Demons and Werewolves

Demons and Werewolves

Date: December 31st, 2018.
Location: Big Ben St., London, England.
Time: 11:30 P.M.

A large, bulky man in a black rain coat and wide brimmed hat walked quickly down a short street, one of many in London, gleaming eyes searching the buildings around him. He stopped short as a strangled cry from a nearby alleyway drew his attention, his mouth frowning beneath a black bandanna that covered from the bridge of his nose down. He jogged into the alley, searching for the source of the cry. He didn't notice the body of a young girl until he was almost on top of it. His forehead furrowed as he crouched next to her, feeling her neck for a pulse. Finding none he withdrew his hand, crossing the dead girl. He noticed blood smeared on his hand, looked back and grabbed the shoulder to examine the neck. There were two punchers on the jugular, looking as if made by fangs.

“Victim number two,” he whispered darkly, his eye's filling with hatred and renewed determination.

He set the body down gently, then stood and walked back out of the alleyway, looking for the killer. He heard a crash further down the street and walked quickly in that direction.

“Where are you?” he hissed to no one in particular.

He turned onto the main part of London, right across the street from an old Christian church. He saw a small hint of movement in his peripheral vision and turned to it. He barely caught the movement of a shape climbing up the wall of the church to the roof. He ran over to the doors, and finding them chained, kicked them down. He made his way to the stairs, taking them two at a time towards a upstairs balcony. He rounded the corner and walked to the balcony's edge, eye's searching the large chapel. He spun, a large gun appearing in his right hand, at the sound of a soft voice behind him. He stopped at the sight of a nun and quickly slipped the gun away.

“Dear boy, what brings you to our church at this hour?” an elderly nun asked in a sweet but firm voice, “The door was chained shut by the elders. What business have you here?”

“Good sister, I come on grave business. I believe a Vampire is in or on the roof of this church,” he said in a rich bass, “I have been tracking her for three days now.”

“What shall I do?” she asked, fright coming into her eyes.

“Call the Elders. I will try to take care of her, but if I fail...” he left the rest unsaid.

The nun nodded and walked quickly away, heading to the dormitory's. The man nodded to himself and turned back to the chapel, looking for an access way to the roof. He found some stairs in the back and jogged up them to one of the bell towers on the roof. He slowly stepped inside, pulling out the gun again. Before he took a second step, a woman dropped in front of him, breath hissing through fangs.

“Greetings,” he said, tipping his hat in greeting.

“Hmm. Your hard to losse, Hunter, I like my victimss a little less persistent,” she hissed, her eyebrows coming together.

“I missed you in Edinburgh,” he stated, recalling the memory of there previous encounter.

“No, you did not,” she pulled up her shirt to expose two bullet wounds on her stomach not yet fully healed, “Those were nasty. Your too good of an aim.”

“Ma'am, in the past three days you have killed four men, two women and-” he stopped as she interrupted.

“You actually kept tabs? I didn't think you knew that much about me.” she smiled, mocking him, “I'll have to teach you to leave well enough alone.”

“I'd like to get this over with, so if you please.” he launched himself towards her, roaring.

He slammed into her stomach, knocking her to the ground. She snarled, rolling over on top of him. He grabbed a stake from his belt, thrusting it towards her chest. She grabbed it, smiling and used it as leverage to slam him into the opposite wall. He fell against the floor, the stake slipping from his fingers to clatter on the ground. He snarled, showing fangs of his own, then turned and fired several rounds at the girl. But she was no longer there. His bullets slammed into the opposite wall harmlessly. He strode forward, searching the room for the girl. Suddenly he was picked up from behind, the Vampires claws digging into his back, and thrown through the roof. He landed on the edge of the roof, hearing the concrete break and the dull pop of several ribs cracking. Before he could regain his feet, she landed next to him, picking him up and dragging him to the edge facing the city.

“Ah, London. Fantastic view, isn't it?” she taunted, stopping next to the edge.

He looked down the two hundred foot drop and felt the blood drain from his face. Before she could throw him, he grabbed her wrist and deftly snapped the bones with a quick twist of his hand. She dropped him, clutching her broken wrist, fury entering her eyes. She slashed at him with her uninjured hand, her inch long claws barley missing his face. He snatched her uninjured arm and twisted it behind her back, spinning her around and bringing them face to face. She struggled for a brief moment until she felt the cold steel of another stake at her throat. She went limp as a doll, her resistance fading.

“What did I ever do to you?” she hissed, her blood-red lips inches from his face.

“Absolutely nothing but give me a hard time finding you. My business is with the seven murders you've committed,” he sneered.

Before he could drive the stake home, she smiled and head butted him, briefly stunning him. He stumbled back, feet slipping and she took the opportunity to kick him onto his back, knocking the wind out of him. He groaned and tried to roll on his side, but she landed atop him, snatching the staked out of his hand.

“It was fun, Werewolf,” she whispered in his ear, lips brushing his cheek, “Perhaps we'll meet again, and hopefully under a different setting.”

“Don't count on it,” he snarled, attempting to kick her.

She blocked it, using the momentum to propel herself upwards. He sprang to his feet, one hand against the wounds on his chest, flaming red-black eyes searching for her. He heard laughter from above him and noticed her flying away, pale wings spread wide. He kicked a nearby wall in frustration, cracking the bricks, then bent to retrieve his hat and bandanna from where they had been torn off in the fight. He stuffed the bandanna in his pocket and turned to return to solid ground when a angry shout from below snatched his attention. Several people had noticed the body of the girl and had carried it to the center of the square. One person noticed his shadow in the moonlight and pointed, directing two policemen to his location.

“Grey Hawk!” a policeman yelled at him from next to the girl.

He put the hat back on, the moonlight shinning bleakly around him.

“Get Him!!” another person yelled as the policemen ran towards the church.

He frowned to himself, shaking his head, and jumped to a nearby building before the police caught him. He needed some help, since wounds inflicted by vampires had a nasty tendency not to heal right, or at all. After a few minutes of jumping from roof to roof he stopped, noticing a familiar building a few houses away.

“Ah. The Academy. Jackson better be home,” he said to himself as he landed on the roof silently and proceeded to a nearby staircase.
Π Λ Ξ Φ Θ Ώ Δ Ψ

Grey Hawk slipped throughout the hallways at the academy, looking for his friend, Major Jackson's, room. Jackson was one of the few people he knew he could trust with his secret. He passed several doors before he noticed the words Major Jackson inscribed on an ID plate next to a door only a few away. He put an ear to the steel door, checking for any sounds of others within. He heard the dull snoring and shook his head. Typical of Jackson to fall asleep at the same time as new years eve parties were being held down stairs. The same parties that allowed Grey Hawk to slip through the academy. He pulled the door open and slipped inside. Jackson was sleeping, on his Alchemy book. Jason shook his head, slid the book slowly out from under Jackson's head and slammed it shut. Jackson shot out of his chair, throwing something at Jason in the same movement. Jason ducked to dodge it, but it exploded silently two feet from his head, throwing him to the floor.

“Oops. Sorry, Hawk,” Jackson said apologetically, striding over to Jason and pulling him to his feet, “You took me by surprise.”

“Y'know, that kinda negates the purpose I came her for. I guess I'll leave,” Jason turned to the door.

“No, wait. What did you need?” Jackson asked.

“I hurt myself,” Jason whispered quietly.

“Again? How?” Jackson asked.

“Fight with a Vampire. Claws, silver bullets, the whole nine yards,” Jason grimaced as he pulled the coat back to expose the bleeding wound.

“Huh. Thought you Werewolves could heal anything,” Jackson mocked. He gestured to a chair next to a table, “Have a seat, I'll see what I can do.”

Jason shrugged off his coat and hung it on the rack next to his hat, then sat slowly in the chair. He pulled his shirt off, exposing the bullet wound and several other ragged cuts and bruises from his encounter.

“Tsk, tsk. You should take better care of yourself. I'm using up enough supplies as it is to help you,” Jackson scolded him.

“Fights with Vampires aren't exactly easy, old man. Especially when the moon is waning,” Jason pointed out.

“True. Never the less, that doesn't mean you go looking for trouble, you should let trouble find you. And why do you do this anyway?” Jackson asked as he inspected the hole in Jason's shoulder with a headset microscope goggles.

“I do it for good reason. Remember the reason I came to this country in the first-good lord man, that hurts!!” Jason snarled.

“Well, its not my fault its stuck in your shoulder, is it?” Jackson said, “Its no easy thing to pull a bullet out, you know.” he growled back as he pried at the bullet. With a sickening pop the bullet came out, firmly in the grip of Jackson's pliers.

“Well, now that the worsts over...” Jackson stopped as the door burst open, a young woman in her mid twenties walking in.

“Jackson, what are you doing up here? There's a party downstairs if you haven't.....” she fell silent at the scene before her, “Who are you?!?” she demanded loudly, noticing the heavily bleeding wound on his shoulder.

Jason smiled wolfishly, “Jason Hawkeye. Vampire Hunter and member of the underground Werewolf Clan.”

“Who..Wha...Eh?” she said as she reached for a small crystal at her belt.

“Wait! No killing him! Friend, friend!” Jackson yelled, leaping in front of her and grabbing her wrist.

“Who is he?” she demanded again.

“I just told you. Jason Hawkeye. My friends call me Hawk.” Jason insisted.

“But..you just said you're a Werewolf, didn't you?” she asked, jerking her hand away from Jackson and reaching for the crystal again.

Jackson grabbed her wrist once more and said insistently, “He's also my friend.”

She relaxed and crossed her arms under her chest, “And what are you doing here?”

“I came for medical treatment. Werewolves can usually heal themselves, but i got nailed with a silver bullet.” Jason said as Jackson poured some powder into the wound.

A flash lit the room and pain shot through Jason's shoulder. He looked at it and saw the skin had sealed over, healing not just the shoulder but all the wounds from the fight.

“Thank you. Now, if you don't mind, I'll be going.” Jason pulled his tattered shirt back on.

“I don't think so, mister. How did you get hit with a silver bullet, and explain why I shouldn't report this? Even if you are friends, our rules strictly forbid pursued Werewolf's on these premiss's,” the woman said as she moved to block his path.

“Also as previously stated, I am a Vampire hunter. I was trailing one earlier this evening. I was trying to stop it killing, but I failed to reach the victim in time. The Vampire attacked me and the result is before you,” Jason explained as he grabbed his rain coat.

The woman spun as a knocking on the door started. Jackson grabbed Jason and threw him into a cabinet. Jackson quickly sealed the doors and turned to the knockers.

“Jackson, Jillian, what are you two weirdo's doing up here? There's a party downstairs after all.” the tall blond girl said with a smile, “Not to mention lots of food and beer.”

“Jessica, you know Alchemists aren't encouraged to drink beer. And Jillian here refuses to.” Jackson said quietly.

“Okay, Okay. But there's still food.” the other one said softly.

“Keith, you shouldn't be drinking any either. Your an Alchemist too, you know.” Jillian said amusingly.

“Ah, a little beer never hurt anyone. C'mon, besides, Lieutenant Leroy's got something for you two.” Keith said, smiling.

Jillian and Jackson left the room, shutting the door soundly behind them. They walked down to the party and grabbed plates of food. They scanned the room, looking for Lieutenant Leroy, spotting his heavily medaled chest and made their way quickly over to him.

“Mm?” he mumbled with a mouth full of food at them, “Ah, yes. Sergeant Jackson. Major Kylen. Good evening. How have you been doing?” he asked, putting a piece of pizza on his plate and wiping his hand.

“Very good. Yourself?” Jackson replied.

“Excellent. I have something from Colonel Loki for you.” he handed them both a smooth wooden box and a written note, “Have a good New years.”

As Leroy turned and walked to the table, Jackson and Jillian opened the wooden boxes.

“No.” Jillian whispered, a smile coming to her face.

Inside Jillian's box w as a blue stripe and a silver star. In Jackson's it was the same except his was two blue stripes and a silver star.

“Promoted to Lieutenant Colonel? They wouldn't.” Jackson said.

They opened the crisp letters and found them almost exact mirrors.

Greetings Soldiers, Dec/27/2018
No doubt this comes as much as a surprise to you as it does to us, but you are hereby elevated in rank to Lieutenant Colonel in the Royal Alchemist and Sorcerer Division. The President of the United States of America is quite pleased with this and bids you congratulation. In case you are wondering the reason for this, is it in response to a job well done last Tuesday, when, we are told, Vampires attacked the base in an attempt to overwhelm it. We are happy that you both escaped unharmed and that the losses to the Alchemist and Sorcerer Division were minimal. As you should know, this puts you in charge of the Academy and Central Command in London, not to mention the highest ranking U.S. Soldiers in Europe. Do not disappoint us like Raven did previously. Have a good new year and stay out of trouble.
Your friends and Commanding Officers-
Colonel James Matthew Loki.
Colonel Richard Gerald
Colonel Archer Van'Dwyndle
Colonel James Gary Brettock
Colonel Timothy Brian


“Great. In charge of the Academy and Central? This just keeps getting better and better.” Jackson said.

“C'mon. Lets go check on you friend.” Jillian pushed him to the stairs.

They reached the dorms and walked quickly to Jacksons room. They walked in to find the cabinet blown apart.

“Now where is he?” Jillian asked Jackson.

“Up here, people.” a voice said above them.

They looked up to find Jason sitting on the ceiling, reading one of Jackson's book's on Alchemy, while chewing on a loaf of bread.

“What are you doing?!” Jillian exclaimed.

“Sitting. Reading. Eating bread. Whats it look like?” Jason asked.

“No, what are you doing up there?” Jillian asked.

“What, you didn't know that Werewolves could climb on walls and ceiling, not to mention defy gravity?” Jason said innocently.

“Don't play coy with me, Wolfboy. I can still report this, you know.” she warned.

“Yes, but will you is the question, is it not.” Jackson said as he grabbed Jason and pulled him down.

Jason landed without a sound and put the book on the table. He took a large bite of the bread and chewed it slowly.

“And where did you get the bread?” Jackson asked.

“Oh, I, uh, made it from some paper that was in the garbage. Pretty easy Alchemy if you ask me.” Jason shrugged.

“Paper? I'll never understand Alchemy.” Jillian looked at the ceiling.

“And I'll never understand Sorcery.” Jackson retorted.

“Sorcery is so much easier than Alchemy. No exchanging, no circles. Just spells. Easiest thing in the world.” Jillian argued.

“And I say Alchemy is vice-versa with Sorcery. No matter how many times I show you, you just don't get the concept of a transmutation circle. See?” Jackson pulled out a picture from a book and showed it to her.

Jillian sighed, knowing it was a lost argument, and turned to Jason, “So, you gonna tell me the story or am I going to push this red button?” she said, indicating the alarm on the wall.

Jason sighed and began.