"The Redeemer: Episode One" By;Fjm(Abby Sarita photos)

The Night screams for a release from its pain.  And who could blame it?  I have spent many nights lying alone, trying to find a release from the pain I feel deep inside myself.  Often I wonder what the hell was I put on this earth for?  To mate? To feed? To kill?
            The alarm clock in my room goes off.  I’m lying on the floor, it’s 8 p.m.  I have a really bad headache; probably from all the beer I drank this morning.  I’m more of a night person: sleep during the day and do my business at night.
            Empty beer bottles scatter around my apartment floor.  On a small table near me, I’m surprised to see I didn’t use up my entire stash of heroine.  Must have been a good morning, since I usually do all that I have in one night.
            Ah, breakfast hath arrived.  A small roach is crawling on the floor near me.  I quickly grab him up and eat him.  Mmmm, crunchy, just the way I like them.  Disgusting, no?  It’s a bad habit, I know.  But it was really fun at high school to freak people out like that.  Yeah, I was every woman’s dream date…tall, dark, and completely abnormal.
            I get up from my place on the floor and look at my laptop computer.  It’s flipped upside down in a chair.  I pick it up, flip it over, and turn it on.  When the system quickly boots up, I check my e-mail.  No messages, no surprise there.  I’m only called when needed…besides, it was Sunday night, and they know I hate to work on Sundays.
            I live in/own a crappy apartment complex on the bad side of town.  It’s basically a safe house for pimps, whores, drug dealers, and some of the awesome psycho’s in the Atlanta area.  I don’t really do anything here but sleep, read, and collect rent money.  There’s a guy named Jack who lives on the bottom floor who takes care of all the technical stuff for me.  Hey, I pay him good for doing all the work.
            Out the window I can see it’s going to be another miserable night.  Before I went to bed this morning, some dark clouds were rolling in from the East.  Now the streets were wet, but there wasn’t a cloud in sight.  For once, I would actually like to see all the stars in the sky.  Even on a cloudless night like this, you can’t see any stars because the city lights are so bright at night.  Hey that rhymed, cool.
            I took off my old clothes and threw them on the floor with the rest of my stuff.  In my closet I found a black and white KoRn t-shirt, red pants, and I always wear these large combat boots.  I have a large wallet chain that hangs down a couple of inches below my right knee.
            In my dresser with the broken mirror, I found some more white bandages, I use them to wrap around my arms from my elbow to my palms.  Cover up the scars I have from all those times I took sharp objects and made a vain attempt at torment.
            I also wear a large silver ring on my right hand, and a large gold ring on my left hand.  The silver ring has an emblem of a dragon on it.  The gold ring is just an ordinary gold ring.  Both of them are very old, probably worth a lot, but their worth a lot more to me.
            Around my neck I wear a spiked dog collar.  Quite the conversational piece if you ever around a bunch of stuck up snobs who act like personal expression is a sin.  My nails are painted black and purple: black for my dark mood, and purple is the color of Insanity.  Fits me well, I guess.
            So here I am, dressed and ready for another night.  On my way down the stairs (we don’t have an elevator), I meet up with Jack.  He’s in his late 30’s, just as much of an alcoholic like me.  He lost his wife ten years ago to cancer, and he’s never been much of a human being since.  But like I said, I pay him well for all the work he does.
            He tells me some little things about what’s going on in the apartment complex.  Nothing that I could really give a damn about, but I guess I have no choice but to listen.  Or maybe I could be real mean and blow him off, tell him I don’t care about this place or him.  Yeah, that would be the way to go.  Then he would quit and leave me with all the work of this damned place.
            “Hey man, I’ve got a very important meeting shortly.  Why don’t you write this up for me in a letter and I’ll get back to you, okay?” I said.  He smiled, nodded, and said, “Sure, Boss.”  I hate extra work.  I also hate it when he calls me “Boss”, but why ruin the mood.
            Locked in a very expensive personal garage in the back is my bike.  It’s a large three-wheeler that I pumped up with power.  To tell you the truth, I think my garage and bike is worth more than the apartment complex (probably worth more than all the people living in it, too).
            Out I was, riding on the streets of Atlanta, GA.  I’ve been living here for about three years, but I do travel a lot.  As I ride to the office, I begin to think of all the places I’ve been to in the last year or so.  Paris, London, Rome, Italy, Russia, New York City, and LA.
            The streets are still crowded from the day.  Most people are kind of like me, I guess.  Sleep by day, live by night.  Go out and party, get drunk, get laid, and do it all over again the next.  Must be nice to have a life that fits into a perfect little cycle.
            I drive to one of my favorite hangouts, a cemetery.  I park my bike around back and jump over the fence.  I walk among the wet trees and on the damp grass.  The cool air breezes by me, giving me a brief thrill of the night.  I lean up against one of the older trees, putting my face against it’s wet bark.  I whisper “Tell me your secrets, tell me you love me.”
            “Hey, over here!” a girl yells out.  A group of two girls and two guys have wondered into the cemetery.  “Look at this grave, it looks really cool!”  “A grave cool?  What are you Shannon, a vampire?” one of the guys says.  Shannon leans over on the guy and gently bites his neck.  “Baby, I kind of like that,” the guy mumbles out.  “Maybe later I suck on something else,” she says to the guy, and of course, he smiles with excitement.
            The other girl is carrying a book bag.  She sits on one of the tombstones and puts the book bag on the ground.  The other guy opens the bag up and pulls out wine coolers.  Just more underage teenagers getting drunk.  Whatever happened to studying on Monday nights?  Jesus, who am I kidding, I spent almost every day getting high when I was in school.
            “So what are we suppose to do?  Tell ghost stories?” the other girl says.  “Or maybe we could channel the dead?” Shannon says.  She reaches over into the book bag and pulls out a Quija Board.  Oh this just keeps getting better and better.
            She sits it down on the ground and says, “Come on.”  “What the hell?!  You really are a vampire, aren’t you?” one of the guys says.  Shannon says, “Shut up damnit!  This is my sister’s.  She’s into all that gothic stuff, and she says this thing really works.”
            After a few more wine coolers, they gather around Shannon with the Quija board.  “Oh spirits of the night, I call out to you!” she says.  The other three in the group start laughing.  Shannon yells, “Shut up and be serious!”  They stop laughing and she continues.
            “Oh spirits, come to us!” Shannon says.  “Shannon, this crap aint never going to work!” the other girl says.  “Maybe if you would shut up, then it would work!” she yelled.  Shannon asks the board, “Am I going to pass the eleventh grade?”
            To their surprise, the board begins to move.  “Holy mother of God! It’s working!” the other girl says.  “What’s it spelling?” one of the guys asks.  “Y-O-U-R-A-L-L-G-O-I-N-G-T-O-D-I-E”.  They were silent for a few seconds, then Shannon yelled out “Your all going to die???  Oh man!”
            The air shifts, a certain uncomfortable feeling drifts in the night air.  Shannon looks up from the board and sees me standing between two trees.  My eyes are glowing a purple color, like a black light.  “Boo said Casper,” I said.
            “Who is that?” the other girl says.  “My name is Mary, and I’ve seemed to have lost my sheep, do you know where they are?” I said.  By now, they are all standing up, trying their best to make sense out of life, but their too drunk.  “He’s a wimp,” one of the guys said.
            “What you see is what you be.  Know not what you do, because your soul is through.” I said.  The other girl says, “I’m getting the hell out of here!”  They all follow her and start running for the exit.  When they reach the front gate, it closes shut before them.  “You called out for the dead, now it’s on your head!” I yelled.
            “I don’t know who or what you are, but will you just leave us alone!” Shannon said.  I laughed and said, “I’m in a gloomy mood, very depressive I stood, so just leave me alone, but I break your bones.”  The gates open up again and they all run to their car.
            Teenagers, go figure.  Maybe on some nights I would have had more fun with a group of girls like that, but I’m really not in the mood for it tonight.  In fact, I’m already bored of being in this home of the dead.  I hope on my bike and begin riding again.
            Time for work.  There’s a club on the south side of town called Miserable Delay.  Very popular among head bangers, Goths, and freaks. The bouncer at the front door already knows me, so he lets me in.  The music is playing so hard and loud I can barely hear myself think, which is a good thing.
            In the back, there is a locked door that says “Employees Only”.  I take out a key and unlock the door, which leads to an elevator.  The elevator has a special key slot, and I use my key again.  The elevator goes two levels down, and opens up to a hallway.
            I knock on the door that has a symbol of a skull with crossbones on it.  From inside the room, Stephanie yells out “I’m busy, go away!”  I laugh real loud and yell back “I’ve lost my sheep, can you help me find them, baby deep?”
            The door unlocks and opens.  “My god, you’re still alive after Sunday?” she says.  I grin and respond, “That sarcasm will get you no where.”  She grabs me by my dog collar and yanks me into the room.  She shuts the door behind us and says, “What the is wrong with you?”
            “Where should I begin?  My childhood was messed up, high school sucked, dropped out of college, I’m addicted to heroine and alcohol, and…” she interrupts me by saying, “Damnit Ezekiel, you know what I mean.  Last Thursday, the job with the priest.”
            A priest was raping a 14 year old girl after ever Wednesday night service.  His reason: He told her he had to knock the demons out of her.  Told her that if she said anything, Satan would have her soul and she would burn in Hell forever.  It was my job to show him some…reason…
            “You were supposed to scare the evil out of him, make him realize the error in his ways.  But noooo, you just had to carve ‘I abuse kids’ all over his body.”  “He looked pretty scared to me.” I responded.
            “Geezuss, I don’t even know why we put up with your crap,” she said.  I smiled and said, “Because I’m the best, unlike all the rest, I have the power, to tower, over the evil, and beat their devils.”  Stephanie sits down in her chair behind her desk and sighs.
            Stephanie “Cosmo” Blinks is a 25-year-old woman who has the body of Playboy Playmate.  She not only runs this club, but two others across Atlanta.  And if that wasn’t enough, she’s also my contact.  She gives me the information I need to get my job done.
            Something very bad happened to her in her past, but she has of yet to inform me of it.  She has a dark mood, almost like mine, but she’s more anger driven.  I work from insanity, not anger.  The obvious reason that comes to my mind is that her parents abused her.  But for some reason, I get the impression that it’s something more twisted than that.
            “What is with you and those idiotic rhymes?  They don’t even make sense,” she asks.  “Maybe I’m just the hopeless romantic type.  Maybe because I took literature and arts in college.  Maybe I just like to voice my mind in rhymes.  I guess we’ll never know.”
            “Just die” she says sarcastically.  I always respond, “When and where, baby?”  And like always, she rolls her eyes with disgust.  What can I say; I have that effect on women.
            “So what’s up next, honey?” I say with a sadistic grin.  She answers, “You’re free until Wednesday.  Be here at noon for discussion on your next assignment.”  “Noon?!  I’ll be wasted by then!” I said.  She laughs and says, “I know, but orders are orders.  Now stop wasting my time and get the hell out.”
            Before I leave, I look back at her and blow her a kiss.  “Love you.” I said.  She sticks out her tongue and flips me off.  I always leave her office with a smile.
            Well, this is a semi-good thing.  I have the rest of tonight and the next day off.  Yummy.  Maybe I should pay my dealer a visit…or maybe not.  I think he overdosed last night, too bad.  He was smart, if you can call a drug dealer smart.  His sins may have finally caught up with him.
            On the road again, I head to his house.  His name is Charlie Brown (Yeah I know, the comic strip guy.  Trust me, they have nothing else in common, although he did name his dog Snoopy).  When I pull up, I can see his stepsister looking out the window.  Before I can knock, she already has the door open.
            “Is he still alive?” I asked.  She said, “I think so, it’s kind of hard to tell.  His eyes are all yellow and stuff, and he keeps coughing up blood.”  I walk to his room and find him crouched up in the corner.  “Hey Charlie, what’s up?” I ask.
            His body is shaking and trembling very badly, he’s probably in shock.  I look around his room and find a small medical bottle and some needles.  When I said he was smart, I meant that because he has a diploma in Chemistry.  I met him in college.  He’s always trying to find the new “perfect” drug.  Guess maybe he failed.
            I pick him up off the floor and lay him down on his bed.  “Come on man, speak.  What the hell did you take?” I ask.  He just continued to shake and tremble, I couldn’t even tell if he knew where he was.  His eyes had a shade of yellow in them, and bloodstains were around his mouth and chest.
            His stepsister, Loren, stepped into the room and asked, “Is he going to be alright?”  “I’ve seen Charlie in worse states than this,” was the only response I could think of.  Truth is I wasn’t sure if he was going to pull out of this one alive.
            After about thirty minutes, his body began to calm down.  He eventually closed his eyes and went to sleep.  He was going to leave, and he was going to have one hell of a hangover whenever he woke up.
            I went into the kitchen and got a beer.  Loren sat down at the kitchen table and said, “There’s some left over Mexican in the fridge if you want some.”  I shook my head and said, “I don’t eat anymore.  The drugs, sex, and rock n’ roll keep me fed.”  She smiled as if I was joking, but truth was, I really couldn’t remember when the last time I ate…besides the occasional roach.
            “You’ve still never told me what you do for a living.  I know you have money, I’ve seen the type of stuff you get from Charlie,” she said.  I sat down across from her and answered, “Ever think that maybe I don’t want you to know?”  Again, she smiled as if I were joking around.  I wasn’t.
            “Well?  Are you going to tell me?” she said with part of that smile still on her face.  “I’m a supernatural person with twisted personalities who works for the government by handling matters of the paranormal.”  She laughed really loud and hard.  “Damn man, I knew you had an imagination, being a poet an’ all.”
            I smiled, stupid girl.  “You know, I think having an imagination and creativity is sexy,” she said.  I grinned and said, “I bet you say that to all your brother’s clients.”  As if on cue, we started hearing Charlie cough.  He called out for Loren, and I said, “Go on, and check on him.”  She got up from her seat at the table and went to go see her brother.  I’ll be gone by the time she gets back.
            Damn this awful weather.  Rains like hell for a couple of hours, then it gets all hot.  I’m beginning to think that God has lost his grip or something.  So, what’s next on my to do list for the night?  Ah yes, I think one of the whores living in my apartment owes me a favor.

            The Music bangs really loud, the sound bounces off the walls with hard force.  Her nails dig into my flesh, but I love the pain.  She moans and screams, and I just grin and laugh.  I’m Teri on the floor of her apartment.  Music from the band SLIPKNOT is playing.  It’s almost completely dark in the room, except for some candles that she always lights.
            We finish after two hours.  God blessed me with stamina for pain and pleasure.  Maybe the only thing I think God for.  She’s lying on her couch, still naked, and smoking a joint.  I’m doing push ups in the center of the floor.
            “Damn baby, aren’t you worked out enough?” she says.  I laugh real insanely and respond, “No, not yet.”  The aggressive sounds of SLIPKNOT have stopped playing.  Teri says, “Hey, did you know DOMAIN is coming to town?”  When she said that, I stopped doing my push ups and just sat there on the floor.  I said, “No, I didn’t know…”
            Domain is a killer rock band, maybe one of the loudest and heaviest.  I even know the lead singer for the band, Michael Zilch.  We’ve crossed paths on several occasions, never on good terms.  Funny thing is, I can’t remember when I first met him, or why I have this uncertain anger towards him.  I use to think it was because of my job, and him being a bloodsucking vampire.  But something seems amiss.
            I give Teri a goodnight kiss and leave.  The wind blows through my hair and face as I ride my bike downtown.  I enjoy riding, gives me time to think about things.  I would say I’ve had a pretty good night all in all.
            As I get half way downtown, my pager starts to go off.  It’s Stephanie at the club.  I stop at a fast food restaurant and use one of their parking lot pay phones.  When I call, Stephanie picks up, but doesn’t say anything.  “I just love the way you say hello.” I said.
            “I thought I would warn you, there’s a guy coming in tomorrow morning to evaluate you,” she said, ignoring my joke.  “Because of my encounter with the priest?” I asked.  She said, “What do you think?”  “Just let him know I’m not much of a morning person.”
            “He already knows…he was hanging around the club for a minute, then he left.  Stayed just long enough to talk to me and pick up a hooker,” she responded.  “Ah, the pleasures of the flesh.  By the way, when was the last time you had…?”  She hung up the phone.  She just loves me, I know.
There wasn’t really anything left for me to do.  But I really didn’t feel like going back to my place.  I stopped back by the cemetery, but there were no more drunk annoying teenagers to pick on.  I thought about going to some club, but I really wasn’t in the mood.
So, I decided to go out and look for trouble.  Let the beast inside of me out.  I parked my bike in an alley and began to wander around the streets, looking for victims.  The hunt has always brought a sense of peaceful torture to my wrecked soul.
            I witnessed a pimp drag one of his whores behind a hotel.  A few seconds later, I heard a crashing noise and her scream.  He had broken open a beer bottle and was now attacking her with it.  I hid in the shadows like a disease waiting to be infected.          
            My growl came from shadows, which caused the pimp to stop his assault for a brief moment.  The whore lay on the ground, crying and bleeding.  “You have no hope of survival in my dark and twisted carnival.” I said.  I stepped out of the shadows, my eyes glowing yellow, my hands in the form of three sharp claws instead of fingers, and my teeth sharp like a vampire.
            “This isn’t Halloween, man,” the pimp said.  I laughed and responded, “To me, every day is Halloween.  Places I’ve been, horrors I’ve seen.”  The pimp rushed over towards me and tried to stab the broken beer bottle into me.  I grabbed him by his throat and slung him to the ground.  He got right back up and attempted to attack me again.
            When he came at me this time, I grabbed each of his arms and popped them out of their sockets.  He screamed with incredible pain.  I put took hold of his jaw and ripped it from his face.  He made a loud gurgling noise before he fell to the ground unconscious.  Was he dead?  I really didn’t care.
            The whore was hiding behind a trashcan, crying and watching with horror.  I quickly kicked the can away and picked her up.  I slung her against the hotel back wall and tore off most of her clothing.  I rapped her then and there.  She didn’t enjoy it, but I did.  Her body was covered and smeared with blood from her pimp’s attack.  Right before I came, she passed out.  I left both of them behind the hotel.
            Once I calmed down and the adrenaline stopped, my body returned to its “normal” form.  I returned to my apartment and shot up the rest of my heroine.  I fell asleep lying in the same spot I woke up in.  Life lost all meaning to me a long time ago; there was nothing for me to look forward to the next day, nothing to wake up to.

The Next Day
            There came a rapping, as if someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.  The knocking woke me from my slumber, which really pissed me off.  I stumbled up and made my way to the door.  I yelled, “If you want money, you can kiss my butt!”
            “Let me in, Ezekiel!” Stephanie yells from the other side.  I unlock the door and let her step inside.  “What the hell are you doing here?” I asked.  “Late last night there was a threat left at one of my clubs, a threat from Domain.  A threat from Michael Zilch,” she said.
            “What kind of threat?” I asked.  She reached under her long black coat and handed me a bloody piece of paper.  “It’s rat blood; the note was stabbed into a dead rat,” she said.  The bloody note said, “I’m coming for you, Ezekiel Leon.  I’m coming for you and your government.  I’m coming for you all.”  It was signed by Michael Zilch.
            I handed her the note back and said, “You call that a threat?  It’s practically nothing.”  Stephanie rolled her eyes and said, “You know anything that comes out of Zilch’s mouth is to be considered a threat.  You should know that of all people.”
            I lay back down on my spot on the floor where I was sleeping.  “If Michael wants to start something, let him.  I can handle anything he throws my way.  Until he makes a move, just don’t worry about it.  Let me take care of this.” I said.  “Go away, Ezekiel.  You’re just a drug addict who’s pissed off at the world.  You can’t handle a damn thing,” was her response.
            “Glad to know somebody in this world cares about me.  Don’t forget to lock the door on your way out.” I said.  She left, but didn’t bother to lock the door.  She just wanted me to get back up.  Michael Zilch didn’t threaten me.  He was just a messed up vampire, a leech upon society.  If push came to shove, I’m confident I could take him down.
            Night came, and with it, heavy rain.  For two hours I just stood at my apartment window looking out at the dreary city.  I thought about my plans for the night, but I had none.  It was going to be another boring night, except for the fact I was suppose to be evaluated on my performance with the priest.

Story of the Fallen Priesthood
            I could already tell that this night was going to be loads of fun.  The Church of United Way was a very big church.  A few years ago it was just a small gothic looking church, but then someone donated money to the church, and it was completely rebuilt.
            The priest of the church was Joseph Kane.  In the view of society’s blinded eyes, Joseph Kane was a perfect citizen.  He was a priest, helped out at charity functions, and helped with raising money for a newer and safer playground for the children.  But beyond his veil of goodness, lay a monster beyond any of their imaginations.
            One of his many believers and followers was a 14 -year old girl named Jessica.  She was a model Christian, even at her age.  She didn’t smoke, didn’t drink, didn’t have premarital relations, made straight A’s in school.  Yup, everything was good in her life.  Except for her high gullibility, especially from an overpowering priest like Joseph Kane.
            At first, it was just touching and feeling.  But it quickly moved onto something else.  Father Joseph Kane told the girl that he had to check her for demons, and that he could feel them in her flesh.  And the only way to get rid of demons in the flesh?  Push them out.
            Usually, the good priest did his unholy duty on Wednesday nights.  But Jessica had skipped her session with Joseph Kane.  Being the good man that he is, he went to Jessica’s house to check in on her.  She told him that she wasn’t feeling, that she was feeling sick to her stomach.
            Now was my time to interrupt.  I had been watching this case for the last two weeks.  And now I knew something, that Jessica was pregnant by the raping priest.  I also knew that when he found out, he wasn’t going to let his little secret get out into the public.  He would have killed her if he had the chance.
            Father Joseph Kane took Jessica up to her bedroom (her parents weren’t home).  He was planning on raping her again, no matter how sick she was feeling.  He laid her down on her bed and began to unbutton her shirt.
            Suddenly, the bed began to shake and rumble violently.  The priest jumped back and Jessica screamed.  The tried to leave, but the door was jammed shut.  I was under the bed, hiding like a diseased rat.  I tipped the bed over on its side, causing Jessica to roll over on the floor.
            I was in my beast form.  The adrenaline in my system had caused me to change over.  I had lost all my sense of reality and reason; I only thirsted for misery and pain.  I stood up and said, “The demons have come to reap your unholy soul, sir!”
            The priest reached into his pocket and pulled out a crucifix.  “May the light of God compel you!” he yelled.  I laughed, grabbed his hand, and broke every bone in it with my grip.  He screamed and fell to his knees.  “Such a pitiful man, you are Father.  I expected more from a child rapist.”
            He spit in my face, which only enraged me more.  I picked him up and dragged him over to Jessica.  “I want you to tell her the truth!  Tell her what you do is wrong!” I said.  He looked straight into Jessica’s eyes and said, “Do you not see the demon that laid within you!”  He was calling me a demon…how thoughtful of him.
            I tossed him through her bedroom window (her room was on the second floor).  I could hear some of his bones break when he hit the ground.  I leapt out of the window and landed near him, but I was unharmed by the fall.  I reached under my shirt and pulled out a large knife.
            “Damn you to Hell, demon!” the priest yelled.  I said, “What?  You’re calling me the demon?  You’re the one who’s a poor innocent child!  I am nothing more than your redeemer!”  “Redemption always comes at a price, bastard!” Father Joseph Kane yelled back.  I jumped on top of him and put the tip of my blade at his nose.  I laughed and said, “You are so very right!”
            I spent the next few minutes carving “I ABUSE KIDS” all over his body.  From the window above, I could see Jessica watching.  She was crying and holding on tight to a teddy bear.  Father Kane struggled under me, but I knocked him out to keep him from screaming so much.  I left right as the police pulled up.  They never saw me.
            When I came home that night, I used that same bloody knife to cut open my arms.  Somewhat of a ritual after my missions.  I cut deep enough to leave vicious scars, but I never die.  I’ll bleed all over the floor, but I never die.  Why?  I do not know…God’s little joke I guess.

            Stephanie’s club was booming tonight.  I changed clothes before I came, into a black ADIDAS shirt and black ADIDAS pants to match.  I still had white bandages wrapped around my arms, and the spiked dog collar is always a must.
            Down in the secret area of the club, I met up with Stephanie.  She was looking beautiful as ever.  “Mr. Evens is waiting for you in my office,” she told me.  I shrugged and walked to her office door.  I asked, “Are you joining us?”  “Normally I wouldn’t give a damn about you, but it’s required that I sit in on these little meetings,” she responded.
            I opened her office door and saw a tall skinny white guy sitting behind Stephanie’s desk.  “Sit down, Mr. Leon” he said.  He called me by my last name. I hate it when people call me by my last name.  I sat down and said, “I bet you had a good time last night, after picking up that hooker and all.”
            “We just talked,” he defensively responded.  I laughed and said, “Yeah, sure ya did.”  “We are not here tonight to discuss my behavior, we’re here to discuss your behavior,” he said.  “Which behavior?” I grinned.  I just now noticed that Stephanie was standing in the corner.
            Mr. Evans picked up a folder from the desk and opened it.  “Ezekiel Leon, age 23, born in New York City.  You are classified as a Doppelganger Level 2.  You are wanted for murder in the city of New York, for killing your own wife and daughter.”
            I didn’t say anything.  That brief memory of that moment flashed into my head.  Their blood on my hands and their screams still ring in my ears.  In the corner of my eye I could see Stephanie staring at me.  Maybe she expected me to burst into a sudden rush of rage and kill Mr. Evens.  That thought did cross my mind, but I restrained.
            “You were accepted into this organization after you took out a house of vampires.  Tell me about that, Mr. Leon,” he said.  I shook away the memory of my family and proceeded to answer him.  “A little over a year ago, I witnessed a vampire kill a little girl at a shopping mall.  My other form surfaced and I followed the vampire back to its house.  The house was three stories tall, a moment to darkness within itself.  The whole house was filled with a ‘family’ of vampires.  I took them all out.”
            “You’re a very dangerous creature, Mr. Leon,” he said.  I responded, “Yeah, and you’re really starting to piss me off by calling me ‘Mr. Leon’.  You don’t want to see me when I get angry.”  “I wouldn’t recommend threatening a higher officer,” he said.
            “Look in that damn little folder, I’m sure somewhere it will tell you that I don’t give a damn about this organization.  I’m only in this for the money and the fact I have nothing left to do.  So, if you give me a reason, I will rip off your head.  Make sense?” I said with red glowing eyes.
            “Let’s talk about your performance with the priest last week,” he moved on to a different subject.  Smart man.  “What about it?” I asked.  He said, “Your orders were to go to him and just threaten some sense into him, to make him see the light about his actions.”
            “Oh trust me, he’s seen the light now.  I doubt he’ll ever want to sleep with a minor again.” I said.  Stephanie looked down at the floor, something was wrong, I could tell.  “That priest went back and killed that girl,” he said.  Those words hit me like a sword through my stomach.  Was it because of my actions that the priest became enraged and killed her???
            I didn’t say anything.  I just sat there, looking down at the floor.  A roach crawled by my feet and I squashed it.  “You have new orders now, Ezekiel.  You are to find the priest, wherever he may be, and terminate him for his actions.”
            “You want me to kill a priest?  I thought that was against company rules?” I said.  “It is.  But as of yesterday, Mr. Joseph Kane was kicked out of the Priesthood.”  I smiled and said, “Goodie.”
            “I just have one more question, then you can go.  Do you think you can redeem yourself?” he said.  I looked straight into his eyes.  He was asking me if I was trying to redeem myself for my family’s murder.  I stood up and said, “Ashes Ashes, we al fall down.”  I left without saying anything else.
            Back upstairs in the club, Stephanie caught up with me.  “Where are you going?” she asked.  I said, “I have orders.  Why didn’t you tell me that the Joseph Kane killed little Jessica?”  “I didn’t think that you would care,” she responded.  I looked at her for a moment, but then I just left the club.
            I roared my bike down the streets.  Inside, I am filled with anger and misery.  I couldn’t get that question out of my head, was it because of me that Joseph Kane murdered Jessica?  Whatever the reason, I was going to find Joseph Kane and rip his lungs out.
         
            Late at night, there is a single bus heading out of town.  There are only two people on this bus, the driver and ex-priest Joseph Kane.  He has packed up and is leaving for a small town in Florida.  He is unaware of the vehicle that follows behind them.
            Loud music plays from the vehicle behind the bus.  A loud heavy music, so loud it causes the bus to vibrate a little bit.  Joseph Kane has always hated those punk kids who play their music so loud you can’t even hear yourself think.  He turns and looks out the back window.
            “Oh no,” he mumbles to himself when he sees me riding right behind them.  I grin at him, allowing my other form to take control of my body.  The monster in me has surfaced.  I leap from my bike and grab onto the back of the bus.  The driver slams onto the brakes and pulls over onto the side of the road.  I rip off the emergency exit door from the back and enter into the bus.
            “You again, demon!” Joseph Kane yells.  The bus driver reaches under the dash and pulls out a hidden gun.  “Why did you kill her?” I ask.  “She was going to tell everybody about what I did!” he yelled.  I grab him by his throat and lift him up off his feet.  “You’re an infection that needs to be cured, Joseph,” I said.
            The bus driver starts shooting me.  The force of the bullets causes me to drop Joseph Kane and stumble backwards a couple of steps.  Blood runs down the wounds.  I grab Joseph Kane again and rush out the emergency exit door, with the bus driver continuing to shoot at me.  Only one bullet manages to hit me this time, in the back of my right shoulder.
            I quickly run over to my bike, dragging Joseph Kane along with me.  I get on my bike and take off.  Down the road, I keep dragging Joseph Kane.  He screams and begs for me to stop as the cement scrapes his skin off.  He had used makeup to cover up my carvings, but now his blood and sweat was washing the make up off.
            I take a quick turn and sling him away.  He flies through the air and slams into a building wall.  I turn my bike around and charge it towards him.  As he stumbles back up to his feet, I hit him full force.  He blow knocks him into the air, where he does a couple of flips before landing back down on the ground.  I get off my back and walk over to his body.
            “I can still hear your breathing.” I said.  He rolls over, his entire body covered with blood.  I kneel down next to him and say, “Was it redemption that drove you to kill Jessica, or fear?”  “Redemption…?” he asked very softly.  A large piece of glass was stabbed into the side of his throat.  “Yes, Redemption.  Did you feel you had to justify your sins by killing her?  Try to erase what you did,” I said.  He mumbled out, “…Fe…ar…fear…”
            “But of course.  Fear that drives you to kill, to destroy, to conquer your demons, to run away from your sins.  I’m going to let you die now.” I said.  I use that piece of glass sticking his throat to completely slash open his neck.  He chokes to death on his own blood.
            Back at my apartment, I stumble through the door and collapse onto my couch.  I take off my shirt and look at the 4 bullet wounds in my body, plus one in the back of my right shoulder.  I slowly walk into my bathroom and find my pliers.  I use them to dig into the wound and pull out each of the bullets.  I do not scream from my pain, I wouldn’t want to wake the neighbors at this hour.
            After I’ve pulled out each of the bullets, I clean and bandage the wounds up.  I walk back into the living room and fall down onto the floor.  On a small table that sits near my couch, I can see my heroine.  I crawl over to it and smile to myself.  A brief relief from the misery, my escape.  I shoot up the heroine and daze off into Never-Never Land.
           
            I don’t wake up until two days later.  I stumble around my apartment, still dazed and confused from the drugs.  I check my e-mail and find a message from Mr. Evans congratulating me on my mission.  After every mission I complete, Stephanie is given $1000 in cash as pay for my service.  I smiled at the thought of payday.
            For the first time in a while, I actually took a shower.  I tried to wash away all the disease and filth from my body, but nothing could wash away my sins.  Not even God could help me now.  I got dressed, in normal black clothes, wrapped more bandages on my arms, and I went out onto the streets.
            I didn’t get on my bike, today I decided to walk.  I always feel kind of strange after I’ve killed someone.  When I say I, I mean this body.  I have no control over what the beast inside of me does.  I can only sit back and enjoy the show.  My supernatural strength and speed comes from that dark creature buried within my body, mind, and soul.
            Once again I find myself in Stephanie’s office, staring at her body, wanting the flesh that hides beneath her clothes.  She hands me a yellow envelope, inside it is $1000 cash, in hundred and twenty dollar bills.  “When is Jessica’s funeral?” I asked her.  I knew that she knew.  She knows everything in cases like this.
            “Tomorrow at three o’clock.  It will be at you’re favorite cemetery,” she said.  “The one near that old gothic church?  Cool,” I replied.  I stood up from my seat in her office and proceeded out the door, but right before I left, she said, “Try not to cause any trouble.”  I gave her the finger and left.

            Later that night, I happen to be near Clown’s Arcade.  It’s a popular hangout for freak teenagers.  I go in and play a few of the games, beating everybody who challenges me at any of the games.  I spend hours in this place, watching life flourish, watching teenagers go on about their lives.
            I step out back and light up a cigarette.  A few seconds later, I hear a girl scream from inside.  “What now?” I said.  I didn’t put out my cigarette, but kept it in as I went back inside to see what was wrong.  In the center of the arcade, the crowd seemed to be backing away.
            Michael Zilch was holding onto a girl, biting down into her neck and feeding.  He looked up, his eyes glowing green and his mouth smeared with blood, and he said, “Welcome to the party, pal.”  I rushed towards him with rage and anger.  Before I could attack, he revealed that he was holding a blade up to the girl’s neck.
            I stopped and said, “Do you really think I care about the life of some stupid girl?”  He laughed and said, “If you didn’t, then why did you stop?”  I lowered my head and let the beast inside of me surface.  My powers came with a sadistic rush; my body shifted and changes into the monstrosity that is my inner workings.
            Michael began stepping backwards to the door.  “What are you, chicken?” I asked.  He said, “No, not at all.  But I have bigger plans for you.”  He then started running with the girl still within his arms.  I raced after them, out of the arcade and into the streets.
            The girl screamed, trying to free herself from Michael’s grip.  I pursued them into an alley.  Michael stopped and said, “What if I just kill her?”  I replied, “Then I will rip you limb from limb.”  He laughed and threw her into a garbage dumpster.  I charged right into him.  We both went flying through the air until we slammed into a brick wall behind us.
            He laughed as I held onto him.  “Is that all you have, little demon?” he said.  I picked him up and slammed him down onto the ground.  I attempted to stomp on his head, but he grabbed my leg and slung me away.  He quickly got back up to his feet and was on top of me before I could do anything.  He stabbed his blade into my rib cage.
            I roared with anger and wrapped my hands around his neck.  With all my might I tried to choke him to death.  He mumbled out, “What are you doing? I’m already dead, I don’t need to breathe!”  He stabbed me again in my rib cage, but this time I couldn’t ignore the pain.  I let him go and back away from him.
            “Come on, I know you can do better than this!” he yelled.  I growled and said, “Go to Hell!”  I was bleeding very badly, but Michael was just standing there laughing.  I decided to make one more attack at him, to rip out his heart.  When I charged at him, he countered by slicing open my neck with his blade.
            I held my bloody hands around my own neck as I fell to my knees.  Suddenly, a light shined down the alley and a cop yelled “Stop it right there!”  Someone at the Arcade must have called the cops.  Michael ran straight for the cops.  They told him to stop again, but when he didn’t, they began shooting.  The bullets didn’t even stun Michael; he just jumped over their police cars and kept on running.
            An office came running up to me, he asked, “Hey man, are you alright?”  I looked up at him with my yellow glowing eyes and said, “Do I look alright?”  The office yelled, “Hey, call an ambulance! Quick!”  While he was looking away, I reached over and took his gun from its holster.  I shot him twice, a bullet in each leg.  He screamed and collapsed to the ground.  I got back up to my feet and started running for the brick wall.
            Bullets were shooting all around me from the cops.  I leapt up onto the tall brick wall and jumped over.  I ran through a few more alleys until I was finally back on the streets.  Somehow I managed to find my way home.  There was a party going on somewhere in the apartment building.  I made it to my apartment and collapsed on the floor, not really sure if I would still be alive when I awoke.

"John Doe:Crusaders-Prologue"BY;Fjm

It was a cold night as Derek got into work. With a headache from the night before and a bad cold, his moral was low.
 He didnt talk to anyone much as he walked down to the morgue, the front receptionist was never that talkative anyway. He never really had the skills that were necassary for much social interaction anyway. He moved down the corridors of the hospital, as if he was a shadow, not leaving a trace that he was even there.
 It was dark in St Lucian Memorial Hospital at this time, and it was as if a blanket of quiet had been layed over the entire building. It was usually quiet at night, the night shift not being known for its over-activeness other than the odd drunken buffoon being brought in for alchohol poisoning. One of the reasons that Derek got involved in Pathology was to get away from the unfortunate aspect of the medical career, which was the patients themselves. It was much better for him to deal with them after they were already dead.
 However this was a different kind of quiet. This was a complete absence of anything. There were no ticking noises emanating from the clocks and there were no creaks from the floors or the walls, in fact there was no noise anywere. It was a complete absence of noise. This was a predatory silence, that was waiting for it"s time to strike. To Derek however this fact was blissfully unknown to him. He just went about his usual routine with his same usual efficiency. What did he care if it was unusually silent, what was there worth hearing anyway.
 He walked right past the lifts (They had been out of order for weeks, not that Derek noticed at all. He never used them anyway), heading towards the stairs. He descended the stairs two at a time. This was all a part of his routine. It hadn"t changed since he"d been here. There was no deviation, it was all a part of his every day life.
 As he came to the bottom of the stairs, the lights flickered soundlessly, and a shadow crossed along the far wall. Derek paid it no heed, there was no reason to. He knew everything that was down here, and there wasn"t anything unusual to him. Most people would at least have looked in the direction of the shadow, but not Derek. He just couldn"t see the point. What interest could a shadow hold for him. He wasn"t a naturally curious person, things were the way they were and that was that.
 He reached the morgue, and got ready for his shift. From the little that the receptionist actually did say to him as he arrived at the hospital, the mortuary technician had called in sick. Stuart was never that reliable anyway. In the two years that he had worked with him, all he had ever talked about was how cute all the nurses were. He was never very interested in these trivial conversations, a fact that Stuart was blissfully unaware of. Derek was just a humanoid shaped soundboard for him to relate every minor and insignificant thought that happened to pass through the vacuous region that was his head. Derek was glad of the brief respite from his company. It meant he could get on with his work unhindered.
 People could be so distracting sometimes. Stuart was a prime example of how stupid and useless most people were. They were glorified sheep, unable to think for themselves. That was what the politicians were for, and even they were as dumb as a single celled amoebae. The only people who were worth Derek"s time were the dead kind, and they weren"t very big on conversations.

 It took Derek about ten minutes to get scrubbed down, vigorously scrubbing his hands clean. These were the tools of his trade, and they should be treated with care and attention. It took him an extra five minutes to get into his scrubs, and an extra two to log onto the NHS system. This was yet again all a part of his intricate routine, there was no room for deviation.
 The Hospital records showed that three bodys had been admitted to the morgue.
 The first was a heart attack victim. Mr John Greenwood had died on the operating table, a minor slip up by a junior level surgeon that would most probably end his career before it had even started. Derek was used to the inner political workings of the medical board, it was how he had got his five year residency at St Lucians Memorial Hospital in the first place. The young surgeon would most probably be used as a scapegoat to cover up the fact that the attending senior surgeon hadn"t spotted his mistake and corrected it in time, or that he had even allowed him to take a leading role in the procedure in the first place.
 The autopsy on Mr Greenwood had already been done by a senior level forensic pathologist and his attending mortuary technician, earlier on in the day. Derek went through the pathology notes on the computer anyway. It never hurt to check over a colleagues work, just to make sure there were no mistakes made. However as usual Dr. Stallin was as precise as ever. It was no surprise as he was a specialist in many different fields, including Forensic Pathology and Biomedical Research.
 The notes suggested that the patient had suffered from a secondary heart attack while on the operating table. Perhaps the young surgeon had been granted a reprieve from his mistake. Whether it would make him more cautious in the operating theatre, or whether Derek was doomed to see more victims of the young doctors scalpal in the morgue, was yet to be seen.
 The second body to be admitted was a DUI victim. From the little amount of information on the screen, Derek guessed that it was a pretty straight forward deal. The body of the woman had been found two meters away from her car, which was wrapped around a tall oak tree. There had been two other passengers in the car. They both survived (Most probably because of the fact that they had there seatbelts on, and hadn"t been catapulted out of the front window at 110 mph) and they were now both resting up in intensive care.
 The woman had already had the preliminary forensic tests run on her. Derek opened up her file. Her name was established as Elizabeth Harvey. She had a BAC result of 0.23. Derek was surprised she could even get in the car let alone drive it. She had enough alchohol in her system to open her own brewery. Another look at her blood test results, revealed that miss Harvey was a Haemophiliac. There was one more factor of why miss Harvey hadn"t survived the crash.
 The third body brought in was a John Doe. He was a young boy of about fifteen years in age who had been found in the canal. Derek found it odd however that there was no other information in his file. Surely a case like this would require an immediate autopsy to confirm the cause of death, so that the police could put together a proper investigation on the boys death. Derek knew this should have been the procedure, and as it was shown with Mr Greenwood they had already had access to an excellent pathologist that day. However as he reminded himself, the employees at this hospital rarely did things in an efficient manner. It was possible that the boys case had simply been forgotten for a more trivial case. It wasn"t important now regardless, Derek would finish off the work that someone had been too inefficient to do anyway.
 Derek got back to his routine. An extra five minutes to wash up again, a doctors hands could never be clean enough. A pair of gloves and a quick inspection of his tools and he was ready to begin.
 An hour later and he had finished with the first body. Miss Harvey had been an ordinary and very unoriginal case. She had gone headlong through the window hitting her head on the concrete as she landed. She had died of a massive brain aneurysm causes by blunt force trauma. If she hadn"t already died of that, she would have died of massive blood loss. She should have wore her seatbelt, she shouldn"t have been drinking and she definately shouldn"t have been driving a car. Put it down to yet another case of the disease known as stupidity.
 Now it was on to the boy. Derek was surprised to find that the body was quite clean. In fact for someone who was meant to have been found submerged in the murky and unclean waters of a canal, he was surprisingly spotless. Why would someone take the time to clean the boys body and not perform an autopsy at the same time. On a cursory sweep of this John Doe, Derek was puzzled. The primary sign of asphyxiation were not there. There was no cyanosis of the skin, indicating Hypoxia, and Derek doubted that he had been submerged in a body of water for any length of time recently. There had to have been a computer error with the boys file. Derek decided to find out before proceeding with the autopsy.
 He went to the phone, and dialled the number for reception. After the tenth ring the receptionist answered.
 "Hello, reception here. Shelley speaking how may I help."
 Her bored and rather irritating chirpy voice got on his nerves, and he was glad that he didn"t have to converse with her on a regular basis.
 "Hi, its Derek."
 "Derek who?", The way she said this Derek could just imagine the stupid look of confusion plastered on her face at that moment.
 "Derek Jederan!" He decided to add more detail, just in case she still didn"t understand and he ended up being stuck on the phone with this dim-witted airhead for an hour still explaining who he was (Which was a distinct possibility) "Doctor Derek Jederan, down in the Morgue."
 "Oh", He could hear the fake comprehension in her voice, and knew that she really hadn"t a clue who he was even though she"d been working with him for nearlly a year, and the fact that he had past her on the way down here, just over an hour ago.
 "I"m just finishing off my last autopsy for the night, and I was wondering if you could help me with something?"
 "I"m sorry, but I"m not contracted to help in the Morgue."
 Derek rolled his eyes. For a layman, she was surprisingly hard for Derek to fully understand. He just couldn"t understand how her thought processes worked.
 "No, not that kind of help. I was wondering if you could pull up the records for the John Doe I have down here on your system." He was really hoping she could grasp this simple request, though he really did doubt it was possible "I"d just like to see if there was any mistake made with the report."
 "Ok, just give me one second", He could hear the usual chirpyness reappear in her voice, and it grated on the inside of his head.
 He could hear the sound of her distant clicking, and was surprised at the speed at which she typed. Well, he supposed someone of her type would have to be good at typing fast otherwise how would she be able to catch up on her daily amount of gossip.
 "Hello?", Her voice came over the receiver in a questioning tone, as if I would have gone anywhere.
 He decided to answer her anyway, "Yes I"m still here."
 "I"ve tried to pull up those files you asked for but the only files I can find for the Morgue, are the files for a Mr Greenwood and a Miss Harvey." She actually sounded like she knew what she was doing, Derek was impressed. But it was confusing to him how she could get into the right area of the hospitals files and completely lose the files he wanted.
 "How is that possible, I just had the files up on my computer down here" He tried to keep his frustration out of his voice, and failed abyssmaly.
 "I"m sorry Doctor, but there just is no file on the system for a John Doe admitted today" She said this in a monotone voice that sounded like it came right out of a hand book on how to deal with difficult patients, and it probably did, "is there anything else I can help you with?"
 "No thank you, I think I"ll be ok now," He slammed the phone down. He could imagine the look of incredulity on her face right at this moment, and he smiled. If he needed any more help he"d be sure to ask the photocopier next time.
 He decided to look again himself. He removed his gloves and moved over to the computer. He opened up the Morgue files and looked for todays files.
 There were only two files there.
 How could this be? He"d checked the files an hour ago, and there were three files. Where had this John Doe"s file gone. Derek just couldn"t understand it. He turned towards the boys body, and wondered what kind of mystery surrounded him. This just didn"t seem right. Files went missing all the time, it was just an inevitability of working with incompitence and with an outdated computer system. But this seemed just plain wrong to him. There was no physical flaw on this kid.

 Derek went to check the kids pulse again, just in case he had been mistaken when he checked it earlier. There wasn"t one. Derek couldn"t understand why he had even checked. He wasn"t used to checking his work twice, it just wasn"t something he naturally had to do. He didn"t make mistakes, it upset his routine if he did.
 There was a sudden clashing sound behind him, that made him jump. He turned around, to find that his scalpal had dropped on the floor. He couldn"t even think why he had jumped now. He wasn"t naturally edgy. What was there to be jumpy about. He turned back towards the John Doe.
 He just couldn"t figure it out. Everything was off here. He didn"t know why, but he knew it was something to do with the boy. He was an impossibility. He shouldn"t excist. He was suddenly filled with an insatiable urge to get rid of him. It would be better for everyone if there was no trace of this boy at all.
 He shook his head. That thought was ludicrouse, what harm could this boy do in the end. He was dead. Besides if he disposed of the body, how would he explain it to his superiors. He had already talked to the receptionist about him and though she may be just an airhead, doubtless she would be able to bring her head out of the clouds long enough to tell someone in the hospital about there conversation.
 Best to just leave the boy in his refrigeration unit until tommorrow and ask Dr. Stallin about it. Derek moved over to the boy and was about to push him back in when there was a movement behind him. Derek turned quickly, to find that there was nothing there.
 He was begginning to get annoyed with himself. He didn"t get like this. Paranoia was for other people, it was a stupid trivial thing. He didn"t need to get paranoid about anything, there was nothing there.
 He turned back towards the boy, and screamed. The boy had opened his eyes.

''Meet Nishanti"BY;Fjm

Meet Nishanti"

They tramped down the slop leading to the stables. When they reached the enormous stables Nico stopped and turned to face her.
"Right, Kiddo." He started as he unbolted the giant gate of the huge archway entrance. "I want you to meet someone quite dear to me."
She raised her eyebrows; not that much was 'dear' to Nico. Whoever was in here must really be quite close to him, she felt a pang of jealously that was completely uncalled for. They entered the building and shortly exited through another door that lead into a sort of courtyard that had the backs of the stables as the surrounding walls and an entrance to the forest as the opposing 'wall' to the door. The stable had everything that would be expected to see in a normal stable and more, it was filled with equipment of various purposes and the noises of horses. There was the smell of equines, hay and straw which Andros found pleasant as she sniffed at the air.
"You must never go her without me, Andromeda. Do you understand?" Nico suddenly barked sternly at her. She nodded in confusion, what would cause her harm here? They were only horses, surely?
"Who are we waiting for?" she asked slowly as his soft expression returned at the perplexity on her face. He grinned and gestured her to follow him as he moved over to the wall, she obliged and they leaned against the wall that the door was on.
"My horse expert." He sniffed. "He'll be with us in a moment, he's just…" he paused for some reason unknown to her and the grin widened. "… tending to a mare."
Tending to a mare …Interesting, to Andros this was quite odd and with the little smile that played on his lips it was beginning to sound like someone was up to some 'funny business'. She eyed him as he tapped the tip of her nose affectionately with his finger, like a parent would do to their children. Then she faced the door as she heard the sound of hooves approach it from the other side, heavy hooves.
What she saw next that stepped out of the dark doorway of the Stables and into the bright morning sunlight shocked her beyond words. Now, she had heard many a tale of such a creature that was now walking calmly out in front of her but never did she think that she would actually see one. "Centaur…" she gasped in awe and at the sound of the tiny utterance one of the creature's ears flicked to their direction and it's head snapped round immediately after.
"Andromeda, meet Nishanti." Nico introduced him (well, she presumed it was male from the fairly obvious endowment visible that a horse stallion would posses.) smugly. "Nishanti, this is Andromeda." Andros attempted a sheepish smile to the huge man/ horse creature before her, it was not returned. However what was seemingly present on his face was an expression of midst confusion and interest.
He had to be one of the most beautiful creatures she had ever seen- besides Nico, of course. His skin was an odd ivory-like colour that made the vampires of this place look tanned; however it seemed to work and blended in with the fur of his horse body, being the same colour. His horse fur was incredibly white as was his ridiculously long silky hair and tail; he had a metallic sheen to his coat not unlike the Akhal Teke horse and as he had stepped out into direct sunlight it shone like liquid fire with its iridescent gleam. She ogled at the sheer size of him and the amount of power that was clearly noticeable in the muscles of his legs. He was built like a draft horse, not too dissimilar too a Clydesdale horse or Boulonnais and probably about the size one, and was probably had the same strength of one too; human and horse end alike. He must have been about 20 hands tall if measuring by normal horse standards to his withers and, if adding the human part of him too, must measure roughly 11ft-odd tall. He was enormous and she felt rather belittled by him as he began to slowly moved towards her with obvious caution. He inclined his face towards her until it was just above her level before her. If she had to describe him in two words they would have to of been Power and Beauty. Despite his musculature and heavy appearance he moved with gracility and grandeur. She looked directly into his eyes as he observed her silently. Not only was his body- human and horse equally – literally stunning but his face was too; his eyes were large and of the most electric blue, similar to those that may be found on a Siberian husky. The skin immediately surrounding his eyes were a pale pinkish tinge and where his human ears should of been there were long white horse ears poking out between curtains of his silvery hair. His shimmering tresses were also covering his hooves as long silky featherings.
As she stood there gawking at him he snorted quietly and backed away a few paces like a ghost; he was so quiet that he didn't seem to actually be touching the ground at all now that he was outside.

7-An Old Friend"

I was walking again through the wilderness of the Mordjar, like some days before with Jeren Osten… like some years before, when my search began. This time, for the first time in centuries, I felt I was close. With the help of Mr. Osten and the ancient scrolls he provided to me for analysis, now I had the key to unlock the cloaking spell protecting the “artifact”, as I called it for so long. In addition, I was able to… acquire… a magical map that is no doubt the key to the vault where the most important thing in the whole world has been hidden. According to my interpretation of the magical runes, changing shape with the closeness to the sanctuary, I was close…



“So, you finally made it here. I missed you..” said a sensual female voice behind me. “Happy you did, my dear Delystra. It’s good to see you again, after all these years. Thanks for your help in hiding my presence from Havelock and his minions, it would not have been easy without your power in addition to mine.”



“Oh, it’s been my pleasure  Arctorios. Anything for you” replied the woman. She was more beautiful than ever, her deep black eyes brighter, her long, light green hair falling well below her waist, her attractive silhouette… morbid curves… the ageless face of a “Dark One”, as we are now called. “So… did you find it?”

“Yes, I believe so. It should be hidden here in Mordjar, under my nose for so long and yet impossible to find without the tools I recently retrieved. The only thing I have to do now, beside reaching it, is to defeat the Guardian and take it. It’s Rebirth in the Year of the Dragons, we must hurry. It can happen anytime now…”

“Indeed we must” replied Delystra, her pensive smile so typical of her, making her even more attractive. “Arctorios… what do you think will happen next? I mean… there are so few of us left… the Order grows stronger and stronger, they take us down by sheer number. And then there is Havelock… do you really think finding this “artifact” can change all this? Give us a fighting chance?”

“Time will tell, my dear. First things first. In any case, once we will have it, all the Elven people will join us, not only the few who remember the Great Invasion and how we helped them. Any news of the others?”



“Kamirog and Berala have been killed. They were surprised in their mountain halls by a whole army of the Order, almost two seasons ago it seems. They fought bravely, and killed some hundreds of them, but in the end they have been overwhelmed…”

“I’m sorry Delystra, I know you and Berala were very close. Their death is a huge loss for our cause. What about Voriath? I doubt he’s as easy to find…”

“Last time I heard of him, I was scrying the Capital and I overheard a conversation among townsfolk… it seems our younger friend has become a Master Thief, famous all over the Kingdom. The passion for gold and valuables, so typical of our race, is particularly strong in him” laughed she.

So, he became a thief, how amusing… well, at least he was alive, and following an optimal strategy, even: hiding in plain sight. I hoped with all my heart he stayed safe, at least until time would come to go out in the open and reclaim what was ours by birthright.



“You still did not ask about Vysanya, old friend” the pensive smile on her lips becoming a sad one “Do you still love her?”

“Is she well?” I tried to keep my tone neutral… tried not to think to her, to her hair red like flame and her eyes bright as the sun of Late Rebirth…

“Oh, she is most probably … I would know otherwise. But you know her Arctorios, and you know where her heart lies.”



Yes, I did. Vysania has always been weird according to our race standards. Where our kind is normally calm, insightful and reflexive, she was impulsive, rash and headlong… we normally are conservative, and we love wealth. She disregards any possession and she cares little for our tradition and our rights. And there lies the trouble. While the others were united in our purpose, she openly declared her neutrality and her disregard for the coming war. According to her, our time is over, our age past, and we are fools if we hope to rebuild our influence, our bright empire anew. Truth be told, after the Great Invasion that scorched the world, the demons left nothing of our glory, but we few that survived still believe… but not her.  After that speech, I’ve never seen her again, and every time I hear her name I cannot help but remember… remember what we were…and remember  what we can be no more, after that day.



“Yes, I know. I will not stop just because she disagrees with us, but I confide she will do the right thing and join her kind, in the end.”

“Ahh, Arctorios, my dear… you have always been an idealist and an optimist… a very dangerous combination, if you ask me!” there was no joy in her laughter. It is hard to love someone whose heart belongs to another woman. I felt sad for Delystra … I felt she deserved so much more… but it was something I could not give to her. Yet, I could perfectly understand the feeling of void inside, of loss. I experienced just the same, and I was likely to experience it for all my immortality. It’s hard for us to change our minds.

Maybe it is our only weak point, the only problem with long lived creatures. We resist change. We are absolutely unable to adapt. Ages go by, and we are still the same. We suffer… we fight… we experience… the whole world around us changes, and yet we do not, all in all we are always the same. The elves have that problem too, I noticed, though their immortality has its limitations, unlike our.

After some centuries of reflection and observation, I came to believe that mortality is what brought the Age of Man upon us. Their knowledge that their life is going to end, and so soon even, like a spark of light in the darkest night, drives them to achievements difficult to foresee in the beginning. They strive for improvement, every next generation building on the basis left from the ancestors… a mechanism we do not need, and yet that has proven so effective for them…They are fascinating creatures, I almost feel sorry we will have to crush all who oppose us. Sorry that they will be caught between us and Havelock… Humans would say “between anvil and hammer”. I like these words, there’s wisdom in them.

But enough reflections, I had to prepare for the Guardian. “Time is our enemy, my dear. Let’s go”. And without an explanation for my long silence, I headed where the map suggested me, with Delystra right behind me. The time freezing spell affecting the “artifact” was about to end, and I had to be there at that moment.

"6- The Diary"BY;Fjm

Year of  the Dragons, I day of Rebirth

I know they’re coming… I can feel it. They come for me… they come for the map. I am here in Cape Dawn since some days. I fled Drassis two week before the end of the Season of Death, during a mild snowstorm that, I hope, helped me cover my traces. And now I am hiding here… Before fleeing, I contacted agents of the Order and asked desperately for help, for protection, the only hope I have to escape my doom. But they won’t help me… not a miserable “converted”, like they call those like me, former worshippers of  the Land Mother Cult. They barely tolerate my life, if someone wants to kill me they can only be happy about it. They are not going to move a finger, to even bother… but they should. Oh yes. They have no idea how important it is for them that I do not fall into their enemies’ hands. I have to open their eyes, before the Destroyers find me…



Year of the Dragons, IV day of Rebirth

I sent a message to Drassis, directly to my contact working for the Order. The messenger is an unassuming cowboy, a young idiot no one would give a second look. Exactly what I needed. I would not have risked so much, it could betray my location and bring the disaster to my doorstep, but I had no choice. I grow more restless every day, I hardly leave my room and I cannot sleep at night. The nightmares… they are horrible, and I know in my heart they will become truth if I do not act to avert my fate. I hope  the Order will be interested in what I said of the map I possess and send someone to investigate the matter soon… even though they care not about me, surely they will not risk some information of THAT relevance to fall into the hands of the Great Evil. A noise outside my window… must unlit the candle…



Year of the Dragons, VI day of Rebirth

Many new faces today in the Tavern, I do not like it one bit. Maybe I’m becoming paranoid, but I can never be too careful in such a situation. Though I limit my trips out of my hiding place to the minimum indispensable, I still have to go out for supplies every now and then. In any case, I am still alive… I am still safe. Today I unrolled the map again, I could not resist to give it another look. It’s so beautiful, indeed drawn with magic. No ink, no artist would be able to do something like that. Though it’s a striking sight, I still cannot make out its meaning. Maybe in time…



Year of the Dragons, VIII day of Rebirth



The men of the Order finally arrived. Discreet and professional, I have to say. They heard me out, and they are evaluating if I am worthy of attention or not. Two are Black Capes, and two are ordinary agents (read lackeys..haha!). Black Capes are enough to discourage any kind of frontal assault, I think I am safe now… well, if they decide I deserve their time, that is! The chief is called Baelnon, the other Cape is Cyrus. The two agents are irrelevant, so I do not even bother to make contact with them. They still did not ask me to see the map, I do not know if it’s a good or a bad sign. Time will tell.



Year of the Dragons, IX day of Rebirth



This is it! Maybe after all they are going to take care of me. Baelnon sent Cyrus to investigate in Haven, and see if some of the information I provided is reliable. I do not know if any Herald of Destruction or their minions are actually still there, but traces of their passage should still be present and easy to discover for such a hound as a Black Cape. I trust this Cyrus will send back  word  I am precious to their cause, and Baelnon will find me a safer place than this to hide until things will settle down a bit. Maybe they will even let me worship the Land Mother again! No…that cannot be, it will never happen. If only they knew I wrote this, I would be incinerated on the spot…



Year of the Dragons, XI day of Rebirth



It seems like this Cyrus is approaching Haven traveling on land, not by ship or other watercraft. This is pure madness. Not only they are wasting valuable time, but everyone knows the Blade Mountains and Mordjar Forest are impassable, and only someone tired of living would approach that way. Why did they send me the most stupid members of the Order in the Kingdom? Damn it! I am not going to pay their idiocy with my life… if I don’t have news in a few days, I am going to leave this place, with or without escort. Moving is the only way to stay safe. Thrice damned Order!

Year of the Dragons, XVI day of Rebirth



This is not going well. A messenger arrived with a very fast boat today. I do not know what happened, but Cyrus was not on board, and Baelnon did not seem happy with the news. He said he would leave a message to Cyrus where he can find it, and that we have to leave tomorrow at the first morning light. If he is in such a hurry, knowing practically nothing with respect to what I know, then he must have glimpsed how serious the situation is. And that worries me. Well, soon it will be morning, so I have to prepare… Hmm, a faint noise outside… maybe those two stupid guards are not doing their job of keeping trouble away from my porch, let’s check what happens…



[ blood stains, burned paper and damage to the page ] here! Oh no! The Silver himself! I mus-

[the rest of the page is torn aparT)(

"5- The House of God"BY;Fjm

 As the door opened, the silver sword symbol of  the Order’s Faith splitting in front of us as the two door wings were pulled inward as if  magic moved them (and I can’t really exclude the eventuality…) , an incredible sight materialized before my unbelieving eyes. The room was huge, constituting the whole tower floor. The dimension was amplified by the near total emptiness of  it, relevant exception an ivory throne elevated about four meters above the ground, right in the centre of the hall, where the roof was forming the spike that constituted the highest point of the Cathedral. The pavement was made of some sort of white, polished marble reflecting so much the light that, although rather scarce, at first it was almost blinding me, while on the walls and roof was painted a stunning starred night sky, which was clearer and clearer towards the position of the throne, to become bright sunlight right above the throne itself. There, bathing under a powerful stream of light, was the Counsellor himself.

Though the architecture of the place, and the feeling, the atmosphere it created were impressive to say the least, the being sitting on the ivory throne was by far outshining everything I had ever seen in my not really boring life. Two things were suddenly fearfully clear to me: Edgar Havelock was powerful beyond his charge and authority, and Edgar Havelock was no human being. He was impressively tall... even if he was sitting I could safely esteem him even taller than Cyrus. He was wearing only white silk pants, leather boots and few pieces of a golden decorative armor to cover small parts of his bare torso and shoulders. But it wasn’t his size, or his powerful muscles, or his long, white hair that seemed to emit a light of their own to impress me. Oh no…Huge, white feathered wings were attached to his back, and were resting withdrawn, one each side of the throne. As we approached, he jumped down… four meters of flight, but with his wings spread out he landed light like a feather. When I met his supernatural glowing white gaze, my heart skipped a beat.



“I have been waiting for you. Speak, Cyrus” he said, in a calm, yet commanding voice. And, for the first time, I saw my companion removing the hood from his head as he knelt , revealing a handsome face with violet eyes and cinder blonde , short hair. I immediately followed his example, touching the ground with my knee and bowing my head, overwhelmed by Havelock’s presence. “I made contact with the Dark One named Arctorios the Silver, oh Holy One, but I am afraid I let him slip through my fingers. I was not able to best him in battle, but I identified two of  his agents. This man I brought to Your presence is…”



“Captain Dominic Gaan” he interrupted “ex soldier of the royal army, now a swashbuckler traveling the Kingdom, his sword for hire. I know you, warrior. This time, you accepted the wrong assignment” the cold indifference with which he pronounced the last words, made me understand even more in how much danger my life was. “You’re not unknown to me, swordsman. Don't be surprised, for very few things escape my sight, and never for long. I am the Herald of God, and this is his House. Very few mortals have ever seen me or this place and lived. We will see if you can convince me to make you an exception” the tone of  his voice and the implications in his words turned my blood into ice. I had to struggle with all my might not to start shaking. “Regarding the agents of Arctorios, I believe you refer to the elven girl and Jeren Osten. They are heading to Drassis, I expect them to be here very soon, and I want you to take care of them once and for all. Arctorios managed to cloak his presence…for now. The other Dark Ones are helping him, I can feel it. Those left alive are working with him, and we still don’t know what they’re after…” his voice trailed off, and he started pacing the room, seeming unaware of our presence. Then, a sudden thought struck me: how could he know all this? How could he know the two associates of  this “Arctorios”, or where they went? How could he know Cyrus didn’t discover anything else of value?



Suddenly, he stopped pacing and fixed his glowing eyes on me: “I know, mortal. It’s not for your mind to fully understand the nature of my powers. The important is , from your point of view, that what I can see in your mind makes me judge you useful, so you will go on existing. Fail me, and...first,I will kill you, then I will hurt you a lot.” I couldn’t even collect an answer, I limited myself to nod and I lowered my head, unable to sustain that stare, and the glimpse of what lied beyond it…

“It’s of capital importance” he continued, his attention to my companion again “ that you do not let the lies of the Dark One shake your faith with doubt. Remember brother Cyrus, that faith is our shield, and heretics and unclean must be purged, burned by its flame and dispersed like ashes in the wind, as the rising sun of God disperses the shadows of the night in its wake”



“Yes, Holy One” replied Cyrus with deference. “What am I to do now?” asked with fervor. “You will strike at our enemy brother, with righteous fury. I know that the elf named Jenesia and the former lord Osten will come here to Drassis in order to meet with Voriath the Shadow. I want you to follow them until they contact him, and then I want you to eliminate all three”. Voriath The Shadow…the legendary thief. Even admitting that he could be found (and all the city’s forces had no luck for years and years, while he goes on stealing the most precious and jealously guarded items in Ancient Quarter…), why would they want to contact him? And how could it be worth coming to Drassis, in the most dangerous place for them to be? They had to have a very, very good reason… but a reason I could not begin to fathom. In any case, it seemed like I would have met again with my former employer, and consequently I was probably about to have a chance to thank him properly for the mess he turned my life into…

“As you wish, Holy One.” Said Cyrus, breaking the thread of my thoughts.

“You may go now. I need to speak with God” said the Counsellor, turning his back to us, and disappearing behind his enormous, white wings.



“May his light shine down forever over mankind” replied Cyrus, which slowly raised, bowed once more and went out, with me on his heels. I was  relieved beyond imagination that I could put some distance and many walls between me and that supernatural gaze. We found brother Tarrin waiting  outside the massive door, and he escorted us to the outer gate in an enduring silence. By my side, I was in a daze. My head was spinning with questions, and I had seen too many unbelievable things in too short a timespan for my tastes… and there was that feeling inside me, that feeling that started some days ago, and yet a lifetime ago, when I was captain of the bodyguards of a nobleman in the small merchant city of  Haven, the day the shadows grew longer… the feeling I was trapped in all this beyond the will of the Order… beyond the circumstances of my involvement… I started to feel I had a part in this, and I started to realize I did NOT want a way out. I wanted answers… surprisingly, I was decided to go to the bottom of  it, against what reason was telling me, against my sense of danger, against the voice that kept me alive through so many dangers…and I had absolutely no clue why.

"4-The Way of the World" BY;fjm(Abby Sarita Photos.)(

And, Finally, we arrived. Well, no wonder I say finally…After an endless navigation on the Stream, in the end we reached Cape Dawn, a prominent city full of life, art and history, where the shipments from Port Nole, via Haven, reach the Main Road, so that the merchandise starts its journey by caravan to Drassis the Beautiful, called  The Wonder by many, a title as ancient as the place itself… but first things first. We stopped in Cape Dawn not even half of half of the time I would have liked to stay…I hoped to sleep, rest, entertain myself a bit and then go on with our “mission”, but my companion had other plans…I had just booked a decent room in a tavern, the White Boar, pretty nice and not too expensive, and I was already enjoying a restorating, long hot bath in my mind, when Cyrus came with two huge horses and a bag of rations and forced me on the road again. Destination? Drassis, of course. You see, since the Dark One escaped us, we didn’t even bother following him. Cyrus pointed out immediately that every attempt at pursuing him openly was bound to fail. So we gathered some data questioning Lord Osten’s servants and the local authorities for every “unusual” activity of my former employer in the last months, and  we investigated the Manor, with our attention focused mainly on the basement with the hidden room that hosted the mysterious creature named Arctorios. After that, my new “employer” judged we had nothing more to do in Haven, and  we left in a hurry for the capital.

In truth, we left for a particular place in Drassis, to meet a particular individual, which was the reason of my goose bumps… Actually, in normal circumstances I would be pretty happy to walk the streets of The Wonder, for more than one reason. First and foremost, it’s home. I was born in Blacklake, a village on the outskirts of the city, and I spent the best years of my youth enjoying the many pleasures and advantages the capital can offer. I’ve been gambling, drinking in taverns, attending shows in theaters, training and practicing combat in fighting schools, loving women and making friends there. Had the time of my life. Second, it’s a place I know like the back of my hand. When you’re in trouble, and I definitely was considering the circumstances, you gladly fall back in your environment. I knew every rock of the capital, from the Ancient Quarter to the Slums, where to walk and when, what to avoid, who to speak with to have things, who to trust… And third, who wouldn’t like such a city? Everything is within reach, on the streets you can meet every kind of people, and no one is ever out of place, or rejected by society… it gives you a huge feeling of freedom to stay there, and it’s something no one that steps through one of the main gates fails to notice.

But, and there lied the problem, we were not going to enjoy the city of splendors. Our destination was The Cathedral, the stronghold of the Order, and we were bound to report our progress to none less than the First Counsellor himself. You see, Edgar Havelock, also known as the Hand of Justice, is not quite the charmer, so to speak. Very few can claim to have had an occasion to take a good look at him. In the rare eventuality he’s spotted out of the fortress, he travels within a special carriage called The Silver Ark, dragged by four huge white horses that are chosen among the best in the realm. Yes, in the realm, for even our “good old” king Roderick Eysen bends to every Havelock’s will, since without the Order’s support he would lose the main pillar of his crown. Without the Order, there would BE no crown. It is said, that almost two thousand years ago, Edgar Havelock himself founded the Order and created the Kingdom, putting Balduran I Eysen on its throne and helping him defend his borders against occasional raids from orcs, goblins and worse. Now, those stories are regarded as fables, and the vast majority of people don’t really believe the founder of the order was Havelock himself, just one of his ancestors. And I would have agreed, some weeks ago, but now…

In addition, the nice Edgar is rather famous for his lack of tolerance and his iron fist in solving  sensitive matters. Whoever doesn’t believe in God (I mean the Order’s own version of  god) doesn’t live too long. Countless  well known “heretics” or “personae non gratae” have been killed or simply made disappear, and all the opposition to the Order’s systems has been cancelled with repression or key assassinations of the leaders. For example, the ancient Cult of the Mother Land, worshipped by countless generations of families, mostly farmers, hunters and shepherds, has been drowned in blood throughout all the realm, his followers slaughtered, fled out of the borders in other states or hiding in the countryside, their devotion kept secret. In addition, magic in the Kingdom has become an exclusive of the Order. Whoever possesses magic, MUST advice a Black Cape or visit one of the outposts of the Order to be tested. If his or her gift is strong enough, he must take the vows and join the Order. The alternative is death, and the execution is immediate, without trials of sort. There are cases of witches or wizards found by agents during routine “inspections”. They’ve been burned to stakes in public squares for everyone to see. The monopoly of sorcery is, of course, a decisive measure which grants the Counsellor  dead firm grip on the crown, reducing de facto the king to a puppet in his hands.

Of course, this approach brought even advantages to the people of the Kingdom. On one side, the Kingdom folks enjoy total peace since more than any man alive can recall: wars have been fought by our army to protect and aid allies, but never on our ground. That’s why the Order is a power feared even abroad, and a right fear it is. Not pleasant to see hundreds of knight wizards riding alongside your enemy, if you ask me… Then, there are matters of internal security: the level of criminality is wholly tolerable, trade and economy thrive and the succession of kings on the Golden Throne is totally insured by the magic and political weight of the Order, so that the realm never risks a dangerous and painful void of power like all too often happens in the other reigns. This is what made miracles like Drassis the Wonder possible: wealth and possibility of long term planning. All in all, it’s a situation you might even enjoy…if you manage not to mess with the Black Capes. Rather unfortunately, I didn’t manage.

The Cathedral, built at the very core of the Ancient Quarter, looks more like a fortress than a holy place. Six  40 meters high white stone walls about five meters deep form a perfect hexagon, with six fortified towers at the intersections. The main gate, totally made of dark steel, was lowered to allow us in, and closed immediately after we entered. We were welcomed by Brother Tarrin, a pretty small man wearing the black cape like Cyrus, but definitely less imposing a figure. He made way through the inner courtyard, where I noticed more fortifications and inner walls, till the central building, the actual residence of  Edgar Havelock. The difference was striking. The core of the Cathedral was a stunning mix of colored glass, golden, silver and platinum mosaics, ebony doors and a stone so white it could rival the clouds in a beautiful summer day. The building was taller than large, reminding me more of a tower than a normal building, with its roof culminating in a tall spike, on top of which was the symbol of God: the silver sword with the tip planted into the ground, with a rising sun behind.

Tarrin guided us through a maze of rooms richly decorated, an orgy of velvet, leather of all kinds, mahogany, cedar, ebony and ivory, all illuminated by the unearthly light filtering through the colored glass panels and mosaics. After endless stairs, flight after flight, we reached a massive silver door with symbol of God chiseled in it. Tarrin pulled a golden chain, bowed to Cyrus and took his leave. It was time. Though I was pretty worried, excited and had expectations of all sorts, nothing could prepare me for what I saw as the door slowly opened...