an eerie glow to illuminate his profile. This effect combined with that of the Earth’s edge appearing over the horizon, gave Romanis the appearance of a God.

He quietly listened to the reports of the happenings in his kingdom, happier than he had been since being elected into office. This was partly due to the fact that they had a possible area of location of the Resistance; another was finally signing the papers to lock up the silver-haired vampire, who could have ruined his entire plan.

Then, he suddenly felt a sharp pain go through his body. Romanis doubled over in his chair and let out a guttural noise that the Council Members took for a groan. A light danced in front of his eyes, then it grew brighter until it filled his vision. The light was followed by a voice, but it wasn’t the normal voice….

‘I’m coming,’ the voice said, it was child-like, but very calm, ‘Your reign is done, Romanis. Soon, you will be sent back to where you spawned from.’

‘Who are you?’ Romanis asked, ‘What the hell are you doing to me?’

‘Showing you the pain you’ve caused this planet,’ said the child’s voice.

Romanis groaned again, then he collapsed in a heap into the floor before the Medics could out him onto the stretcher and cart him off to the sick bay. Romanis’ eyes glowed red with the fury that built up inside him from being taken over by a child.

* * *
“How’re the C.Pods coming along?” Kay asked when she entered the launch hanger that was now over-run by C.Pods.

“Almost done,” replied the newly adjusted Alex.

It was now 6 weeks since the scout team brought Alex into the Resistance’s compound, and they had accomplished quite a lot in those short 6 weeks. It turned out that he had been trying to reach the Resistance for some time and he was unhappy when he first arrived because he had thought Romanis had finally found him.

Kylie and Mike had taken a liking to each other from the get-go and now they never left each other’s sights. Plus, Kay had finally made contact with her friends, and most importantly: Sidney. He was being held in a separate part of the Prison so that he wouldn’t ‘cause any trouble’, what with he being the New Resistance’s love. He was close to Romanis’ personal chambers and was able to hear all that went through the President’s mind.

“The guy’s nuts, babe!” he said when she first asked him about Romanis, “He has a voice inside him, that is constantly in control of his decisions. But yesterday, something took over him.”

“Could you hear what it was?” Kay asked.

“It was,” he began unsure of himself, “well… it was a child, Kyrie.”

“A child? Like one of ours?” she asked him.

“No, his voice was like none other I’ve heard in all my years,” he said, “They took him away to the sick bay after he collapsed, and you know the strangest part?”

“What?”

“His eyes glowed,” Sid said, “They were glowing bright, bloody red.”

* * *
“Okay everybody, today’s the day,” Kay began as she stood before the assembled teams, “Today, we rescue the Original Resistance. I know you all want to know why we must, but that explanation will have to wait for when we retrieve the others.

“They’re not only my best friends, they’re extremely important to this cause. Every one of yn’s guys were chosen due to your knowledge and ability in a certain field. So, you’ve been divided up into groups that will be focused on a specific point in the mission. Team A: Your job is the go in first and take out the guns. The twins are very powerful at generating shields so you must rely on them to keep you safe. Meanwhile, work quickly and carefully in taking out the guns and their other array of defenses.

“Thanks to our friend Alex, we now have a complete schematic and layout of their weapons. So he will lead Team B into the compound in order to completely disable their systems. It wont last forever, so Teams C, D, and E; you must work even faster to get inside and disperse to your assignments. Team C: you must go deactivate the prison’s system in order for Team D to go in and let Faylene, Angus and Brian loose. Brian will then meet up with Team E to retrieve Anastasia.

‘Team F will be led by me to get Sidney. We must enter from the Dark Side of the Moon and again… move fast. Glenn has done the math on this and we should be able to make it through the defense shields just as they seal back up. If we don’t, then we must go to the surface and tunnel in through the ground. That is why Vinny and Barker have equipped us with a Laser Drill and a few more weapons in case the Wolves attack.

“Does everyone understand their job?” Kay said, felling as if she had to catch her breath.
“YES!!!!” the New Resistance called out.

“I couldn’t hear you there. DO YOU… UNDERSTAND?!?!?” she shouted even louder.

“YES!!!!”came the reply.

Originally posted by AC/DC'S_LVR
Ch. 11
The boy looked up at the warehouse with curiosity burning in his green eyes. Up in the air, countless crafts flew upward and out of Earth’s atmosphere. Luckily for the boy, the front door was slightly ajar. Without hesitation, he went through the door and shut them tight. Above him, the last of the C.Pods flew through the closing roof hatch.

* * *
Romanis sat up in his hospital bed and the sterile smell of the sick bay hit his head like a rock. Immediately, the nurse and doctor who were waiting outside for him to wake rushed into the room and started to ask him questions about what had happened to him.

“Get out,” he said in a small voice.

“Sir?” the doctor asked.

“GET OUT NOW!” he shouted.

The nurse and doctor staggered backwards and ran from the room.

‘So you’re awake my son?’ the voice said.

“Whose voice was that earlier?” Romanis asked.

‘It was him,’ said the voice.

“What shall I do now, Father?” Romanis said looking around the room for his clothes.

‘The Resistance is attacking. You must stop them before they recover their friends.’

Without thinking twice, he sprung from the bed and left through the secret passage.

* * *


Alex struggled to remember the combination to the Control Room as they ran throughout the halls. It had been over a year now since he had been on the Moon and his memory was somewhat rusty. When they reached the door, the numbers suddenly came to him, and they were soon in the small, dark room.

“Okay, the shields are down,” Grey said into the communicator.

Outside, the rest of the C.Pods moved in while one lone pod flew off to the other side of the compound. Just as Glenn predicted, they made it in just before the shield closed back up. The guns on this side weren’t fully deactivated so they let out a shot in short bursts making them easy to dodge.

Inside the building, the rest of the teams were on the move to get to their assigned missions. In no time, Team C had the prison systems down and soon afterward, Anna, Brian, Angus and Faye were on their ways to the C.Pods. Meanwhile, Kay was working on the locks on Sid’s room as her team surveyed the area. As soon as the door was open, Kay rushed inside to greet her husband.

“Let’s save the reunion for later. Romanis is right next door,” he said.

“Hello there, AC/DC,” a cold voice said from behind them, “Having fun are we?”

Kay immediately knew who it was, but she put on the innocent routine as she freed Sidney.

“DA?” she said, still working the lock that bound his hand.

“Don’t **** with me *****,” said the Wolf at the door.

“I never did anything to you on a personal level,” she explained, “If you can’t handle another person’s point of view then so be it but you didn’t have to rat out half of KMC and run out on John to join Romanis.”

“Shut up!” DA shouted, “I’m sick of your ****ing mind games.”

“You know you really did hurt John,” Kay continued anyway, “You have no idea how long it took us to get him out of the little hidey hole he made for himself in his room.”

DA fired off a round that just missed her left ear.

“I don’t miss twice,” she warned.

“Shame you have to miss once,” Kay countered.

“You broke me,” she whispered, pearly white tears started to roll down her cheeks, “How would you feel if I said your husband has a fat ass?!”
“Well… he does actually, but it’s a major turn on,” Kay smiled.

Just then, John ran into the room. He looked from DA to Kay and Sid, then back again.

“DA?” he asked, “What the hell-?”

“Don’t play coy,” she said in a steely cold voice, “You sided with them after they insulted you. After I tried to defend you.”

“Babe, I let that drop,” he explained, “We had an agreement that it was over.”

“Really it was over before it even died. But alas, you had to bring it back to life like some… little kid obsessed with bringing his dead dog back to life,” Kay said.

DA turned and fired a shot at them but Sid and Kay were already at the door with John.

“And now fair wolfy-maiden, we bid you adieu,” Sid said before they ran off.

Halfway down the next corridor, RJ stopped them.

“We have to go back for her,” he shouted, trying to turn around but the two vampires held him in place and continued forward.

“Look, John…RJ, she isn’t the same woman who you were engaged to before,” Kay said.

“She’s turned against us, the person you knew before died when she left you,” Sid said, “You have no idea what they do to people here.”

“But-,” before RJ could finish, they reached the C.Pods.

* * *
Romanis watched the screen before him in as much disgust as his being would allow. Meanwhile, the voice of his Father crooned, attempting to soothe him.

“Bring me W-hIr-665, the subject known as DA,” Romanis said, “Bound.”

Originally posted by AC/DC'S_LVR
Ch. 12
The original Resistance members sat close to each other at their new round table, to make it easier to hear the 42 members of the Resistance. Next door, the boy sat on a bed as the meeting proceeded.

“Okay, okay, okay!!!! Everyone please!!!! Can we start the meeting?” Anastasia called out to attempt to quiet the loud, cacophony of noises.

“First order of business,” Sidney stood up in order to address the members, “The child. What does everyone think about him?”

“He might be one of Romanis’ droogs,” Tim spoke up.

“Well he doesn’t exactly fit the bill,” Riley said.

“And what ‘bill’ is that?” John asked.

“Well let’s see here-uh… a werewolf?” she pointed out.

“True,” Kosta said, “But that doesn’t automatically dismiss the fact that he could be with Romanis.”

“Here’s an idea guys,” Kay said, “How about we ask him? Sit him right in the middle of the table and judge him.”

A few minutes later, he was sitting in the center of the table. His dark skin shone strangely in the lights that were set into the room’s ceiling. The young boy’s eyes moved about the room, taking in all the people around him.

“Who are you?” Anastasia asked.

His focus snapped to her face, “I am the son; I have come from my place of rest to stop He who destroys this world.”

Everyone murmured to each other when he said this.

“Whose son are you?” Kyrie asked in a gentle voice.

The boy merely lifted his eyes towards the heavens. The member’s whispering and murmuring grew louder.

“That’ll be all,” Angus said, signaling for his sons to take the boy back to his room.

“I think we should hold off on the rest of this meeting until we decide a fate for the boy,” Michelle said.

“All in favor?” Brian said.

Most of the members raised their hands.

“All opposed?” he said.

Only the few that were left raised their hands.

“Okay, after dinner, we’ll meet back here and continue the long overdue explanation,” Sidney said.

* * *
“He can’t mean what I think he means can he?” Faye said when the original members reached an old interrogation room.

“I think he does,” Angus said sadly.

“If the son of the Christian God has returned, then it really means that Romanis is…,” Sid drifted off.

“This only means we have an even bigger motive to get our plan into action and destroy the President,” Kay said, taking her husbands hand.

They all met each others eyes and nodded.

“With this New Resistance, we’ll be able to right all the wrongs from the past 400 years,” Brian said.

“Maybe even…,” Anna pondered.

“I don’t think they’d go that far, sis,” Faye said, reading her twins mind.

“A chick can dream,” she said as they left one by one.

Originally posted by AC/DC'S_LVR
Ch. 13
Romanis walked slowly through his mansion in Paris, slightly dazed still from the ride back from the Moon. The voice of his father hadn’t quieted since he woke up in the sick bay; he was plotting, thinking, and ordering around the followers of Satan.

“We have to find them as soon as possible,” he repeated for the thousandth time, “Send out as many trackers and Wolves you can spare, have every scientist and communications expert on full alert. Once we find them, we need to quarantine them, I know you want to kill them as soon as they’re in captivity, but we must make an example of them….”

Romanis let him go on with his ramblings once he reached his room. There, he walked to the large bed in the center of the room. But when he passed the full length mirror that adorned one wall, he stopped immediately and stared at his reflection.

To his amazement, a line had formed on his brow. One single line now marked the perfect complexion that his eternal youth had granted him. For most people, this wouldn’t be a big deal, but for Marko Romanis, it was catastrophic; it meant that he was aging after being frozen in time for 10,000 years.

“Father, what could this mean?” he asked in a small voice.

“Our time is nigh,” said the King of Hell from very close by.

“Where are you?”

“Here,” a voice said from a chair next to him.

I the chair sat a small girl, her skin milky-white, hair a brilliant onyx, the only indication that she was not of this world was her eyes. They looked at the President with an authority that surpassed anything Romanis could muster; the dark red hue of the irises shone with an eerie light that seemed to come from within her very being.

“Father?” he asked slightly uncertain.

“Yes,” said the child, “It seems my powers were a little mixed up in the portal to here, putting me in this form,” the little girl that was Satan himself stood and stared at Romanis with a calculating look deep within those red eyes, “We must act fast if we’re going to have our plan come to fruition.”

“What do we need to do?” he asked.

Satan walked away from Romanis towards the fireplace, there He/She stared into the flames that danced in the small vicinity.

“We still need to find the Resistance,” He/She said finally after a few minutes.

“And of my aging?”

“Since you are immortal, it’s nothing we should really be concerned about,” said the small figure, “Perhaps you’re merely stressed from the recent events that have befallen us.”

Now his head was reeling from the language his Father used.

“I need to lie down,” he said, he walked slowly over to his grand bed.

“Do not worry my Son,” Satan said sitting beside Romanis on the bed, “When you wake up, we’ll sort through this mess.”

* * *
“Okay then! We decided that the kid can stay,” Sidney said when the Resistance settled back into their seats after a nice meal.

“Turns out… he’s the Son of God,” Angus said.

The room erupted into a cacophony of noises and shouts.

“People! People! I know it’s a lot to take in, but it’s true. There was a prophecy thousands of years ago that one day he’d return and this kid is it,” Faye said.

The voices quieted down for the moment as the Original members brought up the Computer in the middle of the round table to finish their meeting from before.

“Now then,” Kay began, she typed in a few commands and the gas screen switched to a plain white view, “Many of you have heard the rumors that KMC was really a recruiting site. Well it’s true.”

“But I thought recruitment sites had a special code hidden in them,” Sol said.

“It does,” Anna said, “look….”

Kyrie typed on the keyboard:
Killermovies.com/forums

“Now if you spell out the ‘.’,” she said.

Killermoviesdotcom/forums

“You can get this from the name.”

Kill_ _ mov_esdo_ _om/fo_ _ms
e r i t c r u
recruit

A single sound of epiphany resonated from every person in the room.

“There were many people from Romanis’ security who roamed the internet and came across this site, but they could never really prove that it was,” Kay said.

“And that’s because the site was built up on a special spell that hid what we were really talking about from his droogs,” Brian said.

“But there were flaws in the system that allowed some of them to slip through and create accounts. We saw them as the spammers that were deleted on the first day or within the first week or their membership,” Angus explained.

“They didn’t see who we were or what we were talking about but we think they were trying to get us to do something to reveal ourselves to them,” Sid said, “Lucky for us, we’re smarter than that and they were banned on the spot.”

A small chuckle erupted from the members.

“Only two of Romanis’ actually were accepted into our community. One was DA who didn’t turn until Kay here messed with her,” Anna said.

“Not my fault, she was already scarred.”

“The other was Peach, who suspected something from us from the very beginning but worked her way into our system by making herself a Mod and befriending a lot of us,” Anna continued.

“Except me,” Kay pondered, “she hated me from the very beginning for some reason. But then again, the only people who like me are here in this room… I think.”

The meeting continued with reports of what they needed and what their next move was going to be. It was only a matter of time before Romanis was finally taken out.

Originally posted by AC/DC'S_LVR
Ch. 14

Satan burst through the doors of the Weapons and Surveillance Center with Romanis on his heals. He/She looked around the room at the monitors and the weapons the scientists were working on. Romanis watched with a wary eye as his father walked around the room and surveyed they people as they worked. Then Satan walked over to the gigantic throne-like chair on one side of the room and sat in it as though he/she was taking over things.

‘I basically am,’ he thought with glee, ‘I knew my insolent son could never take on the task of ruling a world. He’s already ****ed it up and he isn’t even millennia old yet.’

The humans around in looked in confusion as a child sat in their ruler’s throne and looked ready to give orders. For a full minute, no one moved, they just all stared at their ruler with the expectation to throw the child before them out of the room and on to be executed. But that wasn’t going to happen.

“Well,” Satan’s voice said through the small girl in the huge chair, “Get back to work!”

Romanis walked slowly over to his Father and collapsed on the small steps leading up to his throne. Satan looked down at his weary son and made a face of utter disgust.

“Go back to the sick bay, son,” he/she said, “We don’t need you getting sick all over this delicate equipment.”

When he didn’t move, two guards came over to help their Lord.

“Leave him!” Satan said, “He must learn to walk on his own!”

Mumbling apologies, they retreated back to their work.

* * *
“Glenn, what does this look like to you?” Alex asked.

“It’s just a bit of spilled sealant,” Scythe said after only taking a quick glance at the spot Alex indicated.

“I thought so, too at first, but look what happens when I run the detector over it,” he said.

As he ran the thin metal rod over the blob of clear goop, it quivered slightly, as if alive.

“Oh shi-,” Glenn said a second before snatching up his communicator.

“All members of the Resistance report to the meeting hall immediately,” Scythe’s voice rang loud and clear through the passageways of the facility, “Kay! We have a Code Orange.”

Half an hour later, they were jam packed into the meeting room, in the center of the round table a small blob of what looked like gel was displayed on the HoloScreen. Anna, Faye, Kay, Brian, Angus and Sidney were all gathered along with Glenn and Alex in a far corner of the room. After some time, they finally broke their huddle and walked over to the table.

“Alright,” Anastasia said, rage was very much apparent in her angelic voice, “Whoever is responsible for this… come forth now or we will have to forced to take drastic measures.”

A cacophony of noises met their ears after she had finished her sentence.

“What do you mean?” Riley asked.
“What the **** is that thing?” Mike shouted from the other side of the table.

“Do we have a traitor or something?” Bruce asked.

“YES!” Kay said climbing up onto the table, “We have a traitor amongst us! And he or she had better step forward before we have to do individual interviews. And don’t think it’ll take a long time no…. It’ll go quickly I guarantee it. But this place will be on lock-down until the traitor is brought to justice!”

“Hey, where’s Slay?” Grey asked.

Everyone with the ability to do so listened to the sounds above and around them in order to find Slay. The sound that reached them was the sound of a truck’s engine warming up in the frigid climate of the storage room. Without a second thought, Kay was gone in a flash.

Ten stories above the meeting room, Slay sat in a truck filled up with enough supplies to get him to Paris in good time. But that didn’t mean immediately taking off without having to warm up the truck’s engine.

‘**** me,’ he said as another round of shivers rattled his teeth, ‘What is this? The 22nd Century.’

He hit a button and a hot blast of air smacked him in his face.

“Finally,” slay said, putting the truck into gear.

“Going somewhere?” Kay asked from the seat beside him.

“Oh shi-,” Slay said before the door beside him was ripped off and he was dragged out onto the cold hard floor.

“So then,” Sid’s voice said from somewhere on top of the truck cabin, “Did you really think we’d let you get away?”

“No but you’re stupid enough to fall for my act,” he smiled through blood that had appeared suddenly along with a pain in his jaw.

“Really? So all the, ‘I’m sorry. I never meant what I said to you online. All those insults were just a joke.’ That was all bullshit?” Kyrie asked, her eyes danced in a fiery rage.

“You really are daft aren’t you?” he asked.

“No just pissed,” she said before ripping his throat out.

Originally posted by That ACDC Chick
Ch. 15
“No, stop it. Go away!” Romanis shouted.

Although his father was in the Earth realm now, the voices hadn’t subsided, they only grew in number. They whispered to him at all hours, telling him to do or say things, in his dreams he dreamt they were real people who had died at his hand many years ago. They accused him of their deaths and the death of so many others. Old… young… Magick… mortal… rich… poor…. They all came… their voices grew louder and louder until it drowned out the sounds of his concerned staff. They had seen their leader like this once before, when he first took power over the UESC, but then he only would answer an unspoken question or comment. It drove him mad… but not like this… this was something else.

“You’re all scum of the Earth! Unfit to walk amongst us! I did us all a favor by killing you,” he bellowed.

The pain… make it stop… so much pain….

It’s so cold… please… help us….

Some of the voices were in languages he didn’t understand even though he knew all of Earth’s languages. They sounded like a mix of all the languages while others were in some ancient dialect that belonged to the original Magick’s. A language created by the Elders and Gods long ago to convey their power. Romanis let out a long and painful moan as the voices finally subsided for a while.

“Sir, is everything okay?” the voices of his guards called out.

“Tell then you’re alright and to go back to their duties,” Lucifer whispered into his ear.

But Romanis simply lay their face down on the Oriental rug that adorned his private chambers. The young child that was Lucifer wrinkled his nose in disgust at the pathetic heap he called his son on the floor.

“Everything’s fine! Go back to your duties!” he called out in Romanis’ voice.

“But sir…,” one of the guards protested.

“NOW!” he bellowed in an otherworldly voice.

“Father why aren’t they going away?” the real Romanis groaned.

“They will in time, once you eliminate the rest of their kind,” Lucifer promised.

Of course his promise was a complete lie but he needed the sniveling creature of his son in order to complete his plan. For now he let Romanis lay on the floor as the voices became quieter and quieter for the time being. Once they became nothing but a low wine in the back of his head, Romanis finally picked himself up and sat in one of the chairs. Lucifer slowly walked over to the adjacent chair and climbed onto the centaur leather all while keeping a careful eye on his son.

“They’re getting stronger, the Resistance. We must crush them as soon as possible,” Romanis said from behind his hands.

“I agree, that is why I sent a mole,” Lucifer replied.

“A mole? Where?” the President asked.

“To the Resistance. He was able to win over some of their members and infiltrate his way into their ranks. I just sent a party to retrieve them,” he said with a nonchalant wave of his fragile hand.

“Then let’s go, I want to be there to kill them all myself,” Romanis snarled.

“No, they’re being brought back here so we can squeeze as much information from them as possible. Remember, they aren’t the only group of Magicks bent on our destruction,” Lucifer waggled a delicate ivory finger.

After a second to think things over, Romanis gave a small nod and he retreated to his bed where his wife Dalia Ibelhauptaite, known in scripture as the Whore of Babylon, lay. With a sigh, Romanis joined her and drifted into a sleep filled with nightmares about the Resistance overthrowing him and retaking the world.

* * *
“What do you think we should call him?” Piggle asked as she and a few others set up for dinner.

“Who?” Riley asked carrying a pot of fish stew over to the table.

“The boy. You know… the Jesus kid,” she whispered.

“Oh… I dunno,” she replied.

“Jack… they called me… Jack,” the boy suddenly appeared carrying a stack of napkins and silverware.

“Where at, hun?” Piggle asked.

“On my way here… I didn’t really have a name… so the people I traveled with… nicknamed me… Jack,” he said with deliberateness.
“Why do you speak slowly like that?” John asked.

“I was at the bottom of the… Mediterranean… for 200 years… I’m still getting used to… breathing real… air,” he answered.

“Wow,” Riley muttered as she set the pot of stew on the table.

As they watched him go on his way, the members of the Resistance held a new respect for the child they knew as Jack, but was really the key to their victory.

Ch. 16
“Members of the Resistance! Please gather in the dining hall,” Anna’s voice announced over the sound system.

The 41 members of the Resistance dropped whatever they were doing a filed into the dining hall, sitting in their respective seats. The hall was done up in lavish decorations and along the four walls was an endless buffet made of the last of their food reserves. Like every other table they gathered at, the dining hall table was round, designed after the table King Arthur used to hold his meetings. No one sat at the head of the table, for there was no end, this made everyone equal to one another and kept conflicts at a minimum. At the center of the table where the HoloScreens usually were stood the Original Six members of the Resistance, waiting for them to settle down.

At long last the hall quieted and the Original Six began their speech.

“Well… we did it… we’re finally ready for the final battle,” Kay began, “When I began recruiting you guys, I admit that I had doubts. But now… the only doubt I have is how much is gonna be left over from tonight.”

Once the chuckles subsided, Sidney took over.

“I know I speak for the rest of us Originals when I say that we can’t thank you enough for springing us from Romanis’ jail,” he said, “It’s bitter sweet that we have to leave this place, and never being able to return… but at least it’ll be for a good cause.”

“**** it all and let’s eat!” Mairuzu called from across the table.

Many people rolled their eyes but once the word was given, they all leapt from their chairs and bombarded the table. And in a matter of minutes, everyone was chatting away and shoving MG’s food down their gullets. With a flick of the wrist and a snap of the fingers, Sol produced the dessert which consisted of three fountains of melted chocolate and rows of cakes and other little treats. Once everything was eaten and the place cleaned spotless, they dragged their bloated stomachs off to sleep off the last hardy meal they’d probably have in a long while.

* * *
“Now then son… are we feeling a bit better?” Satan asked of his son.

“Yes, Father,” Romanis’ multi-tonal voice replied from within the flames.

Romanis was sitting calmly inside a Coffin of Fire, this reverted him back to his original form, the daemon Mammon. Inside the Coffin he was able to bend a stretch his form and unfurl the red, leathery wings that protruded from his back and licked the sides of the walls. His seven heads stretched to the ceiling of the room with the horns and crowns scoring marks in the plaster and gouging holes here and there. When Romanis opened his blood red eyes, he saw everything as it should be. A world filled with violence, pain and suffering.

“Good,” the growl came, “Open your mind and look for them.”

“I see them. They are in the Antarctic,” he replied, “In an old prison.”

“Good, good, now crush them!” Satan shouted, revealing his true voice from within the child’s body.

“They have too many defenses,” he growled with distaste.

“Find a way in!” Satan ordered.

“I can’t!” he protested, “There is no way in. the Original Resistance members are too strong!”

“Impossible! You’re just too weak,” the child’s body contorted into something inhuman.

“No I’m not! They’re too strong for me!” he complained.

Then an explosion rocked the foundation of the building sending dust and debris throughout the halls. The Coffin of Fire shattered and Mammon disappeared to be replaced by the crumpled form of Romanis. When he stood, his eyes were coal black and filled with their own fire from the depths of Hell.

“I know where they are,” he announced as he strode across the room to the door, “Assemble the troops! I want every soldier in their vehicle in two hours!”

Satan stayed behind with a look of pure disgust on his face at the weakness his own son just displayed. Then with a huff, he replaced the sweet and innocent look of the girl he was impersonating back on his face and followed Romanis.

‘Something drastic must be done,’ the Lord of Hell thought to himself, ‘I must summon another daemon. Perhaps the Whore? Yes… she could be his wife…. And we could be a happy family on top of the world.’

“You summoned me my Lord?” a growl said from the shadows.

“Right yourself, woman,” he ordered, “You are to pose as the wife of my son. I am the daughter. And remember, we are a happy family living our lives in royalty.”

“Yes, my Lord,” the voice said.

In a matter of minutes, the Whore of Babylon stood before Satan in the form of a woman with long, ink black hair and yellow-green eyes. A few more seconds later and the memory of her existence was planted into everyone’s mind.

“Come now, darling,” the Whore smiled, “Let us join your father in the battle room.”

“Yes, mother,” the child’s voice said from behind the malicious smile she wore.

* * *
In a matter of hours, the trucks, Transport Pods and Aerial Vehicles were jam packed with everything the members of the Resistance could carry and then some. Because they weren’t returning to the underground, Antarctic prison they had called home for so long, they needed to erase any and all traces of their stay there.

“Kay, we’ve got some problems,” Grey placed a hand on the window of the Semi the Crosby family was traveling in.

“What is it?” she asked looking up from the monitor of her GPS.

“Our cover’s been blown,” he said, a slight panicked look was apparent in his eyes as well as the eyes of many other members.

“That’s kinda good isn’t it? We want them to know where we’ve been staying and all that jazz to throw them off the trail?” she inquired in a confused tone.

“Not on this scale, no. They’re on their way as we speak, and by the looks of things, they brought the entire Romanis Army with them,” he said.

Kyrie let a heavy sigh escape her lips, “Okay, get back to your Pod. You’re team is out first, tell them to go now.”

With a frantic nod of the head, Grey jogged off to the lead Transport Pod and gave the word to the other pilots that they were to leave immediately. Meanwhile, Kay hopped down from her seat and ran to the lead Aerial Vehicle.

“Mike, we need to move faster than we thought,” she said, “Grey says they’re coming with bigger and better guns than we thought. So as soon as the Pods take off, y’ns guys take top the skies. Don’t engage with Romanis unless absolutely necessary.”

“Got it,” the diminutive Welsh nodded, “Oi! Listen up! As soon as the Pea Pods take off, we go! Only shoot at Romanis’ people if necessary and no sooner!”

“See you, Mike,” she smiled at him and ran back to her truck.

“Anna and Faye are ready to go,” Sidney jumped into the drivers seat and took the wheel just as the pods rolled out through the now opened doors.

“Is Jack secure?” she asked as she put on her seat belt.

“As safe as the reincarnation of Jesus Christ could ever be,” he replied with a grim look in his warm, brown eyes.

“Hey, Sid,” she took his hand as he reached for the ignition, “It’ll be alright, we’ll get through this.”

“I know…,” he said, he looked like he wanted to say more but the screaming of the A.V.’s cut him off.

With a mighty roar, the three Semis started up and were out the front gate just as an insistent beeping from the onboard computer alerted everyone to the close proximity of Romanis. The A.V.s had long since disappeared into the cloud cover but up ahead the Pods were still somewhat visible in the bright light reflecting off the snow and ice. Above them flew Stealth Vehicles and on the ground far off in the distance was a troop of tanks and modified HumVs.

“Do they really think they can sneak up on us with those S.V.s?” Anastasia’s voice asked over the radio.

“Who knows, I’ve always said the Russians were crazy,” Kay replied with a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth.

Just as the leading tank began firing on the Pods they disappeared under the ice having activated the Heat Drills and dropped the twenty feet through the ice in a single burst of heat to evade capture. Now that the only visible targets were the gigantic Semi trucks about four miles ahead, the attack turned into a game of chicken between the Semis and the HumV that lead Romanis’ ground attack.

“On the count of three we activate the shields and blast through,” Sidney said into the radio.

“Roger,” Brian replied.

“Gotcha,” Angus said.

The two groups came closer and closer to each other, threatening contact within minutes.
“One….”

The two Semis carrying the Youngs and the Johnsons sped up to become neck in neck with the Crosby Semi….

“Two….”

The ground troops formed a straight line so they could surround the Semis once the impact took place….

“THREE!!!”

All at once a shining lavender nexus enveloped the Semis. Some of the HumVs and tanks tried to swerve out of the way but it was too late. Above them, the S.V.s broke formation to avoid the debris. The impact was tremendous, it jarred the very teeth in every Vampires mouth to the point of pain. If any of the Vampires in the Semis had heartbeats, they would have skipped two full beats before jumping back into action at a hummingbirds pace. This being the sensation felt by the Vampires, the humans in the three HumVs and three tanks were literally liquefied. The remaining ground troops sped off into the distance towards the former headquarters of the Resistance.

“That was just the appetizer, boys… please enjoy the main course,” Anna said in a very 21st century Hollywood style before pressing the Detonator.

Behind them, the former underground jail exploded with a force big enough to send the remaining ground troops sailing through the air end over end. Finally, with whoops and cheers of success, the Resistance sped off into the bright Antarctic sun to continue their mission.

Ch. 17
“…. And further more, this treaty with the last nation to stand alone as a free nation on Earth will further strengthen our unity as one complete planet. I hereby authorize the signing of the Peace Treaty between the UESC with Israel,” Romanis said proudly during the press conference, “President David?”

A tall Israeli man walked on stage and took the pen offered by Romanis and, with a flourish, signed his name at the bottom of the Peace Treaty. When Romanis and President David shook hands and smiled for the camera flashes the crowd erupted in a round of applause and cheers except for a small group of people near the center of the audience. They stood and watched with rage as one more piece fell into place that proved that the Apocalypse was soon going to be upon them. Thousands of miles away, driving through the Canadian wasteland, three semis listened to the broadcast of the signing as they made their way across a once great nation.

In the drivers seat of the middle semi sat a sullen eyes Sidney who wasn’t even really listening to the broadcast. His solemn brown eyes wandered across the scenery of his former home as his Vampire senses did all the driving. Beside him riding shotgun was his wife, Kay, who stared in wonder at what had happened to her husbands native land.

“Oh, Sidney,” she said in a low voice, “I’m so sorry.”

Sid left one hand on the wheel and reached over to take Kay’s hand as the broadcast concluded. Meanwhile, Israel, the small group of people led by a diminutive Welsh kid, stalked through the crowd to leave the horror scene.

“You listening to this bullshit?” Walshy asked in a hushed voice, directing the question to a small com-link hidden on the collar of his jacket.

“Yeah, Mike,” Anna replied, “We heard.”

“How’s Jack doing?” Piggle asked in a worried tone.

“Fast asleep,” Angus said trying to sound cheerful despite the horrifying situation they were all in, “And he’ll stay that way until we relocate and reunite.”

“Let’s all hope it happens sooner than later,” Mike replied.

“See you later Welsh kid,” Brian said before cutting off the transmission.

In the back of the lead semi-truck, Jack lay in a cryogenic state, his body swathed in a cool, green liquid that kept his body in a frozen state and his mind in a dream-like trance. But as soon as President David pressed the pen to paper and sealed the deal to the Treaty, a stab of pain shot through the Son of God’s heart that made him stir….

* * *
It was a normal day, a perfect day really. The clouds covering the Earth had pulled back over the lands to reveal the bright blue sky and great, golden disk that was the sun as it made it’s trip around. On the other side of the world where the moon shone brightly like a silver dollar on the ink back sky, a full moon with a million stars giving their eternal light to the world. Then… a million points of light shone from the center of the chests of millions of people as they lay in bed or walked the streets. In a great and blinding light… they disappeared.

Cars crashed and aircrafts spun out of control as they tumbled from the sky. Up in the sky, a school of silver souls swam through the white clouds and through the Pearly Gates. There they all grew wings and halos appeared on their heads like a golden crown. A multitude of cries rang out through the newly formed souls as they suddenly found themselves floating in the sky before the on entity they sought after for their troubles and looked to for guidance… God.

Behind the one, mighty God stood the other entities that had spent their eternal lives looking over their combined creations. Buddha and Shiva shook their heads at the event beginning to unfold on the Earth’s surface as Romanis’ men began raiding people’s home and businesses. The Greek/Roman Gods said their final farewells and bid their luck to God and left their final gifts to their children, the demigods, and the members of the Resistance.

“If this plan goes right,” God said in his divine form to Zeus and Apollo, “My son shall prevail alongside your daughter Apollo.”

“Yes,” Zeus agreed, “And hopefully, with the help of the remaining demigods, the numbers of the Resistance will increase and their strength increased tenfold.”

“I’d write a haiku or limerick right about now, but my nerves are too shot to bring the words to my lips,” Apollo said solemnly.

In his divine form, Apollo leaned forward off of Mount Olympus and whispered into Kay’s ear through the wind, “Take care, my daughter.”

Then, along with the other gods and deities, Apollo disappeared into the vast expanse of space to await the death of Marko Romanis. But Satan had another thing in mind when he opened a great fissure directly in front of the Crosby’s semi-truck and, sending them careening off the road and rolling through the trees. Their cries could be heard over the com-link embedded behind Resistance members’s ear. Luckily, one of the Crosby’s hit the shield and a shining nexus erupted around them to protect their bodies and the cargo they carried. Finally, after rolling for nearly a mile down a steep hill, the semi came to a crashing halt as they hit a tree that sprang up out of no where.

“Is everyone alright?!” Sid called out.

“I think so,” Kay replied ion a strained voice.

“It hurts,” groaned Sebastion.

“Your foot’s in my stomach, Elly!” Kara cried out.

“Well your nails are digging into my neck!” Kiriel retorted.

“Kids stop fighting!” Kyrie shouted from her vantage point as her lower half stuck out the windshield and her torso was wrapped mummy-like in the seatbelt.

“Kay, are you okay?” Sidney said once he had righted himself.

“Never better, dear,” she grimaced, “Except for the fact that I’ve got a two ton semi truck crushing my legs, I’m peachy keen.”

“Kids try and climb out of the top, wherever that may be, and help me get this off of your mother,” Sid ordered.

“What the **** just happened?!” Faylene’s voice crackled over the crushed radio that was now hanging by a single wire from the console.

“Something made the ground open up in front of us and we went rolling down the hill,” Kay replied as calmly as she could manage.

“We’re coming back to help,” Anna said as the sound of screeching tires on the asphalt was apparent in the background.

“No! Go on without us,” Sid shouted, “We’ll take care of ourselves, just take care of Jack.”

“Y-you sure?” Angus asked in an unsure voice.

“Very, Ang. Now go on and get the hell out of here before we attract any attention,” Kyrie tried to sound positive, “You never know what the Hades Romanis has prowling the skies or ground.”

“When will we see you again?” Brian asked.

“Whenever the Gods allow it,” Sid replied.

“In other words you have no clue,” he said in a worried tone.

“Just go before I come up there and flip y’ns guys myself!” Kay shouted.

“Bye, I guess,” Faye said, tears apparent in her voice.

“We’ll find each other soon, I promise,” Kay soothed.

And with that that final wire connecting the Crosby’s radio to the transmitter snapped as they rolled the truck off of Kay. The two remaining semis drove off into the distance until they grew out of range of each other, the Johnson’s planning their route to get to an old estate Anna and Faye’s parents had set up many millennia ago but was, hopefully, still protected by the multitude of spells and enchantments that kept marauders from raiding the place and kept times harmful effects from destroying it. The Young’s drove out west to follow the last known path of the Transport Pods to find Gray and his team then they would follow the still alive GPS signal of the Aerial Vehicles to find Mike. When their belongings were safely on their backs and the remains of the truck completely destroyed, the Crosby’s set off through the woods to find the nearest town, occupied or not….

okay doods and doodettes. ive been writting a story i simply call Vampires about two rival underground organizations
im on like chapter 16spark? lately so im stuck]
but its readable at here
and im taking a creative writing class at my library where my teacher is a pretty cool dood just out of college

laters!