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Monday, October 1, 2012

The Lens (16)

William had hoped against hope that Eliot would not call on him and his coven again, so when that dream was shattered by a visit from his new employer he hoped still that in the last minutes before the fighting started, they could all just walk away. His coven was too few to lose on a fool’s errand. William certainly did not want to sacrifice his men to protect a human of all people, who was haunted by some demons. Nothing here seemed ordinary. He was deep in the woods staring at a tall house off the beaten path. It was modern, which is in stark contrast to the desolate location. There was a garage, but no cars had been seen all day and there was no traffic along the roads either. It made sense that demons wouldn’t use them; they could just magically appear inside the house at will. Then there was the smell, which to a vampire is a warning, even though they caught the scent of human blood it felt tainted. Their noses were not as keen as a werewolf but it did not take a hound to know the people that lived here were not on the menu. The night was growing older now, entering adolescence; this would make the fight that much harder for the coven if they had to retreat from the sun before their job was complete and they would not get a second chance. They had camped out in caves and under specially made tents just watching and waiting. They were all restless waiting for this moment. There is a sudden rush of energy that fills through William. He knows the blood pact was taking its course. The coven was sufficiently near to him and as long as they were close by he and the rest of his kin would benefit from the pact he made with Eliot. It will be the only thing standing in between them and a pitiful execution by the demons. The rush of strength begins to overwhelm him. It floods through him in such a way that it reminds him of when blood used to course through his veins. It invigorates the hollow recess that was once occupied by a soul and beats on his chest with a rhythmic pulse like the beat of his long dead heart. His skin hardens, his eyes grow sharper, and his senses probe for danger miles away without prompt. The ancient magic of the pact has all but brought back to life these retched creatures. They will not wait longer for instruction, and even if William can contain his coven for another moment he may not be able to contain his own bloodlust until then. Eliot appears beside him in a way only William can see. “The time is now.” Whether he anticipated this response or just the sound alone was enough to set him off, William and his coven in the pitch black of night descended onto this house in total silence.

Monday, September 24, 2012

Late Arrival (15)

Sean turns the page of his book with his left hand. With his right he balances a throwing knife, its point resting perfectly still on his finger tip. He had not the time for a good read in a great while so in the few moments of peace he won with the toss of a coin he felt it was well deserved to practice escapism. The weapon was there just in case, although it was unlikely there would be trouble in the house tonight, for whatever that is worth. The change in the air is just so slight that few would have noticed, however the air was Sean’s realm and should one enter it you would not see Sean undisturbed. His hand tilts to let the blade slide, it rights itself in midair and without even looking Sean sends it flying across the command center into the hall.  

Sunday, September 2, 2012

Dreamer (14)

Alicia had made herself quite at home these past few days. Since it had occurred to her that the only people on the planet that could have a chance to save her sister lived in this house she swore that she would learn everything about them. That meant pummeling Sean with question after question about this monster and that. Her curiosity even drove her to hear the gorier stories Sean and the others had to offer, and when a chance arrived at seeing a monster interrogated she didn’t even flinch. This was especially interesting to Scott who had only recently met her. He didn’t quite see how she was so drawn into their world this fast, despite the loss of her sister and the resurgence of her as an evil entity. He had figured she would turn away when the punches started to fly and the human looking fellow in the chair was beaten to a pulp. He saw himself proven wrong, for Alicia was in this to the end. There were quite a few times the expressions she made led Scott to believe she was a second away from asking to help torture Collin.

Monday, August 27, 2012

Unprecedented (13)

The first thoughts in his mind were: There is no chance that was a dream. Marko lifts the covers from on top of him while swinging his legs over the side of the bed. When his feet land he feels the carpet beneath him. He sighs as the recognition of his bedroom is made all the more clearer. But angry as he was, there is always a silver lining, he was angry. They hadn’t gotten his anger, and since he was just about always angry these days that would serve as an internal check that he still had an ounce of humanity left in him.

Sunday, August 19, 2012

Ode to the Owed (12)

Not for nothing, but this was starting to seem like it may not end well for Marko. The lure of the gate had become even harder to resist then when he first stepped into the cage. Colors were starting to bleed together and his sight was slowly fading in and out of focus. Ben kept vigil over him from as far a distance as he could offer. After a short bout with his hearing Marko realizes that Ben is no longer speaking to him, but through him. The voice was in his head, purely transmitted by some telepathy. “I know you can hear me champion. It will not be much longer now. You have exerted all your own power trying to hold this post, but you alone are not enough the same as I alone am not enough to escape this tomb. The gift will take over to preserve its champion, and then we shall see what sort of gift you have been granted in earnest.” Fantastic, risk my remaining emotions on a whim, how can this not work out for the best? “Have you no faith?” Asks a demon…

Sunday, August 12, 2012

The Blade Master (11)

The gates of the compound slowly open as Ian makes his way up the winding road. He could have folded space more directly and appeared inside the estate but just because he was a champion didn’t mean he was lacking in manners. Once inside the grounds, clandestine guards were finally visible. Today they wear suits and talk into microphones like a federal agency, but in years past they dressed in armor, or even togas (weather permitting). Regardless of garb they continue to be some of the world’s best security forces capable of high profile details like escorting foreign dignitaries to and fro, they have even been known to aid a president or two. These master guardians are the arm of the Blade Master, each one of them an exceptionally trained warrior. The Blade Master led the organization but at a moment’s notice any one of them could take over as the next heir to the empire. As Ian was told there had been one family, a long time ago, who bled power into a single member; he would gain all their knowledge of weapons to add to his own, ultimately making him a true master of arms. Today the exact number of families in the drawing for Blade Master was unknown to the general public, but they came together from all over the world and worked towards a single goal: make the greatest warrior mankind has ever known. You couldn’t apply for admittance to this club, no the chance at the title is a birth right and they kept very close track of the blood lines which flowed through their contestants so they know just how much knowledge is hidden in any one member.

Sunday, August 5, 2012

The Other Game of Kings (10)

Brussels? No, whatever the accent Marko couldn’t make it out. Not now, not then when the events he was dreaming actually took place. The air hits him quickly unleashing the scents of a bakery as the light fog, long forgotten, crawls to life amidst the sounds of a busy street corner. Their trip was supposed to be a vacation, their much earned vacation, a fact that to this day bothered him when he thinks back on how their little get away ended with a dead state official, two unpublicized national incidents, a meter attendant needing an exorcism, and although they thwarted a kidnapping there was werewolf of unknown origin still at large today. So how does all this foreknowledge of coming events change Marko’s perception on what he was dreaming? He stares vexingly in the direction of a man with the funny accent chatting up the server, which delays his chance to order and impress Rebecca with his broken French. “Hun,” she begins. “It’s ok, really, don’t get stressed so early into our trip. Just be impressed we actually snuck away under the radar. And that we made it to France.” Marko turns to her for the first time since the trance began; his eyes immediately begin stinging as he does so. As if he needed the reminder that he was actually sitting in a plane while this specter is running its course; he knows tears are welling up in his eyes. In this fleeting moment he is still very much enamored with the woman before him, so much so in fact, that he plays the scene exactly as he did before. “This was a good plan. You know Eliot totally got a lock on us the moment we landed…” Rebecca rolls her eyes, “Ok yeah, but we still got away from like ninety percent of the world.” Marko smiled whole heartedly, “And that is all thanks to you.” He made a motion as if going for his glass that wasn’t there so that he might toast to Rebecca, and completed the maneuver with her making a “clank” noise signifying the meeting of their invisible drinks. Following their antic, Marko turns impatiently back towards the server to see if she caught the subtle message. She did not. “Patience, beloved. Patience,” says Rebecca. Beloved...