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Hounds Sostenuto
September
3, 2007
Brazil, South America
A small jail in Porto Seguro
Yeah, that's where I am..... and I am screwed.
Just Another Day
I'll take you all back to what landed me in this little forgotten
pissant prison. It started just two weeks ago when I still worked
for my rich uncle who goes by the name of Sam. Used to do covert work
for a small outfit within the CIA known as the Special Activities
Division. I was part of a paramilitary unit known as SOG (Special
Operations Group). Anytime the Special Activities Division needed
a small, hard-hitting force to do some global wet work they sent us
in.
Our job is to get from Point A to Point B without raising any eyebrows.
Work with a mix mash of equipment from a variety of countries. Deniability
lends to our credibility. Do the deed and get back in one piece. So
far so good up until two weeks ago. We were told to prep for an operation
down in Brazil. A CIA Agent in charge of tracking weapons and narcotics
suppliers had finally pieced together a massive jigsaw puzzle that
indicated a local group of drug lords were about to become major players
in sponsoring terrorism.
The U.S. State Department contacted the Brazilian Authorities and
subtly warned them about the soon to be major drug lords in their
back yard. The authorities more or less shrugged at the U.S. Intelligence
Briefing. We even had the Brits confirm our reports with their Brazilian
man in MI6 and present similar findings to no avail. The Brazilians
simply didn't want to play ball. Although in some cases you could
hardly blame them. Brazil has over 500 city slums, most of which are
controlled by drug lords or corrupt cops whom in turn work for the
drug lords. In addition to the massive sprawl of slums Brazil must
deal with over 50,000 murders a year. So when you tell the Brazilian
Authorities they have a mess in their backyard that is about to get
bigger it's no wonder they hardly care. It would require a massive
effort to mount any sustainable force to move through countless drug
lord controlled neighborhoods to whack some over the top misbehaving
bad guys that present a problem to the U.S. of A.
So Brazil's official stance is: It's going to be your problem, deal
with it. We don't want to hear about it, take care of it quietly.
If we do hear about it then we will rally behind the public outcry
that Americans should mind their own business and have interrupted
a many month long drug lord crackdown. We will deny we were contacted
by U.S. Administration before they took action. Given the CIA's reputation
the world presses will believe our corrupt paid for by drug lord government
statements and flock to us for 2-4 weeks with anti-U.S. coverage.
That in turn will boost tourism which will eventually die down in
short order and we can all go back to taking bribes and letting the
water simmer just below boiling point. Win win either way. Don't you
just love politicians?
So, that's where SOG comes in. Point A to Point B. Meet up with our
CIA Operative. Work with his local contacts and his own hand picked
force of anti-drug civilians do-gooders. Buy authentic Russian small
arms from the local drug lords in the back of a coffee shop and we
were ready to party. Working with our local contacts we planned a
route that would take us around most of the drug lord's towns and
the government roadblocks. Odds are if we ran into any guerillas in
the jungle it would work to our advantage since they were already
fighting the government and drug cartels. A small payoff or a promise
and we would be free to go on our way to help kill their enemies.
Guerillas live in a world where many of those around are a threat
to them and their cause. That being said guerillas have a keen sense
of survival. One look at us and the guerillas would know, we would
be very adverse to their survival.
Two days after meeting our CIA Contact I was leading a four man SOG
team deep into the Brazilian jungle. Actually our three trusted locals
were leading us deeper and deeper into this complicated maze of life
and death. That is to say our man in the CIA claimed they were trusted
locals. I trusted no one but my team and kept two men awake with the
locals at all times in two shifts. I took the third shift alone. We
stayed out of sight in the back of the single van we were traveling
in. Curtains over the windows kept out prying eyes. The occasional
roadblock was easily passed with a bribe of one hundred American dollars
per guard. That would buy them plenty of booze and hookers all month.
They simply looked at the locals driving the van and thought they
worked for the local drug lord. Take the bribe, go home alive, rinse
and repeat. If you stepped out of line you were likely to end up as
one of the 50,000 murders that take place here every year. The locals
weren't bad guys; they just do what bad guys tell them to at the point
of a muzzle. In all my travels there was one constant, no matter what
country you're in there is always plenty of people getting crapped
on at the bottom.
We drove for three days in the sweltering humidity quickly leaving
behind all signs of civilization. Deep in, there was nothing but small
villages with the occasional gas pump. No towing service out here
folks. If you can't get your vehicle back in working order your ass
is humping the next fifteen miles to town in the aforementioned heat
to wait for a bus jammed full of locals that will take you God knows
where. On the way to Point B deep inside the jungle our van broke
down. Luckily our CIA Contact kept a good stock of spare parts and
warm beer stowed on top of the van. Within an hour we were back on
the narrow dirt road. Towards the end of the day we finally got as
close to Point B as we could. Satellite photos showed from here on
in there was a single road breaking off to our destination. If we
took that lone road and didn't have the right credentials, the well
paid, well fed, well trained hombres guarding the road would mince
us in a nice crossfire. Not where I wanted to be.
We said good bye to our local contacts who would hang low at the nearest
town and wait for a call to come pick us up via satellite phone. The
jungle was immersive to say the least. All sorts of nasty critters
just waiting to get a taste of exotic foreign blood. I was trying
to think of the last time I had my shots for all diseases known to
man. You know, the doctor of doom with rubber love gloves that asks
you to drop them nicely and for the next day or so you feel like a
ragged doll from his tender love injection. And all I got was a pat
on the ass and a lollipop. Any way you look at it, from here on in
we were on our own.
We got thick in the jungle avoiding all trails. Paranoid drug dealers
have been known to plant anti-personnel mines at well known spots
along trails leading to their backyard. Not to mention we didn't want
the fireworks to start because we got made by being careless. We moved
for half a day losing about ten pounds of sweat to the damn tropical
canopy. We took a short break guzzling down water and then filtering
and refilling our canteens from a nearby stream. Eating a few non-thirst
provoking energy bars we were on our way again. Non-thirst provoking.
They tasted about as good as their "nutritional" ingredients sounded.
It was almost near nightfall when we broke a ridge to a small lush
filled valley below. We had finally arrived at Point B which was about
40 miles away from where I am telling this story currently incarcerated.
About one mile down along the valley we could make out a small hub
of activity around a fort like town. We would spend the next two hours
slowly moving our way towards our target while looking out for patrols,
guards, snakes and anything else that may ruin our fun tonight.
Dance With a Demon
At about 2100 hours we were eyes on with night vision checking
out all the details satellites couldn't quite capture. There is something
to be said for being there live in person. We noticed right away that
there was way more security than previously suggested. Either Intel
was way off (surprise) or we had something going down tonight. Half
an hour later we had our answer as a small caravan of two trucks with
tarps and one off road SUV pulled up to the front gates and was admitted
access. Late night visitors. More eggs to fry as far as I was concerned.
I put my binoculars up to my securely strapped 4th gen night vision
goggles to get up close and personal with our new visitors. The tarped
trucks unloaded first. Looked like a security detail from they way
they dispersed around the SUV, even keeping the local hired muscle
from getting to close. Professionals. I hate professionals. About
thirty of them from the looks of it. Finally the mystery door opened
on the SUV. You're shitting me. That my friends started the night
that led to the rest of my crazy life.
I'm staring hard at this dark figure getting out of the SUV. Pale
face, long dark hair. Freak one is wearing a trench coat in this miserable
climate. Freak two climbs out the back of the SUV with a shorter coat
looking much like freak number one except he's kinda' got this hunch.
I knew SUV's had air conditioning but there is no way in hell anyone,
anywhere, within one hundred miles dressed this way. Guess I picked
the right night for fight night. Whoever they were I'm sure they were
part of the puzzle I was sent to eradicate.
I signaled to my men to take up positions around the camp on higher
ground. They had already played ninja around the camp perimeter and
set nearly a dozen well hidden charges that would rip this place apart
within seconds. Combined with an overwhelming non stop lethal crossfire
followed by a mop and stomp we would be gone by 2400 hours. My men
carefully worked their way to multiple positions surrounding the camp.
I anxiously checked my watch waiting to start the ambush. Game time.
I was getting ready to set the charges off which would signal the
start of our ambush when out in the distance I heard a low and steady
rumble. My men knew I would not start an ambush with enemies at our
backs so they patiently waited at their positions until we could see
our newfound arrivals.
More tarped trucks from the look of it. Three total. Passed the gate
and coming in with no problems. Well, I was willing to play sit and
shit awhile longer to add to our body count. A few more hired goons
got out of the trucks. These were dressed like the local hired muscle,
not the freak parade. I stowed my binoculars and grabbed the detonator
once again when a burst of static shrieked in my ear. One of my men
had broken radio silence and tapped his mike in warning. We didn't
speak unless absolutely essential. That way any bad guys scanning
the airwaves would only hear a non-discreet spike whether they had
the equipment to pick up our encrypted channels or not. After being
startled by the sudden burst of static I once again set the detonator
down and started looking through my gun scope with night vision.
Now I could see why one of my men signaled me. Just in time from the
looks of it too. After the local muscle jumped down from the tarped
trucks they unhinged the doors and out came dozens of locals all with
handcuffs. A quick scan of the prisoners and I realized most of them
were young. What the hell was going on here? I heard about drugs,
guns and guided missiles on the Intel report, not human bodies. Freak
number one signaled to freak number two who in turn procured a brief
case. Our target drug lord threw his hands in the air and walked forward,
very happy from the looks of it. Definitely paper money. The drug
lord held a wad up and thumbed through it. Too far away to tell what
currency it was. However that quickly left my mind as we now had thirty
plus prisoners in our area of operation that was about to become a
surgical slaughter.
Plan B at Point B. I hated it when Plan A never worked but then again
when in the hell has Plan A ever worked? I quadruple tapped the mike
signaling for my men to re-group on my position. Huge mistake. Freak
number two with the hunch suddenly went for something in his pocket
brining it to his ear. He then walked briskly back to the SUV opening
the door and waving his hands for freak one to come over. Freak one
said something to the drug lord who was still smiling broadly. The
prisoners just stood there surrounded by the drug lord's BABA's (Big
Armed Bad Asses). With one swift motion freak one stepped back from
the SUV and waved his arm while letting out a shrill whistle. Immediately
everyone who had come with him started making for the jungle double
time. Asses and elbows, every one of them. The door on the SUV shot
open and a figure darted from the vehicle carrying a large case of
sorts.
The drug lord just stood there looking as confused as hell. Screw
it, time for Plan B, hit and run. I would hit while my boys were making
their way back to me. I got a good shoulder meld and opened up with
my Russian RPS. Short burst across the drug dealer's face and chest.
He didn't look too happy. Come to think of it he didn't look like
much as he went down in a fine mist of blood. His goons started to
panic sweeping their guns every which way. I started short bursting
groups of goons. I saw a small flash of light across the camp. One
of my boys had opened up. The prisoners started getting real freaked
out and began moving towards the jungle where the freak and his crew
had absconded. Good, might let us blow the camp with minimal civilian
casualties.
No sooner had the thought crossed my mind and I let out another short
burst of gunfire the whole camp erupted in flames. I sat hunched over
my gun in disbelief. A raging fire had caught hold of their fuel dump
and let a nuclear looking belch skyward. I grabbed the detonator in
disbelief. The safety was still on. I hadn't touched it. How in the
hell had the charges gone off? Hardly one hostage had made it out
of the base. A few were rolling around on fire. I let off a few more
controlled bursts at shapes dodging this way and that in the camp.
A few more kills, a few more unconfirmed.
Suddenly a host of gun fire erupted to my right. That had to be one
of my boys. Heavy fire from the sound of it. Plan B was to fall back
on my position and set off pre-planted claymores hopefully focusing
a cone of destruction on any hot and bothered party in pursuit. Something
was wrong. The gunfire was still continuing. Either it was too hot
to move or he had been physically wounded. Just as that gunfight had
erupted another began on my left. Grenade going off followed by more
gunfire. I looked both ways bewildered. I knew three of my men were
coming in hot on my left. I decided to go help my lone man on the
right. I flew down from my position scanning for any signs of counter
fire coming from the enemy. One burst, two bursts. I dropped and hosed
the area where the enemy was advancing on my man.
Got back up trying to reload the RPS on the run. Not the easiest task
while running at break neck speed but somehow I managed to feed a
new belt in and lock and load without tripping on the uneven vegetation.
I slowed again scanning back and forth slowly. I saw my man limping
towards me while spraying with his gun behind him. He took a few rounds
in his back vest plate and thumped to the ground. Rolling over he
came up with a grenade and hurled it in the enemy's direction. I came
running into the fight screaming into the mike I had his back. I let
out a good long burst in a wide arc hopefully keeping our assailants
heads down. They started returning fire sporadically as I threw a
grenade their way as hard as I could. A few yelled as the grenade
touched down. Their yells shortly turned to screams as the grenade
went off.
I slid on the jungle floor like a batter coming in on home base hot.
My man yelled something about his leg. I shouted back to tie it off
and get going. I planted forward and started short bursting when I
could glimpse the enemy's fire. I yelled into my mike to regroup and
follow Plan B. Nothing. I yelled again into the mike this time with
a hint of anxiety. Again nothing. There was no way in hell all three
of my men on the left didn't have functioning head mikes. This was
going south fast. I hocked another grenade as hard as I could, my
arm feeling like it was dislocated from the furious swing.
Typically this is where a unit runs like hell laying down less and
less fire at their pursuers. I had a surprise for my most bloodthirsty
enemies. I laid low eyeballing my wounded man as he made his way back
in retreat. Finally I saw dark shapes emerging from the jungle in
front of me. Damn they were good. Even with night vision they were
going to make it hard to kill several of them at once. They kept close
to the terrain moving quickly and carefully. I popped my RPS's bi-pod
on a thick tree root and started in hard. Two went down right away.
I caught return fire from my right splintering the root I was using
as partial cover. I countered their offer of death with more than
a few rounds of my own catching one in the leg and sending the others
in full blown Olympic dives to find cover.
While focusing on my enemies to the right I caught a glimpse of someone
walking into the clearing directly to my left. I couldn't believe
someone would be that stupid. I made a mental note to wax that walking
retard as soon as I let out a few more bursts to my right. I glanced
fully to my left now focusing on the emerging person. Dammit to hell.
It was one of my men. I had no idea how he ended up on this side of
the valley. I screamed into my mike. He just kept walking forward.
His gun was firmly clenched in his hand with the trigger firmly being
pulled. He was out of ammo and hadn't changed his magazine. I yelled
in his direction. I could see the shine in his eyes as he looked towards
me. He had taken a round through the jaw and couldn't speak. Blood
was streaming over his combat vest. My eyes went wide in seeing his
condition. No sooner had he emerged into the clearing than a loud
round went off and blew a hole wide open in his chest. I screamed
hard running toward my man watching him as he fell. I poured the rest
of my belt in the opposite direction of which he fell.
Something jumped out of the vegetation and started running like crazy.
I pulled my sidearm and unloaded the entire 8 rounds of .45 in that
bastard's direction. He jumped again and went down hard. I reloaded
while jumping over a dead tree trunk landing with a hop and then hugging
a tree to my right. I popped out and got a clear line on this soon
to be dead asshole. I dropped the hammer hard stitching his back knocking
him down. As if in slow motion I kept firing as hard and steady as
I could. I saw his head jerk down hard as I managed to nail it before
he dived. Just as his body hit the ground several shots rang out from
behind me. I dived and rolled to my right coming up tapping off a
few shots in their direction. The bad guys I had managed to suppress
before tearing off after this asshole had finally caught up with me.
I was down to four sidearm mags' with a wounded man making his way
back that I had to rendezvous with and get the hell out of dodge.
God willing my other two men would turn up. Somehow I had my doubts
but I still hoped. I made my way toward the bastard I had plugged
several times in the back and head. I slowly scanned the clearing
where he last fell. Hell! Nothing but a pool of blood with streaks
going forward indicating he was still on the move. I quickly looked
around for any movement. Nothing. Movement behind me. I hauled through
the jungle running in a massive arc coming up to where my retreating
man was. He lay against a tree root holding his gun on his chest.
I came running up to him fiercely whispering in my mike. No response.
No movement. I carefully approached his side scanning the ground for
trip wires either he or maybe our enemies had set. I came up and grabbed
his face. Lifeless. I yanked off one of my gloves and grabbed his
wrist feeling for a pulse. Nothing.
I just sat there and stared. A small pool of blood was staining the
upper part of his shirt and vest. I started looking for a bullet wound
when I noticed blood coming from his neck. His throat had been sliced
across the front. Not too deep but deep enough to drain him. He was
here waiting for me and was butchered while I was off chasing the
freak in the trench coat. I quickly regained my composure. I stripped
his magazines from his vest and pried his AKS assault rifle from his
hands. Pulling out my last grenade I lightly rigged a trip wire under
his body and made my way deep into the jungle. I stopped at our rendezvous
point and sat hunched over for hours scanning the jungle for any sight
of survivors, hoping and waiting. None of my men showed up. Not a
soul. Not a sound.
Before morning I decided to move along the valley and try to see if
there was any activity in the camp or if any of my surviving men had
been caught. I slowly scanned the camp for any signs of life. Again
nothing was moving save a few small plumes of smoke rising here and
there. My men were dead. They had to be dead. That's why they hadn't
met up at our rendezvous point. I just couldn't accept what my head
kept saying. I had to know for sure. I choked down some water and
started my careful trek down into the valley again.
I came across my man with his throat slit. His body still rigged to
blow. Leaving him be I moved slowly to my man who had been shot by
the freak in the trench coat. I carefully surveyed the area and examined
the massive chest wound. My head started to swirl and I suddenly felt
weak. I vomited the remnants of what little I had eaten and crawled
off to the side. Propping myself up against a tree I kept running
the nights events through my mind while blocking out the horrors of
what happened to my men. I crawled over again carefully examining
my man with the massive chest wound. The damage wasn't caused by a
regular round. We're talking .50 caliber or bigger. The round had
blown clear through the front and back armor strike plates. Freak
one had been holding the weapon in one hand when he shot him. Possibly
used a .50 caliber pistol. Rare. Not overly practical in the field
and definitely was not a one hand weapon. Having regained a bit more
strength I crawled over loose foliage and pulled myself up once again.
I scanned all around. Still not a soul in sight.
I slowly moved along the dense jungle floor picking up tell tale signs
of what had taken place. My man was set up on the far upper left of
the camp. I figured he had seen the freak show run for the jungle
and knew they would be coming up on us as he opened fire on them in
retreat. He decided to flank them and hopefully catch them between
the two of us. Damn smart. But something had gone wrong. I circled
around the camp in a wide arc. I found a few blood splatters on dead
leaves and a spray of blood against a tree with a few bullets in it.
This was his initial engagement. They were ready and waiting. I looked
around carefully investigating the immediate area till I figured they
had caught my man as he moved across a small clearing. They hit him
several times from the looks of it. Blood on a few vines and again
on several dead leaves.
He had returned fire and must have seriously nailed one of them judging
from the spray of blood on an opposing tree. As I stood taking all
this in I just realized none of the freak shows bodies were lying
around. What the hell was going on here? I became very paranoid again
scanning around as if I was being watched. Too much had happened and
way too much was not making sense. I decided to move along and see
what had become of my other two men across the camp.
Moving along the ridge around the valley I finally came upon one man
lying on the ground. His body seemed to twist as if he was going for
something behind him. I carefully examined his body for any booby
traps. He was clean. Figuratively speaking anyway. I straightened
him out and saw a slit across his throat identical to my other man.
His magazine was empty and lay ejected on the ground. He had been
attacked from behind when he went to reload. Someone was damn fast
and coordinated to pull off such an attack in the dark. I was beginning
to think about freak one who had been at the camp. It was a figure
with a trench coat I saw jumping away. But I was positive I had shot
that bastard in the head and back. How in the hell could you walk
away from that?
I walked yet a little while longer observing footprints here and there
pushed into the jungle floor. Just behind a tree I found my last man's
body. He had gone down hard. Several enemies in several directions
from the look of it. Grenade blasts had peppered trees everywhere.
The blast impact could easily be pinpointed along with blood showering
all vegetation nearby. Someone had ruffled through his combat pack.
I scanned the contents. Nothing was taken. Whoever did the search
had been looking for intelligence items. Too bad for them. We didn't
run a hit with any Intel on us other than a few maps of the area.
All satellite photos were memorized then burned enroute before insertion.
Well it seems my enemy, whoever darted off in the jungle, had taken
all their dead with them. I couldn't just leave my men here with these
low life drug pimps bodies. Odds are they would eventually end up
in Brazilian newspapers claiming my men were part of a drug deal gone
bad. Wasn't going to happen while I was still alive and kicking. I
carried one man next to another laying them down carefully. Next I
went after another body on the right side of the camp barely having
enough energy to bring him back. After a short rest I went back for
the last body carefully pinning the trapped grenade back into place
before moving his body.
I lay next to my men, all of us in a row. All of us warriors. They
had died heroes. Why the hell couldn't I be a corpse lying next to
them? Would suit me just fine. Better than living at this point...
But I had to keep moving. I had to keep going as long as I was alive.
Since no one was around I guess I would call the locals waiting in
town to pick me up. Load the bodies in the van and give them a proper
burial later. I slid out of my pack harness and was amazed to see
several bullet holes going through my pack. I pulled out the satellite
phone. Shot to shit and back again. I took out my strike plate and
noted I had taken a round square in the back. Didn't even feel the
impact. Must be a damn good plate. I tossed it aside. It felt good
ditching all that weight.
I piled a grave of dead branches and vines upon their bodies and lit
them on fire. I watched the fire burn not caring if anyone saw the
blaze. All my memories of them flooding back. Their lives, their loves,
their names. Hell, we didn't have names. Not in this business. We
were ghosts. Hardly a single soul would know of my men and what they
did here today. I collapsed not wanting to live. I screamed. I yelled.
I wished I were dead. But that was the problem. I wasn't dead. I thought
about suicide. That would not honor my men nor their memories. With
that in mind I ditched all my gear except my .45, my canteen and whatever
energy bars I could stuff in my pockets and once again picked myself
up and made my way out of the valley.
I found the main road and stumbled along in a tired stupor. After
a few hours a bus loaded with locals came rolling by. I held up my
arm and the bus stopped. The driver leaned out the window saying something
and staring at me. He repeated it again and then pointed to the roof.
Great, no room at the inn. I get to ride on top of the bus. Not that
it mattered much. With the mental state I was in I preferred to be
alone. I slowly climbed a small rusting rickety ladder on the back
heaving myself over the baggage railing. As the bus got under way
driving steadily on the dirt road I soon passed out from exhaustion.
When I woke up I was a guest in this lovely local jail cell. Apparently
the bus driver pulled into town and everyone disembarked for the day.
The bus driver climbed up top to get me going and saw the pistol in
my belt. He didn't want any trouble so he went and got the local Policia
who then cuffed my unconscious ass and slung me into prison. Two weeks
later and I am still here.
The young officer here understands a decent amount of English as he
is a huge fan of western music, specifically hip hop. When the chief
makes his runs around the town taking in bribes and women the young
officer plays his rap music loudly in the office. Some days I dream
of killing him and his music box. I asked the young officer why I
am being held. He says the chief holds me because I looked like hell,
smelt like death and was carrying a gun. The chief is going to ask
around and see if anyone is offering a reward especially the drug
lords. If not then he may let me go but most likely he will put me
on a prison bus when it comes to town and send me to a federal prison.
Unless I can figure a way out of here I am seriously screwed. My country
will deny I exist, Brazilian courts will deep six my rear into a federal
prison which has the largest population of male rapists in all of
Brazil. And it is in that prison that I will serve a yet to be determined
number of years with my pale white ass glowing like a beacon amongst
all the tanned hides around me. I will be porked like the other white
meat.
So far both the chief and officer are being very careful around me
taking no chances whatsoever. I have pretty much given up on the idea
of trying to strangle one of them if they come too close. In the meantime
I exercise with what little jail space I have listening to the officers
crap rap while constantly running the events of that one night in
my head. Every image. Every detail. Constantly questioning every event.
Every judgment call I made. What I should have done. I questioned
myself to the point where I couldn't believe my own reality that I
had lived. I couldn't believe my very own nightmares which plagued
my dreams. Yet I knew that they were real. So I lay in this cell rotting
away trying to retain what little sanity I had left.
Just when I thought I would go insane, that I had hit the edge to
never return and had accepted my dismal fate..... They came along.
Enter The Hound
It was late at night in my little prison cell. The food
was great, I was getting good exercise and the night officers on patrol
didn't play rap. I had gotten a new roommate in the next cell over.
Some German tourist. He keeps telling me jokes in German then laughing
at his own jokes. I can hardly understand a word he says but at the
very least he has diverted my attention from what happened several
weeks ago. The young officer says the German is in here for starting
a bar fight and disrupting the peace.
I lay wide awake every night. That damn freak haunts me. I've put
down quite a few bad guys in my time. I know damn well when someone
goes down and whether I've hit them or not. It just keeps eating away
at me... Maybe he had an armor plate on his back and he snagged his
head on the way down. No way. I was too close. He left a pool of blood
where I hit him. It was a clean kill. At least it should have been.
As I was torturing myself over the events just past, I heard some
talking down the corridor towards the front of the prison's office.
Odd since it was two or three in the morning. A local, judging from
the accent. They chatted for a bit, and then I heard someone speaking
in English. American from the sound of it. Something about a priest.
It was a bit unusual, no it was very unusual, but the God fearing
officers out front let the priest in to see the prisoners. Why in
the hell would an English speaking priest want to visit a Brazilian
Jail? Maybe he was making a visit to the local convent and decided
his presence would be encouraging to our misguided souls.
He made his way down the hall speaking soft blessings to the sleepy
eyed prisoners as they lay on their cots. The German apparently said
something rude as the priest snorted then moved on not offering any
blessings. He then came to my cell. Walking to the end of the hallway
he moved a chair from the wall and sat facing me. He stared out the
prison window to my side. "Lovely weather we are having my son." the
priest said in a soft steady voice. "It's the middle of the night
father." I replied. "Ah yes, I do miss it. My line of work dictates
that most of what I do be done during the day." the priest continued,
"I do however occasionally get out at night. How about yourself my
son, do you ever get out at night?" I sat there not replying looking
halfway down at the cell floor. The priest seemed content to carry
on a one sided conversation. "It's as if the entire world is asleep
at night. All the cities and their millions slumbering, all the chaos
enveloped by the darkness. A lot of people don't see the beauty of
the night. They seem content to live with the carefully controlled
chaos during the day rather than face the loneliness of the empty
night. Misery loves company. That's what the hustle and bustle of
the cities provides."
"Mind if I smoke?" asked the priest. Very strange for a priest I thought
to myself. But then again everything about this seemed strange. "Go
right ahead father." I replied. "How about you my son?" the priest
said, holding out a rather large cigar. Very tempting, but I just
wasn't in the mood and shook my head no. The priest gave a carefree
shrug and proceeded to light up. Once he got a good light going he
took a long draw off the cigar and slowly exhaled, the smoke drifting
upward towards the prison window. "I always like to have a good smoke
after doing a significant amount of work. Like a celebration of sorts."
"What's there to celebrate father?" I asked with hardly any interest.
"Well," the priest blew out a long trail of smoke, "Me and the rest
of the padres decided to do a little charity for the locals in Brazil.
Took donations, raised the money, even took the slow boat out here
so we could personally ferry our donations to the locals. We met up
with the locals, got all set up in a town that could really use our
donations and really had a great time. You should have seen the looks
on their faces. A total success and well worth the effort."
"The day before we were supposed to leave we got wind of another local
charity that could really use our help. A real hard up case. We just
couldn't ignore it you know? You learn there are some things in life
you just have to do otherwise you can't live with yourself. Heck,
I'm sure you've been there. Anyway, we were all set to do some more
of the Lord's work when wouldn't you know it, we got lost on the way.
It turns out we didn't have the right directions. The people were
disappointed and we were really disappointed with ourselves. But get
this. It turns out some good Samaritans were in town that day anyway.
They tried to carry out the Lord's work and they did a fine job. But
in the end it just wasn't enough. They didn't have the resources we
could bring to bear and the people still suffered although not as
bad as before."
"Sounds like you do good work father." I said leaning my back against
the cool prison wall. "That I do son, that I do. Although I must admit...
Wooh, damn fine cigar. I wish we would have had another padre in the
thick of things to help us out. There's no underestimating a fourth
man in the fire." A priest recruiting me? Well after what I just went
through maybe it was for the better. But I had unfinished business
and if I ever got out of here I planned on breaking open quite a few
heads. "I'm sorry father. I just don't think I'm the hard luck soul
you're looking for. I still have some unfinished business I need to
take care of on the outside." "Mmm..." the priest looked deep in thought
as he sat there puffing on his cigar. "Well my son, maybe I can help
you with that. After all I've been around quite awhile and traveled
to many places. I virtually have friends in every corner of the globe."
"Look father," I said straightening up a bit, "Its not that I don't
want to get out of here it's just that I don't think I'm the type
of person you want around. I haven't led the cleanest life and well...
I've done some things and I'm not willing to stop for the time being."
"Whew! Glad to hear it!" the priest said in a quick shout startling
the hell out of me. He then leaned a bit closer, "Most people think
God's armies are full of saints. I'll tell you this right now son,
none of us are saints until we are buried in that cold unforgiving
earth. Every one of us a sinner till we die. I need you mean as hell
before you lose that fire otherwise you are of no use to me and the
fella's."
"And besides," the Priest continued on while waving his cigar leaning
back in the chair, "You put the fear of God into that bastard and
his half breed army a few weeks ago. From the looks of it you took
out at least over half his men with only five on your side. That's
not too bad for not knowing what you were up against. Hell, most people
wouldn't play that kind of game if they knew what they were dealing
with. But I suspect you would have fought the good fight anyway. You're
just the guy we've been looking for."
Here's the part when that fine Brazilian barbeque shoots straight
through me. Must have been the sauce. Or the Priest sitting in front
of me who had me dead to rights. It was probably the Priest. It was
my turn to sit straight up and start asking the questions. "You aren't
really a priest, are you?" I said becoming nervous. "Nah." he said
with a smile rolling the cigar then pushing it to the corner of his
mouth, "I just play one during the evening. Although I was a padre
quite some time ago. Nowadays I leave the lion's share of prayer to
those more dedicated than I. In turn they leave the lion's share of
the killin' to those more dedicated, namely a few close friends and
myself. It's a beautiful relationship." he said continuing to smile.
"Who sent you?" I asked, getting more nervous by the minute. "Are
you with the agency?" "No, no, I'm not with your government." A foreign
recruiter then, I wondered? "Why did you come here? What do you want
with me?" Sometimes when a country deep six'ed their ties with an
asset a friendly country or not so friendly country would come sniffing
around trying to play head hunter. Usually they made out pretty good
as the cut off asset's other options were not overly ideal. If this
was a game and I was getting played then it was time to cut through
the bull crap.
"Who are you and what do you want with me?" No sooner had I said that
the German muttered something next door. The Priest looked towards
the German's cell and spoke fluently back to the prisoner in German.
Was I being recruited by the Germans? Or maybe KGB who used to work
the east side of the iron curtain? The prisoner started laughing and
clapping his hands. Quite frankly I was getting a little freaked out
trying to figure the connection between the prisoner and the priest
and what they wanted with me.
The priest leaned in close tipping his chair slightly forward. "What
I'm about to tell you may not make sense. Then again what you went
through a couple weeks ago probably didn't make any sense either.
I bet all this time you've been sitting here beating yourself up over
what happened like any good soldier has done in the past. And like
any good soldier you're not only going to get through this trial and
tribulation, but you're going to settle the score with whatever killed
your men." This priest, killer, agent or whoever was sitting in front
of me had managed to get my full unadulterated attention.
"Now I bet you had one or so of these bastards in your crosshairs
on that fair night and I bet these bastards didn't go down like they
were supposed to." the priest said leaning back again. He then pointed
his cigar at me exhaling another long snake of smoke into the evening
air. "And if I were a betting man, which I'm normally not mind you,
I'd say you would be willing to do just about anything to be in a
room full of those bastards locked, cocked and ready to rock, wouldn't
you?" I didn't know what this guy's game was but I was getting more
interested and tensed by the minute. "Who did I cross that night?
Who did that to my men?" I asked apprehensively. "Foreign operators?
Some new technology being fielded? I'd kill to get that close to them
again." I said with a hint of anger.
"Well you were up against a technology of sorts. But no man made that
with which you fought. You could say however it wouldn't be possible
without man. A perverse technology if you will. Something unintended
like all of life's little, nuances... Tell me, do you believe in God,
good, evil?" the priest asked inquisitively. "I guess." I half stammered.
I had seen some heavy shit in my time. "I don't really know." Where
was he going with this? "Fair enough." the priest said nodding understandingly.
"That night, you and your men were witness to an extraordinary event.
One that few living beings have ever seen. You witnessed a demon in
his habitat. I'm not talking about the ethereal kind; you know the
whole spiritual war in an unseen dimension by forces that would bind
our souls with but a glance. I'm talking about living breathing walking
on this very earth right here and now demons. Beings of the night.
What century old constructed myths from villagers who just crapped
themselves may call vampires. More than a few of which you and your
men danced with that night."
This priest wasn't crazy, he was insane. I think he had been hitting
the holy water a bit too much. Then again what did I know? I thought
I fought a pale faced trench coat wearing freak in the middle of the
damn jungle that killed all of my men slitting two of their throats.
The priest or whoever was sitting in front of me had managed to track
me down. He knew what I did, how I did it and he knew what was eating
me up inside. Something that couldn't be quite explained and that
no one else could have possibly known. A man with all the answers
and possibly a ticket out of here was sitting in front of me. That,
is a dangerous man. I was a man with no answers and a short future
if I couldn't get the hell out of here. Quite frankly I wanted answers
and most of all I wanted revenge for my men. I leaned forward with
a hard look on my face. "What's your offer?" I asked dead straight,
leaning further forward as if anticipating his answer.
"You want it straight?" the priest said tilting his head up looking
down past his nose at me. "Straight." I replied. The priest stopped
smoking his cigar and snuffed it out in the palm of his hand, flicking
the remaining ashes away. My eyes went wide. He hadn't even flinched
from the burning cigar. "Here's your deal son. Once in a hundred lifetimes
offer. We kill; no scratch that, we hunt and exterminate what killed
your men that night. We cut them in their sleep, we shoot them while
they eat. We afford them neither safety nor sanity. Before they prey
on the weak they look back thinking we just might be there and sooner
or later we're going to be. They think they are at the top of the
food chain. They think humans are nothing more than sheep without
a shepherd. We are here to let them know otherwise. We haunt the haunters.
When they make you cry we make them die. There is not any place we
will not go to hunt these demons amongst us."
"What they did to your men, what you witnessed that night, pales in
comparison to what we will do to them. This isn't about revenge, it's
about vengeance sevenfold. If you walk with us tonight I promise you
will be up to your neck covered with the blood of these demons making
them suffer an eternity of pain." The priest stood slowly looking
down deep into my eyes. "That, is my offer."
I stood shaking in anticipation. I walked up to the priest, killer,
whoever he was and looked him dead in the eyes. "I'm in." The priest
stepped back cracking a slightly malicious grin. "Bear." The German
prisoner responded from his cell, "Ja." "Spring him." the priest said.
"Ja." the prisoner replied again. I heard a cell door open. A large
shadow creeped it's way along the wall nary making a sound. That shadow
belonged to the biggest German I had ever laid eyes on. This guy wasn't
part of Hitler's so called master race; he was the entire master race
from the looks of it. The hulking shadow walked into the moonlight
of the jail hall. "Gutentag Wolfman." said the bearded mass of muscle
in front of me. He took hold of the cell bars looking at them with
a fierce intensity. Flexing into a tight stance he pulled back sharply
snapping the decades old inch thick lock.
While I was watching this feat of extraordinary strength I failed
to notice the priest moving a syringe out from under his robe. "Sorry."
he said as I fell to the floor on my knees, then toppling forward
into the waiting arms of the hulking German. "Were on our way out."
the priest said, speaking into something near his collar while he
moved back out of the jail cell. The massive wall of muscle that spoke
German tossed me over his shoulder. "Sleep well Wolfman." he said
walking out of the cell. "Why do you... calling me that? You speaks
englishhh?", I said in a slur as I passed out from the contents of
the syringe. Guess I got my shots after all.
Beware priests with cigars and syringes. They probably aren't priests...
Open Thine Eyes
"Rise and shine Frankenstein." A
voice to my left. My eyelids were too heavy to open. "Who's there?"
I asked. "Part of the party responsible for breaking you out
of jail Wolfman. My name is Hawk. Mud Hawk." "You the one the priest
was communicating with via radio?" I asked in a half sleepy tone.
"Good memory. We weren't sure what you would remember after the ritual.
The exact process and its finer points are completely unknown to us."
"What ritual, was something done to me?" I asked groggily. "You could
say you are no longer the man you used to be. But we'll talk about
that later. I'll go get the doc. She will be interested to know that
her patient has awakened. I'll be back shortly Wolfman." With that
a door opened and the person talking to me, this Mud Hawk character
left the room and walked out closing the door behind him.
Even though I was sure whoever had rescued me from my little Latin
prison wasn't out to kill me, I wasn't about to let my guard down.
I may have not been able to open my eyes yet, but my senses were kicking
in full gear. I noted as Mud Hawk closed the door it closed with a
soft echoless thud and I couldn't hear any footsteps on the other
side of the door. It was reinforced, possibly sound proofed. I started
moving my arms, feeling about. I was lying on some sort of small bed.
I dropped one of my arms off the side of the bed. No floor within
reach. Like an examination table of sorts. I could feel a single restraint
around my waist but nowhere else. Meant to keep me secure but not
restrain my movement. Seemed harmless. So far I wasn't picking up
any bad vibes.
The man in the room with me. He said his name was Mud Hawk. So they
used aliases. Just like my last outfit. The priest said he wasn't
a government type. Mercenaries then? Not too much was adding up. But
then again nothing that had happened to me recently made any sense.
In the meantime I felt content to lay back and wait for the doctor.
No sooner had I started to relax the door clicked and opened. Foot
steps. High heels. I liked where this was going.
"Good evening Herr Wolfman." Another German? I heard a click and a
cold hand on my face. One eyelid was opened and a light flashed into
my eye making me groan at the sudden intrusion. "Looking good Herr
Wolfman. Let us see your other eye, yes?... Good good. Still a bit
slow but you are starting to respond. How do you feel?" I lay there
somewhat dazed. "I feel tired. I can't move very well." I replied.
"I'm afraid that is my fault dear Wolfman. It was necessary to have
you sedated for your little trip. But the Hounds got you back in one
piece, even if a little worse for the wear. They seem excited. I have
never seen them act this way... Do you remember where they took you?
Do you have any recollection of what happened to you?" "Sorry Doc,
I was out cold the whole time. I remember being in Brazil then waking
up here." I said. "Well," the Doc said patting my chest, "if you remember
anything be sure to let me know. Memory retention could be important
to your recovery." "Will do Doc."
"I'll let the guys in now." she said walking towards the door. I was
anxious to meet "the guys" already and find out what the hell was
going on. "Take it slow with him." she said outside the room, "He's
not nearly one hundred percent yet." "Ja, ja, ja... Wolfman!" My God.
The German "tourist" I had been imprisoned with came flying into the
room knocking something over on his way in. That something appeared
to be Mud Hawk as he started swearing. The German grabbed me up and
hugged me tightly. "Bear!" the Doc said sharply, "Hands off!" The
German muttered something quietly under his breath still hugging me
tightly. "Bear!" the Doc started again but was then calmed by an all
too familiar voice. "Thank you Doc, I'll take care of it." "See that
you do." the Doc said as her high heels clicked walking away.
The door closed once again. "Bear, he needs to breathe a little."
The German relaxed his hug sitting down next to my bed. It was the
priest from before. "How you doing padre?" I asked managing a grin.
"Very good. How about yourself Wolfman?" Again, who was this Wolfman?
"I feel kind of weird and can't see shit but the Doc said it would
wear off." "Good. The Doc has a lot of experience. You're in good
hands." I lay there somewhat uneasily with three strangers in the
room.
"So what's the deal?" I asked bluntly. The priest laughed, "To the
point yet again." "Hah, just like Wolfman!" the German tourist roared
right next to my face grabbing my arm and shaking me a bit. "Seriously,
who the hell are you guys?" The German quieted and the priest let
out a long breath of air. "We've never had to explain this to an outsider
before..." the priest said quietly. "Where to begin." "How about starting
with the assholes I fought back in the jungle there padre." "Alright,"
the priest said, "sounds like a good place to begin."
"What you and your men encountered that night is at best a supernatural
living phenomenon. A freak of nature if you will. A being that sits
above humans on the food chain and looks down in contempt and distaste."
"What you called a demon?" I asked. "Yes, what those in our profession
call demons. You encountered a soldier of the night. What was once
a man now works against mankind. A demon personified as an inhuman
being. What you encountered that night that you failed to kill."
"If a demon is human of sorts then why couldn't I kill it?" I asked
trying to once again open my eyes to see those before me. "When the
demon is first created it is still weak from its transformation. As
time wears on the demon masters its new vessel and transforms its
new shell into something inhuman. What you fought in the jungle that
night, what killed your men was a fully transformed soldier of darkness.
A lost soul that cast down its humanity to revel in the pleasures
and pain it now brings against mankind."
"How do you fight something like that?" I asked thinking of that night
and what had happened to my men. "You go with the full understanding
of that which you fight. That night you were unprepared. That night
you encountered something beyond your understanding. Next time you
will kill that which you have come to know. That's what we are here
for. To prepare you to lead us. We have been to long without a leader."
"I led my men to their deaths. Why in the hell would you want me to
lead you?" The priest laughed and the human panzer sitting next to
me joyfully jabbed me in the arm. "You are Wolfman, ja? We no die,
we now thrive!" Mud Hawk suddenly spoke up from a corner of the room,
"The strength of the pack is the wolf, the strength of the wolf is
the pack. We are once again a pack."
"Who exactly are you guys? Why do you keep calling me Wolfman?" My
eyes cracked open slowly and for the first time since that night in
jail I once again saw the blur of a man with all the answers sitting
before me. The priest nodded to who I can only assume was Mud Hawk
who then brought a cup of water handing it to me. "Slowly." Mud Hawk
said as I drank. I coughed a bit trickling water down my shirt and
continued drinking. "Good." the priest said nodding in approval. "I
will answer your first question which in turn will answer your second
question."
"We have been fighting the demons and their hierarchy for quite some
time. We were first recruited by the Vatican as hired muscle. Unbeknownst
to many the Vatican retains a small army of talented troublemakers
across the globe to help along their "agenda" when the situation calls
for it. The Vatican searches for its talent very carefully. Each and
every one of us was a died in the wool criminal on a downward spiral.
In turn we were each visited by a priest looking for reckless souls
to join "God's Army." "Sounds familiar." "Well to be honest we were
eyes on you before you ended up in jail. When you encountered our
unique target and lived to kill another day you shot straight to the
top of a very, very short list.
"Just like you we jumped at the chance to get out of jail. We were
taken to a Vatican training center deep under a monastery in England.
All sorts of people from all walks of life were there training non-stop.
The Vatican recruited worldwide as we soon found out. Blood Bear over
there hails from Germany. Mud Hawk and myself both hail from America.
The man who would eventually lead us around the globe, Wolfman, came
from Italy."
"We trained together for nearly an entire year. Ex-military honed
our skills in the use of small arms and explosives. Martial art experts
worldwide had contributed to the vigorous hand to hand combat program.
After our physical education we were then prepped for our mental education.
Under the training of several priests we grew to see the world in
a whole new spectrum. Nameless sects fighting for control of the world.
The true nature of evil and its constant meddling manifestation. Once
our eyes were opened we could not ignore the darkness that paraded
before us."
"We traveled the globe with our leader James Antenor, the one we would
eventually call Wolfman. He was an ex-priest who decided running and
gunning was more his nature than sitting on the side praying for those
that did. Anywhere the Vatican needed to apply the use of subtle but
direct force we were there. We did our job so well that we were eventually
invited into the Vatican's upper hierarchy. We were put under the
tutelage of a high ranking bishop who tasked us with personally removing
clear and present dangers to the Vatican."
"Our group showed up to train but right away we knew something was
very different. Nary a soul or anyone else we had worked with in the
field was around. We were ushered into a large cathedral past midnight.
A group of monks blindfolded us and led us deep into a series of hidden
catacombs beneath the cathedral. After what seemed a lengthy time
walking in silence we were led into a rather large room and our blindfolds
removed."
"We looked around in amazement. We were at the center of a small bustling
city beneath the Vatican. Priests, monks and bishops we had never
seen in the vicinity of Rome sat about working on all sorts of projects.
Ancient translation, meticulous logging of information, communication
with organizations around the globe twenty four hours a day, securing
sacred artifacts, the Vatican spearheaded an enormous operation with
a surprisingly small amount of resources. And little did we know,
we were about to become the tip of that spear."
"For the very first time we saw the world in a metaphysical sense.
Shadows, myths and legends all came creeping forward in the Vatican's
holding cells and ancient documentation. We were first hand witnesses
to living tomes of ancient knowledge, tortured souls screaming in
prisons, beings that had a thousand names with ever-changing forms,
and eventually we would meet mankind's darkest enemy, fallen angels
incarnate."
"A little over five hundred years ago a small sect of Christian Knights
known as the Cross Templarus discovered a most unusual site of ritual
sacrifice. They wisely surveyed the sacrificial site keeping a close
eye on the patrons who visited on a regular basis. In turn the Templar
contacted a priest who met with them. Under the veil of night they
crept close to the sacrificial site."
"The site was littered with all sorts of strange graffiti and symbols.
The priest tried to decipher the symbols surrounding the site but
could recognize very few thus not understanding the deceptively evil
nature of that which the Templars had discovered. The priest followed
his duties and made etchings of the symbols sending them to Rome.
The Vatican was able to decipher a great number of symbols, yet the
order in which they were arranged did not fully reveal the sites dark
purpose. Years later the full meaning of the dark symbols would ring
a death toll to all mankind."
"Two decades later the very same knights came across the dark ritual
symbols carved on the back of a mad man flogging himself in the middle
of a small town. The town's people thought the mad man possessed.
They set about to stone the man despite the protests of a local monk.
The monk realizing he could not stay the crowd quickly sent a messenger
to summon the knight's strength."
"Several knights rushed to the chaotic scene unfolding in town. They
expertly maneuvered their mounts forcing the crowd to disperse around
the man, which they so eagerly sought to murder. One of the knights
dismounted and tended to the dying man now grasped in his arms. The
man kept muttering in Latin the same words over and over again. "God
is merciful, I have escaped the fallen." The Cross Templarus who had
discovered the ritual scene a few decades before recognized the sickly
carved symbols in the mans back."
"The knight sent for the same priest who had accompanied them to the
sacrificial site so long ago. The priest, upon receiving an urgently
sent scroll sealed with the Cross Templarus Signet made haste to the
knight's secreted lair. There the priest carefully examined the dead
mans body. After several hours the priest finally deciphered the meaning
of the symbols from the mans back in relation to that of the sacrificial
site."
"At the sacrificial site symbols had been arranged in a chaotic pattern
on the ground. Upon further research the Vatican concluded the symbols
were summons for fallen angels. However they were unable to determine
the exacting purpose of the summons. They found no sacrifices around
the site thus determining it was not a rite for power from dark beings
appeased by the blood of innocents."
"Upon discovering this mad man with carvings on his back they finally
had the missing piece to their chaotic puzzle. The man was not intended
as a sacrifice but a carefully prepared host for a dark being to enter.
However unbeknownst to those preparing the marked man for their dark
ritual they had not closely examined their target before selecting
him. Their chosen vessel was inflicted with a mental abnormality,
something today we would call psychosis."
"Their dark enchantments and cognitive inhibiting fluids failed to
keep the man's mind seated for possession and eventual expulsion.
Drunk with dark discourse the cult lay exhausted around the ritual
circle. When they awoke they discovered one of their captive hosts
had escaped his bonds. However, Mr. mental was not the only host they
had laid out for possession that day. Two beds of rock to the right
and left of the escaped man were still occupied. Thus two fallen angels
of immense power had been summoned to inhabit two humans, one a man
and the other a woman. An earth born son and daughter of the angel
of light, also known as the fallen star cast down from heaven, Lucifer."
"The two human bound spirits were unlike any previous manifestation
attempted by fallen angels. Typical demonic possessions would have
a fallen being gain entry into one's mind thus corrupting the mental
functions of the possessed. Possessed persons have been known to display
supernatural phenomena when under duress such as floating, speaking
in languages they do not know and past psychic revelation."
"Modern science has labeled many such individuals as having mental
retardation or being schizophrenic in nature. Despite societies diminutive
understanding of such matters we see fit to collectively pool such
individuals in what we think of as secure installations such as asylums.
A truly dangerous collective of dispirited minds. However the son
and daughter of sin did not come to inhabit their vessels in such
a typical manner nor do they display the same supernatural feats as
the mentally possessed."
"They were called to their earthbound bodies with a strong transmogrification
of sorts. Upon entering their new vessels they did not simply possess
their hosts, but rather pushed the host's souls from their very bodies
forcing them to roam a spiritual plane until a great future harvest.
In turn, this gave the two fallen angels unprecedented ability to
manipulate their new vessels to inhuman standards which they did with
reckless abandon."
"The dark beings traveled about their new plane of existence reveling
amongst the humanity in which they sought to conquer and rule. After
many years of biding their time and amassing power with which to bind
our world they struck upon humanity and tried to carve a kingdom of
their own. They failed miserably as the might of men cast them down.
The dark beings were confused as to the nature of their failure. What
they failed to grasp was that man could not be contained by direct
force but rather indirect pressure. When you confront the sum of man
with all conquering force man will push back per instinct. When you
surround mankind with subversion and slowly sow seeds of deception
you will eventually break the will of man."
"With this understanding the dark beings set about to deceive man
into eventual self slavery. To do so however was no easy task. Other
fallen angels jealous of the earthbound power of the two dark beings
were sowing seeds of random chaos. This conflicted with the controlled
chaos the dark beings sought to achieve. Not to mention the church
was a regular thorn in the demon's proverbial side. The dark beings
would need to bring their own numbers to bear against humanity or
their transformation would have been in vain. It is within that eternal
scope they plotted with their cast down father against our heavenly
father. And in doing so they once again brought transformation to
mankind. Bringing a scarring darkness that would work in the shadows
of the night to envelop their control over man. A darkness we would
come to know as the vampire."
By now the look on my face was one of utter incredulity. I had been
witness to the touch of darkness worldwide. Death camps, genocide,
rape, pillaging and corruption all on an Old Testament scale. Sometimes
I cleaned up what my government started, many a time I cleaned up
what others elsewhere turned a blind eye to. This priest sitting in
front of me with his two associates, the German known as Bear and
the strong silent type of a man named Mud Hawk in the corner hadn't
flinched or cracked a smile once while the priest was telling this
engaging tale of ghosts and goblins. In fact not only hadn't they
flinched or shown any sign I was being hornswoggled, their faces were
that of dead emotion. Their eyes looking straight through me as if
remembering. Remembering a past.
This priest was telling me there was a world of darkness and pain
that I didn't even know existed. Not until that one night several
weeks ago. Not until that world of pain took the only thing I cared
about and bled it dry in my very hands. My men. And sitting here before
me was another group of men. Crazy men from the looks of it. Men who
didn't seem remotely phased at what had just happened to me. The priest
sitting in front of me, he was just getting started.
"The vampire was the dark beings crowning achievement. A labor of
perversion entailing centuries of research. The result was a twisted
being. A hybrid human with demonic characteristics that would fully
manifest over time. A relentless soldier of darkness. It needed no
food. No water. Just blood. Any creatures flowing blood would keep
the Dark One's Children alive to do their bidding. But the blood of
humans would empower them, posses them. Nearly euphoric in nature
like that of drugs to an addict the vampire thrived on the pulsating
flow of human blood."
"The sensation never grew old. The vampires never tired of the fresh
blood afforded them by the humans they looked down upon as mere sheep.
The dark being's children quickly spread around the globe further
corrupting positions of power held by man. In turn they would harness
the power and resources gained at every opportunity and collectively
pool them for their dark lords. What was once a battle of strength
turned into an all out war of control and manipulation."
"How do you know all of this?" I asked in anticipation cutting the
priest off. I couldn't believe I was taken in by this tall tale. "First
hand experience." the priest said. "But you know the history of how
this came to be? Details only the vampires could know?" I said nearly
stumbling over my own words trying to piece together everything the
priest had just told me. "Too true." the priest said understandingly.
"We know the very history of the darkness that now constricts humanity.
You might say the Vatican was able to secure a first hand account
of what took place. Currently incarcerated twenty stories below the
papal headquarters in Rome lies one of the fallen beings severed heads.
It is floating within a thick near impenetrable glass vase filled
with mercury. The female being to be exact. Her name remains unknown
to those outside the Vatican's highest authorities."
"The Vatican purged her body from this world and now all that remains
is a living head seething with fury. At the cost of two exorcists
lives we were able to string the truth from her lies and piece it
together with what we already knew. After the "probing" the Vatican
issued that no one is to have contact with the demon no matter who
they are, no matter their position within the church. I can tell you
from reading the exorcists accounts who survived, that is one pissed
off bitch."
"As the war of deception raged on, the remaining dark being was not
alone in his wanting to control man. Many other groups, brotherhoods
and secret sects worldwide fought for the same control. It was the
very same groups vying to contend the vampires growing power that
gave vital information to the church. In turn the church would take
action against this growing darkness. The Vatican decided to dedicate
a portion of its underground resources to this emerging threat. They
studied the threat the vampires and their dark lord posed to humanity.
The Vatican was soon imersed in a cold war with the vampires trading
blow by blow in the darkness while humanity slept unaware. Hunters
were trained and specially equipped to bring the war to the vampires
no matter where they might be. Centuries later as the covert war raged
onward, little did we know we were about to become part of this shadow
war."
"One fine night those loving monks raised their frocks and exposed
us to the underbelly of the Vatican. We toured the catacombs. Saw
first hand the vampires shrieking in cells. As part of our training
we engaged captive vampires learning how to fight their kind. We watched
the monks and priests dissect our enemies showing us exactly what
the vampires were capable of. How the beings of the night thrived
and survived."
"We stole into the shadow of the night carefully watching our enemy.
How they moved. Who they worked with. Who they preyed upon. Ultimately
who they manipulated to gain power and clout in human society. We
watched first hand as they took direct control over humanity building
contacts worldwide. In turn we did the same. We trained those who
had encountered the vampires. Taught them how to hunt the vampires
just like our teachers did."
The Vatican, demons and Bear. Oh my.
Transformation
"One night with a full moon shining down upon our backs, the
Vatican made a request to see us at their research laboratory. We
were regulars to the secret locale as the laboratory supplied us with
new weaponry on a consistent basis. Little did we know as we made
our way down into the research facilities that we were about to become
the Vatican's latest experiment."
"It was common to see races from around the world visiting the laboratory.
Trusted individuals from nations around the globe would come to learn
and pick up the latest and greatest in vampire be-gone weaponry. This
fair night we noted a visitor we had never seen around the secret
facilities let alone the Vatican's jumble of cathedrals and churches.
It was an old Indian with several younger Indians around him. The
young Indians watched with wide bright eyes the hustle and bustle
of the strangers around them. The old Indian sat with his legs crossed
on the floor smoking a pipe, appearing to be in deep thought. As we
walked by he looked up staring at us. His face was old and worn, his
eyes dark but with a fiery glimmer. Bringing in every detail he watched
us walk down a corridor for our meeting with the bishop who had overseen
our work against the vampires from the start."
"Walking into the room we noticed Bishop Hezek was not there to greet
us like he normally was. We sat down in folding chairs waiting for
our meeting. Sitting around the room we made small talk when suddenly
Mud Hawk started feeling sick to his stomach. Soon enough all of us
were feeling Mud Hawks pain as we gripped our stomachs in gut wrenching
agony. We had eaten at a small restaurant before making our way to
the Vatican. It was a usual stop for us as the restaurant was "highly"
aware of the nature of our work. The Vatican's Hunters were regular
patrons."
"As we fell to the floor holding our stomachs in pain I remember our
leader James had noted the serving staff was different that night.
The door swung wide open and in walked Bishop Hezek with a line of
monks behind that quickly dispersed around helping us up. James asked
what the hell was going on as the monks led us out of the room. Bishop
Hezek said not a word. Soon we passed out in the monk's arms as we
were carried down corridor after corridor deeper into the bowels of
the facility."
"We awoke strapped to several beds usually reserved for holding vampires
during interrogation. Monks and the young Indians we had seen earlier
were tending to Bear who was strapped next to me, awake and cursing
in his native tongue. When the young Indians noticed I had awakened
they called the Indian elder who came to my side. Chanting over me
while he smoked his pipe he tapped my forehead with his fingers then
pry'd open my eyes looking carefully into them. He spoke to a young
Indian woman next to him who came forward alongside a monk carrying
a platter of food and water."
"I hadn't yet noticed when I first awakened but I was extremely hungry.
Odd since we had just eaten at the restaurant. Bear quieted down as
he shoved a monk aside grabbing the food and shoveling it with both
hands in his mouth. The Indian nearby Bear backed away cautiously
as he grabbed a water pitcher from her hands and guzzled it down between
mouthfuls of meal, drenching his beard in water and crumbs."
"As Mud Hawk and James awoke I noticed Bishop Hezek standing quietly
in the shadows of a corner along with a priest. He stayed watching
us carefully until everyone was happily eating and Bear had calmed
down substantially. Satisfied we weren't going to harm anyone he walked
away with a priest and the old Indian. The monks and young Indians
swarmed about us helping us up and moving again. We asked several
monks which we knew and had previously worked with what had happened.
They ignored our questions, instead communicating to the translators
who in turn would talk with the Indians. James shook his head when
I tried to ask further questions. He figured we would get our answers
soon enough. With that we continued to focus on moving about and regaining
our motor skills."
"We were moved by wheelchair to a more open room at a less secure
level of the underground facility. There the monks would occasionally
check in with us. Two young Indians sat in the corner of the room
watching us very carefully but not saying a word. After a while we
grew used to their presence and started chatting about what had happened
amongst ourselves. A few hours later Bishop Hezek with the old Indian
walked into our room followed by the same priest accompanying them
earlier. It turned out he was translating between the bishop and the
Indian elder. The Indian immediately came over and started examining
us once again. He nodded to the bishop who then signaled for everyone
to leave the room as the old Indian continued to probe and prod us."
"We sat watching as Bishop Hezek closed the door behind the last attending
monk and then walked back and forth a few times in front of our chairs.
Bear couldn't stand the silence anymore and started rattling off in
German at the bishop. Bishop Hezek raised his hand nodding his head
at Bear. Bear quieted down waiting for the bishop to continue. Bishop
Hezek sat down and let out a long sigh, looking in turn at each and
every one of us. After carefully studying our faces he lowered his
head murmuring as he did so. After a minute he stood up and took one
good look at all of us again. Opening the door he simply said "You
are free to go." Despite our protests and yelling questions he never
looked back as he left our sight."
"The old Indian stood with a look of confusion on his face. He looked
at us inquisitively then nodded his head in understanding and walked
to the door as young Indians peered in. As the old Indian walked through
the door he stopped turning to look at us one last time. He spoke
in his native tongue then walked away. We all started asking each
other questions. What had happened to us? Had we done something wrong?
Why wouldn't Bishop Hezek speak to us? James grabbed a young Indian
by the arm as they made to leave the facility." "What did the old
one say?" James asked not letting the young Indian move an inch until
he got an answer. "He says, "Happy hunting hounds." "With that the
young Indian wrested from James grip and continued to follow the rest
out."
"As we stood there wondering what we just went through, a monk walked
in as bright an oblivious as day and told us to follow him to receive
our new orders. We looked at each other. No scars, no needle marks,
no harm, no foul. And with that we followed the cheerful monk down
the corridors to continue our shadow war against the vampires. Little
did we know we had been transformed into something truly terrifying.
Something that had taken hold deep inside of us. Something that would
come out on the largest battleground this world has ever been witness
to. Word War Two."
I sat there looking at all three of the men before me. I blinked my
eyes a few times. My eyes seemed to be working just fine now. Maybe
I should call the Doc and have my ears examined. Demons, vampires,
monks, knights, Indians and now immortals. I looked at Bear hard.
He was sitting there eagerly waiting for the priest to continue. Sure
why not. It was becoming fastly apparent I was broken out of prison
by militants from a freaking insane asylum. I didn't know how much
more of this I could take. The priest sat there quietly studying my
facial expression. Mud Hawk was also watching my expression slightly
aloof. "We need to move this along. Wolfman is looking a bit disturbed."
Mud Hawk said tipping his chair back leaning against the wall. "Right,
right. Well this is the end Wolfman I promise. After this everything
will make sense, okay? "Sure." I said hesitantly. "Let's just finish
this." Bear once again grabbed my arm in anticipation shaking it.
"It get good now Wolfman."
I'm sure it was...
Fallen Wolf
"Where was I..." the priest said cocking his head to the
side in thought. "World War Two." I offered. "Right! Right. So after
our most confusing meeting with Bishop Hezek, the Vatican ushered
us off to our next grand mission. World War Two had been going on
for about a year and a half. The Vatican had received rumors that
Hitler and his occult buddy Himmler were heavily into ancient artifacts.
In their grand pursuit of trying to master a race of super beings
they started a worldwide pillaging of powerful and sacred artifacts.
Naturally this worried the Vatican. If Himmler convinced Hitler to
raid the Vatican quite a few nasty artifacts would be unleashed on
the world including that demons head. Lucky for us Hitler was allied
with Mussolini at the time and would not dare move on the world's
most holy capital, especially under an allies control."
"However that did not deter Himmler one bit. Select SS members underwent
extensive training in stealing and stealth and were sent around the
globe to steal away anything Himmler deemed necessary for his secret
projects. During this time we were tasked with finding these covert
members and disposing of them. We tracked these Nazi thieves across
five continents killing them at every turn."
"As we engaged our enemy in combat we noticed something extremely
peculiar. We were not tiring as much as we had on previous missions.
We felt stronger than ever before. We maintained our strength and
energy with little or no exercise. We discussed our new physical disposition
heavily amongst ourselves. As we continued our work we often marveled
at how extraordinarily strong we had become. After months of discussion
and testing ourselves in combat countless times we finally came to
the conclusion the Vatican, along with the old Indian had been able
to somehow alter or manipulate our muscle tissue to a superhuman level."
"One year after we had begun tracking and eliminating Himmler's band
of thieves, we were called off our current tasking in order to take
up a much more dangerous mission at hand. The Vatican had been able
to place a few moles within Himmler's most trusted SS Officers. In
doing so the Vatican was able to finally locate many laboratories
in which Himmler was conducting his research into developing a master
race of Nazis."
"The Vatican was able to sabotage quite a few laboratories but could
not penetrate a rather large remote installation deep within Germany.
It was even rumored Himmler himself made personal visits to follow
the progress of the research he spearheaded for the Fuher. Given our
recent bout of extremely successful missions we were tasked to infiltrate
"Festung Radikale", also known as Fort Ruthless."
"The Vatican's reports on the fort was dead on. It was built against
the back of a rather tall mountainside that was regularly patrolled
by Nazi Special Purpose Groups. In front were miles of the Germans
very own Black Forest patrolled by Waffen SS, a hardened military
division within Himmler's Schutzstaffel organization. With no easy
way around to the mountains we opted for the front door approach."
"It was a nasty winter as we carefully worked our way towards the
fort. In doing our deadly work we realized why others had not been
able to penetrate the forts defenses. Our altered bestial like strength
had allowed us to succeed rather easily where many others would have
been pushed to their limits or flat out failed. When we came within
sight of the fort we realized it had been built from the remnants
of an old castle. Himmler had apparently invested quite a bit in the
place as most of the castle had been restored allowing for a rather
large and advanced base of operations. The task before us was daunting,
but our leader James would not back down from such a challenge."
"One winter night under a full moon we scaled a wall partly shadowed
by trees and quietly made our way into the massive maze of stone halls
and rooms. Working within the shadows we split into pairs, searching
high and low trying to locate the research laboratories. It was Bear
here working with James that discovered the research halls towards
the rear upper end of the castle."
"We congregated and settled on a plan to assault the laboratories.
We went in with knives drawn and silenced guns holstered, but at the
ready. We left the front guards alone, instead dropping from a tower
through a window. We once again split into pairs and quickly started
working rooms. Any scientists or living subjects we came across were
immediately terminated. After a room was cleared it was rigged with
explosives and made ready to be detonated in conjunction with the
other rooms. As we were clearing rooms moving deeper into the research
structure we began to notice a familiarity of the experiments and
research laid about. The vampires were working with the Nazi's."
"As we worked our way to a large archway we noticed two guards quietly
standing in an alcove on either side. Working our way along the cold
stone wall we prepared to take the guards out. James nodded his head
and in one second we were on both guards with our knives aiming for
their throats. However they didn't go down like all the other guards
had in the other rooms. Vampires never go down quite like humans as
you can certainly attest to. One vampire tried reaching for his knife
but Bear quickly snapped his arm back while James continually stabbed
the vampire trying to bleed the bastard dry so he would stop moving.
Mud Hawk and myself had jumped the other vampire knocking him to the
ground but unlike his counterpart he was more alert and sprayed the
wall with his gun sending chips of stone flying everywhere before
we cut him down. We heard a commotion through the door responding
to the guard's warning shots and a host of footsteps making their
way towards us."
"James immediately sent Mud Hawk and myself back through the rooms
towards the front of the laboratories expecting guards outside would
soon be running up our backsides. We swung our submachine guns forward
in anticipation of a fierce fight with Nazis making their way across
the ramparts toward the back of the fortress. Back inside James readied
a grenade and Bear kicked the door wide open spraying his submachine
gun in a wide arc. James rolled the grenade in while Bear burned through
his clip keeping those inside pinned down. The grenade went off with
a much bigger bang than anticipated apparently catching combustible
research materials in its impact. Bear reloaded as both he and James
stormed into the room, shooting a few moving vampires not dead from
the blast. Looking around the room they realized why the grenade had
made a much larger impact than normal. A small cadre of vampires had
been holed up in the room with enough ammo and explosives to wage
a small war guarding Himmler's pet project."
"Back towards the front Mud Hawk was laying down suppressive fire
against multiple enemy positions while I would take my time and pick
off Germans for clean kills. However the longer we fought the more
Germans showed up and started in the firefight, pushing us from the
doors and back into the hallway. If James and Bear didn't resolve
the situation towards the rear of the laboratories they would push
us back into the rooms rigged with our own explosives."
"James and Bear pushed past the room full of vampire guards and came
into a much larger room filled with vampires peppering off shots as
they made their way in. Scientists in white coats ran about burning
research and putting other more important research into carrying cases.
James ordered Bear to clear a door to their side so they wouldn't
be broadsided if enemies were in waiting. Bear opened the door and
immediately received fire across the room from an adjacent room. James
yelled for Bear to go and clear them out and he would handle the scientist's
room with the few guards remaining."
"Bear bounded through the side door throwing a grenade into the adjacent
room. He then pushed into the far room with his pistol and knife ready
to work. Mud Hawk and myself were finally forced to move back into
the main hall as we could no longer suppress the overwhelming firepower
outside. Just as we made to run from the hallway to the first set
of rooms a massive explosion roared, shaking the entire fort. We immediately
thought a stray bullet from the Germans outside had found its way
in and set off one of our explosives. We soon realized the explosion
was much further along towards the back where Bear and James were
fighting."
"We ran through the halls stringing the detonator cords along as we
as we anticipated having to collapse all the rooms towards the front
of the laboratories. We came across Bear in a hallway covered with
debris. We moved a few pieces of large debris from his legs and chest
helping him up and holding him steady as he regained his senses."
"Hearing footfalls and yelling behind us I nodded for Mud Hawk to
blow the front rooms. They went off like clockwork severing the angry
guards from getting anywhere near. We worked our way over fallen debris
and bodies eventually finding James at the end of the massive research
room. He was lying on the ground on his side with a rather large piece
of a support beam punched through his chest. His eyes moved across
our faces as he was still living but could not speak. He motioned
his eyes to the side as Bear ran up trying to desperately figure out
how to save our leader."
"I ran through a massive hole in a wall that James had motioned to
with his eyes. A hunched over researcher carrying a rather large case
was running towards the outside ramparts. I yelled as he ran and started
firing at his back. The researcher turned out to be a vampire as he
jumped nearly ten feet in the air sailing off the fortress wall. I
hit him several times in the backside and ran to the edge of the wall
emptying my rifle then my pistol as he made his way quickly through
the snow. Guards outside the fortress returned fire protecting the
vampire as he escaped. I quickly reloaded and gunned down the guards,
shooting at the vampire several times before he was lost to me in
the forest."
"Just as I turned my attention back towards the laboratory Mud Hawk
started yelling for me in a really worried tone. I came on the run
jumping through the hole in the wall looking at Bear, now hunched
over holding James lifeless body. But it wasn't James that Mud was
yelling about, it was Bear. We watched in horror as his skin drained
of color first turning a pale gray then a dark gray. The hair on Bear's
body seemed to bristle with movement. We then realized it was starting
to push slightly outwards catching the moonlight as it grew longer.
Bears back started to tremble, his muscles tightening under his coat."
"Bear looked towards us with rage as tears moved down his cheeks.
His whole body had subtly transformed into some sort of being. His
nails grew long, trickling blood around his hands. Bear stood up growling
at us as if he was trying to say James's name but couldn't manage
to do so. We both backed away as he stood looking back and forth at
the two of us. His face had been distorted. He had massive fangs protruding
from the bottom of his jaw, two smaller fangs adorning the top. His
eyes were a cold steel hue. At that very moment we collectively realized
the true nature of what had been done to us deep within the Vatican's
Catacombs."
"We heard soldiers working through the debris of the detonated rooms.
We had to move soon if we did not want to be discovered yet again.
We approached Bear carefully, both of us talking to him and consoling
him. We coaxed Bear into picking up James's body and removing the
splintered beam from his chest. We then corralled Bear onto the rampart
I had chased the vampire off of. We tied a rope around a massive parapet
to make our way down the outer fortress wall. I was desperately trying
to think of a way to get Bear to let go of James's body and move down
the rope when he simply leapt clear over the side. We watched in amazement
as he landed at the bottom starting in a dead run."
"We quickly jumped off the side letting go of the rope halfway down
and giving chase. His speed was incredible. Even in our superhuman
states we could not catch him. We heard the report of a rifle and
looked behind us at the ramparts, figuring the soldiers had finally
made their way through the ruins. We heard another report and Mud
Hawk quickly turned in the direction Bear was running. Two guards
with a German Shepherd had seen Bear running for them and started
firing in his direction."
"Bear jumped into the air holding James's body in one arm as he came
down grabbing a guard's face in his clawed hand. The guard's body
went limp as Bear threw it to the side stomping on the guard dog biting
at his leg. The remaining guard shot Bear several times. Mud Hawk
and I were desperately trying to draw a bead on the guard and put
him down before he could hurt Bear anymore. Apparently the guard in
his utter terror had managed to shoot James's body as well as Bear's.
Bear dropped James body to the ground as he lunged at the guard. Picking
the guard up by the face he tore the mans gun arm clean off letting
it sail into the air behind him."
"We ran up to Bear slinging our guns. We motioned for him to pick
up James and waved our hands having him following us. If we didn't
get Bear out of the area there was no telling what he would do. I
was particularly worried about his gunshot wounds but the pools of
blood underneath his clothing had stopped spreading. At this point
I wasn't willing to give a hands on inspection. We made our way safely
throughout the forest as most of the guards had been called back to
the fortress early when the fighting erupted."
"As we made our way down a steep untamed ridge, I marveled at how
easily Bear moved even when compared to us. We finally came to a place
where we could stop and rest without intrusion. I carefully approached
Bear coaxing him to put James's body down. He stood there for several
minutes as if contemplating his actions. Again I moved closer this
time leaning to the ground shoveling the snow with my arms. Bear followed
my example and put down James's body after clearing snow away in a
similar manner. Bear sat hunched in the snow looking at James. His
head started swaying side to side, his body then toppling sideways
into the snow."
"I walked over and slowly extended my hand. Bear wouldn't hurt us.
I then grabbed his back as he started convulsing. The convulsions
stopped as abruptly as they had started and Bears muscles started
to slowly contract from a heightened state. The hair that had grown
outward seemed to melt away as his pallor slowly turned back to normal.
Within minutes Bear was back to his normal self passed out in the
snow. Mud Hawk just stared at James and Bear wondering what we had
just went through. We didn't have any answers."
"A hour later snow started drifting down in heavier waves. Bear was
coming back to consciousness. Mud Hawk had been on patrol ensuring
we were still alone. I pulled up Bear's coat examining his gunshot
wounds again. Nothing but small scars. No openings whatsoever. Bear
started looking around in confusion. I motioned for him to be quiet.
He saw James's body and started going over it. He pulled all of James's
gear off and started to prepare him to be buried. Bear was back and
operationally sound. Even in his altered state he had understood what
had happened and what needed to be done."
"I helped him dig a shallow grave as Mud Hawk came back on the double.
He had spotted guards trying to track us with dogs in the heavy snow.
We needed to move fast. All of us picked up James and lowered him
into the grave. We all said our good-bye's but Bears goodbye was more
than revealing. As we buried James, Bear said "Goodbye Wolfman." It's
as if when he was transformed he knew what the rest of us were. He
knew we were all alike. And thus Bear had named our leader appropriately."
What the hell...
Sleep The Ashes
"Back in Rome we searched for answers. The Vatican remained
silent and we were unable to locate Bishop Hezek. We figured we would
try the States' searching amongst the Indian tribes for answers. We
wandered around North America searching high and low for the old Indian
who had helped transform us. After three years of looking we finally
found him on a reservation in New Mexico."
"He appeared happy to see us but kept looking for our missing leader.
We were finally able to communicate to a younger Indian what had happened.
The old Indian appeared to be very troubled by what we had discovered
in Germany and what happened to James. He motioned for us to stay
in the elders lodging. One hour later he made his way to a nearby
fire pit painted up to the tenth degree with feathers tied in his
hair. It looked as if he was ready to start a war all by himself.
He started dancing around the fire. None of the elders joined him
but instead watched in silence. Young and old gathered alike watching
the old man dance and dance. None of them seemed remotely phased that
we were visiting. The old man danced for just over a day. At the end
he collapsed exhausted."
"Young Indians moved to his side, several of whom had been with him
the night we were transformed. I asked them what the old man had been
doing. The young Indian was not sure of the exact ritual and pointed
to an elder who might be of help. I again asked what the old man had
been doing this time of the elder. The elder said our brother had
not been properly buried. Our brother was imbued with an ancient rage
as were we all. The old man made sure the rage left his spirit for
its journey home. The old man wanted to speak with us before we left
when he was once again capable. We went to our lodging and fell fast
asleep still wondering what we were just witness to. We slept long
and hard feeling an eerie calm come over the reservation."
"In the morning we were awakened by the old Indian once again prodding
and probing us just like the day we had been transformed. The elder
we had talked to earlier that day sat in the corner eating his breakfast,
never taking his eyes off his plate. The old Indian started rattling
off in his native tongue. The elder in the corner translated for him
between mouthfuls of food. "He says, when you have found another hound
worthy to join your pack, come to us. He will be blooded and you will
be as one again." With that the elder went back to pawing at his plate
moving the food this way and that. "Where can I get some of that food?"
I asked the elder. "My wife has packed a meal to take with you on
your journey home." The elder then stood with his plate and walked
out to pile a second helping on."
"As we stood to go Mud Hawk remarked the elder would die of heart
attack if he kept that up. The old Indian who had performed the dance
the night before spoke in straight English startling us all, nearly
making me jump. "He eats to escape his wife in this life. She in turn
is more than willing to help him escape." The old Indian broke out
laughing as we stood looking dumbfounded. "Thank you for what you
have done, we will be back someday." I said. "You are welcome." the
old Indian replied. Bear went to hug the old Indian who quickly rapped
Bears knuckles with his pipe. The old Indian was more than aware of
Bears strength and did not wish to be crushed in a happy embrace."
"Upon leaving the reservation we decided to stay in America which
was our homeland anyway, with the exception of Bear. Bear did not
mind as he had no relatives to speak of but a single aunt we would
occasionally visit in Austria until her death in the early sixties.
We moved across the states hunting vampires for the church, occasionally
traversing into Mexico helping down south."
"Decades passed and the war we had so carefully waged before was now
being lost. Good hunters were being killed by the overwhelming numbers
of the growing Vampire Nation. With the technological age the vampires
advanced even more quickly than before. Encrypted communications,
safe houses, banking networks, an endless supply of weapons and new
initiates willing to do their bidding. Vampires had their hands in
virtually every major business across the globe. Cutting deals like
damn executive sharks they work to endlessly promote their master's
will over mankind. Meanwhile we were sitting on the sidelines just
trying to keep up. It was like the drug wars of the eighties. We eventually
drowned out gunned and resourced. Our actions didn't seem to matter
anymore."
"To make matters worse the Vatican had been infiltrated. It was found
that a high ranking bishop was working for the vampires feeding them
Intel about the Vatican's hunters. This forced the Vatican's underground
operations to restructure in a way that cut ties with all non-internal
assets. If the Vatican didn't know where hunters were located or currently
operating, then unscrupulous insiders couldn't feed the vampires that
information either. Although this was a positive turn for the vampire
hunters it also came with a major downside. We would no longer receive
direct support and constant supplies from the Vatican's wealth of
resources and knowledge. We had entered a new age in a new century
with an enemy that held all the cards. It was time to do or die."
"We finally decided we needed a fourth wolf in the fire. We needed
our team back together. We needed to be whole again. Ever since Wolfman
died we just weren't the same. As we struck out to search for a new
leader, we also decided to build up our resources as well. In the
past we made contacts and would work with them occasionally when the
need arose. This time we wanted everything to be in-house. On demand.
We were reacting to everything the vampires did. By recruiting and
using in house resources we would become proactive, tipping the scale
against the vampires when we battled. Instead of getting lucky finding
a few bloodsuckers after a great amount of footwork, we would break
into their businesses and networks tearing our way from the inside
out."
"We searched endlessly, culling talent worldwide. When we were good
to go and had built up our assets we started running hits against
the vampire's lower level operations. Monitoring how the vampires
reacted, we then networked with trusted hunters passing off information
imperative to hunting in this day and digital age. Instead of destroying
the vamp's computers in a hit we invested in hacking them. Breaking
into the vampires networks we were able to finally see the majority
of what we were up against."
"Needless to say, ignorance had been bliss. The vampires reach exceeded
our wildest expectations. We knew they were big into major corporations
and business. What we hadn't figured was the heavy trail in smaller
business venues from nightclubs to cops to real estate. Even if we
managed to take down a powerful sect of vampires within a city, they
had too many cockroaches operating underneath them. It would only
be a matter of years before the vampires fully regained a foothold.
It was time to stem the tide of the vampires and their dark lord's
corruption. We needed to start striking hard giving the vampires no
reprieve, no rest, no mercy. But first we needed that special someone
to lead us."
"We compiled a list of extraordinary trouble makers as the Vatican
had done with us many years ago. We closely examined a select few
and started checking names off the list. When it came down to it we
had three killers left on our list. You were one of them. We found
you would be in Brazil for a weekend so we decided to make a trip
of it and whack some vamps while taking in the sights."
"Unfortunately we got lost on the way but found that you had encountered
our mark instead. When we finally got to the site we were worried
that you had been killed. After closely examining the area we concluded
one man from your team was still alive. Due to you burning your boy's
bodies we weren't sure whether you had perished with your men or not.
We hacked your government's networks but could not find a conclusionary
report. That meant the op was still in limbo. So we searched the local
areas you might have holed up in, finally finding mention of a dirty
gringo in a little pissant prison in the next town over."
"We had Bear go into a local bar smacking some of the locals around
prompting a rather large bar brawl. He let the authorities cart him
off to jail where he promptly made you. He gave us the signal from
his cell w
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