Paranormal SWAT #4

Hey all, well what a long strange trip it has been. I've finished my final story for the month of October and my hasn't this been far more work than I expected. I intend to try this again at some point but right now I'm to embroiled in school to make this a weekly thing. If you're interested in seeing where this all began head to the Cul-De-Sac to Hell and see the teams first story. 

Anyway, here's the final story of beasts, monsters, and the supernatural in Chicago.

Paranormal S.W.A.T.
Supernatural Weapons & Arcane Tactics

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Midnight in the Apocalypse Graveyard 

Mike Litman had been wandering through the graveyard for twenty minutes using a flashlight that was flickering away the last bits of battery power while looking for landmarks when he heard the screams. Damnit, he was too late. He had his school bag packed full of everything the book said he’d need; holy water, a knife, two kinds of salt (he hadn’t been sure if he should use regular table salt or sea salt so had grabbed both boxes), candles, and of course all the scans he’d made of the book on his tablet before Jay had taken the Fides Mortuus. He was holding the book bag tightly as he ran through the graveyard toward the frightened screams of what he assumed were the cheerleaders.

He ran along, his shins complaining every time he found a small concrete bench or errant tombstone. He stumbled through the darkness the flashlight having finally given up when he made out a form in the night, he moved towards it until the full moon emerged from behind a cloud to let him see memorial of the little girl. He cursed and veered off to one side his windbreaker getting caught on passing branches as it flapped behind him. His unseeing jog through the graveyard came to a halt when he bounced off the side of an unseen mausoleum and landed face first in the mud.

He cursed to himself and tried to stand when the entire world seemed to erupt in brilliant white light. The heavenly glow covered the area flowing out from the center of the graveyard near the old crypts. His heart soared, one of the people he had called must have shown, he hadn’t been sure if they’d believe him. Hell, he hadn’t been sure he believed it, and he saw his neighbors dog come back and claw its way out of the grave in the back yard. But one of them must have come, he’d dug through the internet and phonebook looking for help; a TV schlock horror host, a retired actor from old B horror movies, a paranormal SWAT team, a couple of magicians, and even a wizard. He was pretty sure most of them wouldn’t be able to help, but maybe one of them was the real thing.

He was suddenly shook from his happy feeling by something moving up behind him. He didn’t see or hear anything, but that little voice that tells you someone’s behind you was screaming like it was being murdered. Mike turned slightly from his position in the grass and saw his first human zombie. The creature was dressed in what must have once been nice clothes. The remnants of a suit and tie draped from it’s body now covered in dirt. One of it’s hands caked with grave dirt from the dig reached for him with broken fingernails.

Mike turned on the grass and pushed away from the creature, back pedaling on all fours like a crab until he hit a surface too solid to move and climbed it to his feet. He felt hard cold marble beneath his fingers, and realized he was leaning against the mausoleum he’d hit a moment ago. Mike dug into his book bag still hanging off his shoulder and pulled out his dad’s 38. He fired three shots into the zombie, two hit in the chest and the third went wide. He’d never fired the gun before despite his dads offer to take him shooting. He’d always been attracted to more academic purists and quite frankly the gun had scared him. He would change that first thing in the morning, if he lived.

He could see a second zombie past the first, this one still climbing out of its grave. He reached into his book bag and drew the tablet out and thumbed the screensaver off. As the light flared up and illuminated the area he thumbed the page until he found the part he was looking for. He quickly started reading aloud the words they had used to stop the neighbors bull dog. As the words ran past his lips he could feel the rise of warmth in his belly. He concentrated on the feeling and it moved up his body through his chest and to his shoulders. It moved down his arm towards his hand and as the warmth reached his them he felt the zombies fingers grasp the front of his jacket and looked up to see its face approaching his neck. With a final push of desperation and terror he took his right hand, all warm and tingly, and shoved against the zombies chest. Flames wrapped around the place where he touched the zombie and launched it backwards away from him.

As the flaming body hurtled backwards Mike felt his other hand begin to burn and looked down to see the flaming remains of his computer tumble to the ground. Mike swore, “not again,” trying not to think of how his dad would react when a girl’s high-pitched scream echo through the grave yard. Shaken back to the situation at hand, he took off toward the center of the graveyard, hoping to find their saviors and tell them about the
other zombies. As he ran towards the area he and Jay had picked he saw other zombies rising from their resting places and those who had already escaped were headed in the same direction as him.

He came on the oldest area in the graveyard, the section that had been set up to contain Chicago’s founders, most of the locals didn’t even know it existed. It had been perfect little area and had every thing the book had wanted. It had all been hypothetical, at least at first. Mike wasn’t sure when Jay had decided to do it for real, to destroy the bullies, the jocks, the Betties, the kids who had made there lives hell since junior high. There was a point when Mike suspected Jay wanted to do it, but he never imagined he’d do it. Not until the phone call earlier that night.

Mike jumped the two foot wrought iron fence and jogged out looking for the heroes and found only chaos.

Several cheerleaders and a couple of jocks from the football team had been surrounded by zombies and were trying to push them back. A couple of the other kids were being eaten in various places amongst the crypts. Tony Durran, the captain of the team was holding a shovel and swinging it like a club to keep the zombies at bay. Ginger Meadows was using her lighter and hair spray as a flame thrower to set the zombies that got too close on fire as Tony pushed them back.

In the center of the area standing on a giant star shaped monument was Jay, wearing his favorite trench coat, the one his grandmother had gotten him. He was laughing and walking around waving one of his hands like he was conducting an orchestra. He had lit candles sitting on the ground next to the Fides Mortuus in the exact center of the star. His black hair, greasy with sweat, kept sticking to his glasses.

As one of the zombies got a hand inside Tony’s reach and scratched his arm Jay yelled out, “Hey Tony, tell me again how you can’t learn nothing useful in books.” Jay stopped moving to scream at the circle, “Tell me again how you’re going to get the football team to kick my ass. Well here’s my team Tony. Why don’t you kick theirs.”

One of the zombies reached in a grabbed at Ginger until Tony managed to push it back. “Hey Ginger, just tell him he’s gross and your too pretty to talk to someone like him. I’ll bet that’ll make him leave you alone.”

As one of the zombies finally made it all the way through Tony’s defensive swing and started grabbing at the cheerleaders inside Ginger shrieked and pushed one of the other girls, a new one named Tina Dowling towards its outstretched hands. Jay shrieked with laughter and began skipping around the circle again.

Mike dodged over to one side and hid behind a crypt and tried to think of what to do. Tina’s cries filled the air. The gun was useless in his hands, and the tablet was gone so he couldn’t help anyone that way. Tina screamed for help. If he could remember the words he could do something. Tina let out a wrenching shriek begging to be let go. If he could get to the other book he could do something. Tina began to sob, crying, “no,” over and over again. If only he could concentrate he could do something. Tina’s voice wracked with pain called out for someone to help her and then it was gone.

Mike’s whole body filled with warmth and he walked out into the clearing, flames danced around him as he walked into the zombie horde. Some of the beasts turned to face him and he reached out balls of flame the size of softballs leapt from his hands. Each ball slammed into a zombie setting it ablaze and launching it like a shooting star across the clearing. As he moved through the crowd zombies reached out to touch him and when they did their hands burst into flames. He swatted zombies aside as he walked, pushing them back as if they were nothing more than a beaded curtain in a doorway.

He heard Jay screaming in the distance, he sounded as if he were miles away, he was calling him a traitor. He reached the small weeping ball that was Tina. Her clothes were a tattered mass of bloody material and piece of exposed flesh were covered with claw and bite marks. He bent down and picked her up, clutching her against his chest, bloody tears streamed down here face. She was too weak to speak, he held her there and for a brief moment she looked up and locked eyes with him.

His world shifted ninety degrees and he knew everything she was or had been. He knew her hopes and goals, her fears and joys. She was a decent person, she wanted to be liked and was afraid that none of the other kids would. She loved art and music, she played the piano and painted badly. Her grandmother called her bobbin and she had cried for three days when she passed away. For a brief second in time it was like they were the same person, and in that second she ceased to be. Her body went limp in his arms as her spirit left it and he felt her become no more.

Mike stood there as the warmth drained from his body, his legs wobbled beneath him and he fell to his knees. He clutched Tina to him, if only he had reacted faster. She was gone and it was all his fault. His eyes blurred as he sat there holding her against him. He could hear something far away, but he wasn’t sure it mattered. He’d thought he was going to be the big hero and now a girl had died in his arms. He could hear thunder rolling in the distance and wasn’t sure if he could do anything now but die.

Something shook his shoulder. Poor Tina. Something shook him again. He paused for a moment and listened to the thunder, it was so close. Something hit him across the face and he jerked his head back and looked up as gun fire echoed around him. He looked up into the mirrored faceplate of Dr. Griffin Wells, the teams scout and forensics expert.

“Hey Romeo, snap out of it or you’re gonna die.” Wells turned and fired his sawn-off into a zombie that was coming up behind him.

“You slapped me.” Mike was still not sure exactly what was going on.

“No, I shot you.”

“What?”

Captain Albert Card, the teams leader and sorcerer fired his shotgun past Wells head towards a crowd of zombies. “It was the only way to break you out of it. You were letting off a pillar of flame high enough to reroute air traffic.”

Wells finished loading his shotgun, “Hell of a flare.”

Mike’s head started to clear, he realized that he and the other teens were ringed in by five armed men standing in between them and the zombies. He also noted the three foot burnt out crater that he knelt in the middle of.

Off to one side Rabi Adam Stein, expert in religious studies and heavy weapons operator, was finished loading another drum into his assault shotgun. He strafed the gun slowly at chest height and the upper half of several zombies explode in a mist of bone and flesh. Mike recognized the sound the gun made as it fired as what he’d thought was thunder. As he knelt there getting his bearings, Adam finished the drum and ejected it to the ground with three other empty containers.

Mike stood, strength gradually returning to his legs as he figured out what was going on around him. These men must have been one of the groups he had called that evening when he figured out what Jay was going to do. He looked around in wonder as they cut a swath of destruction through the zombie army.

Blake Lagoona, trained in aquatic operations and a gifted sniper, was firing an automatic shotgun and slamming clip after clip home as zombies burst under the weight of his fire. As he reloaded a zombie got too close and Blake pushed him back before shoving the clip home and shooting the zombie in the face.

Mike turned to see the final member of the team. Douglas Wulf, close quarters fighter and wilderness survival expert, was swinging a fire axe like a barbarian from so many of the books Mike had read. He went forward with a ferocity and almost animal like brutality. Every time a zombie got to close Wulf tore into it attacking its head again and again, until there was nothing left but a stump of a body.

A bright glow from the back of each mans armor drew Mike’s attention. The team all had rows of white runes glowing so brightly that the air shimmered around them. Wulf’s armor had similar runes, but his also contained a row of smaller green ones the ringed his chest just under the other set.

As Mike turned he saw Jay, his oldest friend, laying on his side clutching his knee and screaming in pain. “Hi Jay,” he called, “what happened to your knee?”

“Are you sure this kids not stoned?” Wells called out as he fired his last few shots.

Adam’s gun stopped firing and he propped it up on his shoulder. “Well he sort of is. That much power running through a body is going to leave a person euphoric for a little while.” Adam turned and walked to Mike, “I can take her from you if you’d like. I only ask because eventually the euphoria and adrenalin are going to wear off and I’m not entirely certain you can lift her.”

Mike looked down and hadn’t even realized he was still carrying Tina. Once he saw the poor girl memories of the evening came flooding back and he started to fall.

*  *  *

Mike regained conscious sitting on the stone star in the center of the graveyard, the whole area had taken on an otherworldly quality as it was now lit by a series of magnesium road flares scattered around concrete. Jay was mumbling just a few feet away. “Handcuff me you rotten sons-a-bitches. I’ll show you all, you don’t get to mess with me. My minions will take over the world. I don’t care if you stopped me now, I’ll be back.”
Mike leaned forward. “Shut up Jay.” He looked down at his friend whose knee was freshly bandaged.

“Oh, it’s the traitor.”

“At least I’m not a killer. Those creatures killed people, they ate people while you laughed.” Mike looked around the area at the large circle made of chalk that Jay had drawn on the concrete, there was a smudge at one point where someone had visibly broken the circle.

“Those weren’t people, they were monsters. They laughed at us everyday, made our lives a living hell. I just showed them what it was to be us. I‘m glad their dead every asshole, bitch and whore.”

Mike kicked him in the bandage before he even realized he’d done it. As Jay howled in pain one of the men from earlier came over and introduced themselves and the other team members. The one called Wells was going over the last of the teens and bandaging up some of their wounds and making sure everyone was okay. He kept assuring them that bites don’t make zombies, that’s only in the movies. Blake was standing off to one side watching through a set of binoculars carefully scanning the graveyard. Wulf paced back and forth, smoking a cigarette. Adam was performing last rites for Tina and the other teens who hadn’t made it.

“Well, allow me to welcome you to the world of professional sorcery.” Albert began leading Mike a little way off.

Mike looked at him for a moment trying to decide if Albert was serious. “What do you mean?”

“You’re a wizard Mike.”

“I don’t feel like a wizard.”

“Most wizards don’t. On the upside it looks like your going to have some serious power at your disposal when you’ve trained a bit. Admittedly a lot of that was emotional, when someone dies while your looking directly at their soul, bad things happen. Also, you’re going to want to try really hard not to tell anybody about this, most of the world isn‘t as understanding as us.”

“Was it really that big?”

“Honestly, I’m kind of surprised there haven’t been any police by now. You lit up the night sky. I‘d bet it could be seen all the way to Millennium Park. It’ll be OK though, we have a  friend who will make it look like a gas main exploded. That should explain the sixty foot pillar of flame.”

“What will happen to Jay?”

“He’ll go to the authorities.”

“Will the police be able to hold him.”

“He’s not going to the police. There are far better authorities for this sort of thing.”

“Like who?”

“Once we get out of here, I’ll buy you a coffee and answer all your questions.”

They started to walk back towards the group. Once they got there, Adam was holding Wulf back from punching Jay. “You arrogant little jerk, shut up.”

“My army of undead minions will rise up again and smite all who oppose me. Even now as we approach the foretold hour I can feel the masses waking in every corner, every grave, and every lost crevice around the world.”

Albert moved forward and grabbed Jay by the front of his shirt and lifted him off the ground. “What do you mean, your army?”

“The, the spell I cast, it creates an army of the undead for the caster. It made them my minions. It was the spell.”

“I know the spell you were casting, I’ve seen it once before. The zombies aren’t the reason you cast the spell, they’re a side effect.”

“No their not, I cast the spell for the zombies, so I could make those stupid jerks and everyone like them pay for everything they’ve ever done.”

“Of good god. Just please have followed the directions. What kind of candles did you use?”

“Beeswax, of course.”

“What order did you light them in?”

“Compass; north, south, west, east.”

“When you painted the circle?”

“I started at north and went counter-clockwise. What do you think I am some sort of simpleton?” Jay began laughing at Albert.

“When you made the paint did you include crushed onyx?”

“What, why would I make the paint?”

“Oh. Well we’re doomed. What time is it?”

Blake quickly signaled something with his hands. Albert’s entire frame sagged against the star in the center of the area. Albert looked around the clearing at the various individuals gathered around him. He took in everyone’s looks of concern and terror and then looked straight up.

He stood quickly and began pacing, “Adam I need you consecrate the area. Do it up and make it stick.”

“You certain? You’ll be significantly weakened when I’m done.”

“I’m certain, this will be more helpful than me.” Albert seemed to pause as if unsure

“On it,” Adam grabbed a satchel nearby and set to work.

“Blake you’re going to be watching our flank to make sure something doesn’t happen while we’re prepping the area. If I’m right there are going to be more zombies, lots more zombies.”

Blake made a couple of quick motions with his hands then grabbed a gun and some binoculars and climbed to the top of a nearby crypt.

“Wulf. Wells. You two need to get these kids out of here.”

Wulf shot forward, “Whoa, Albert we are not splitting up. Just because we did it once and got away with it you think we can do it every time. We are staying here.”

“Oh, trust me, if I thought we could do this with what we have here I’d be all over fighting it out, but what’s coming we’re going to need every advantage we can get. Which means the truck. We need the truck. The sound system, the lights, ammo. Titanium shells will be best. Right now we’re mostly packing rock salt…”

Mike suddenly snapped his fingers, “That makes so much more sense.” He then became acutely aware of everyone looking at him. “Sorry.”

Albert collected his thoughts and started again. “We also need Mary. And these kids have got to get out of here. We can’t be keeping them safe, they’ll just get in the way. Except you.”

Mike stood there as Albert and the rest of the team turned to stare at him, “I’m sorry I interrupted.”

“Oh, for the love of…” Wells threw his hands in the air. “We’re not keeping you because you don’t know when to shut up. We’re keeping you because you were a miniature Pompeii for ten minutes. Let’s go Wulf. Everybody saddle up.” Wells grabbed his sawn-off and started to pick up the first aid kit. “This I’ll leave. Are we taking Lex Luthor or leaving him here to die.”

Wulf helped Ginger to her feet, “leave him.” They began to start off into the darkness when he called back to Albert, “We will discuss breaking rules when this is over with.”

After the group moved into the graveyard and out of sight Albert sagged to the ground. Mike barely had time to catch him, “you okay?”

“Adam’s working much faster than I thought. It’s cutting me off from, let’s just call it a power source.”

“Do you need to rest?”

“Yes, but we don’t have time.” Albert straightened himself and moved to the book on the central platform. “I’m going to need you to redraw and focus the circle, we broke it so nothing’s going to contain the creature that comes next.”

“OK.” Mike rooted around and found Jay’s bag of supplies and pulled several jars of Happy Time children’s craft paint from inside. Most were empty, having been used to draw the first circle and what was left wouldn’t be enough to cover the ground necessary to make a circle. Mike dug through the rest of the bag for the things Jay had brought. Several unopened scented candles, a silver knife from a table setting, and a bag of chicken bones with some of the deep fry breading still sticking to the ends.

Albert, looking over Mike’s shoulder, stared at Jay who was watching them with hatred in his eyes. “How did you not get your soul sucked straight into hell?” Jay laughed. He returned his attention to Mike, “so any idea how to proceed from here?”

“Well we need more paint, but I have no idea where to get it. Well if we could add to it.” Mike looked at the book and turned a couple of pages. “I got it.” Mike quickly grabbed his book bag and dug out the vials of holy water. He unscrewed the tops of the paint jars and poured his holy water into them and began sloshing the water from one Jar to another until he had two jars of watered down paint. “This should be enough. It won’t be as large but should still circle the area.”

“Excellent, go ahead.”

Mike moved away and using the large brush Jay had brought started painting a circle. Albert spoke up, “now while making the circle focus your will on what your doing. Concentrate on the circle and imagine putting yourself, your essence, your soul into it.”

Mike could feel the warmth returning and focused it to his hand as he moved the brush. With each stroke, he felt himself go into the paint a little more and when he came full circle and connected the line he felt a small locking sensation that came from deep down inside himself. He stood and turned to see Adam and Albert standing looking at his work.

Adam spoke first, “He’s pretty good at that.” Adam was standing facing away from Albert as he prepared the last of his equipment, a great purple sash made of linen hung over his shoulders, a yamaka resting on his head, and an ancient iron Star of David dangling out of the top of his blue turtle neck sweater.

“You’re a Rabi?”

“Yes. Do you need something?”

“I was hoping to confess before everything happens.”

“I can’t technically hear your confession, but if you want to talk to me about it I’ll listen. It may be helpful.”

Two gunshots echoed off the top of one of the crypts, and the three of them turned to see Blake fire a third shot before jumping down and jogging to them. He moved his hands gesturing towards the graveyard as he approached.

Albert braced himself and pumped his shotgun, “don’t call me boss. He says more zombies have entered the graveyard from three sides, possibly all four but the castle is in the way. They’re coming at a shamble but should be here soon.” Albert turned and handed a shotgun from the ground to Mike, “today, you get to learn how to kill zombies.”

“Shoot the head, right?”

Albert nodded, “close enough. Mostly it’s destroy the eyes and destroying the head does that.”

“Why the eyes?”

Albert handed over a bag of ammunition, “they’re the windows to the soul. Traditionally if you want to control a dead body you have to go in the way the soul left. It’s why most cultures put coins over the eyes. It had nothing to do with the boatman, it was all about not letting the dead rise. Silver works best, but any coin will do unless the necromancer is really powerful. Modern culture is pretty much the necromancy all you can eat buffet, because we don’t believe in silly superstitions any more.”

They gave Mike a quick lesson on how to load and fire a shot gun until Blake started shooting again. “If you can conjure any more fire save it till midnight and the big theatrics.” Adam pumped his gun once readying the chamber and then turned as the first zombies walked into the light from the flares.

Mike focused on his side of the clearing and fired hitting a zombie in the chest and pushing it backwards. It fell and began rising again a gaping hole blown through its chest. Mike fired again, aiming higher this time and blasted the head and a portion of the shoulders off of the creature. As more zombies came Mike fired again and again, reloaded and continued. Occasionally a zombie would reach the painted line and stop, is if pushing on an unseen wall. Mike could feel the pressure against the back of his mind as the beast tried to force its way in. It would only last moments before he or more often one of the others would quickly fire and remove the threat.

Adam had his combat shotgun slung over his shoulder and a spare drum of ammo laying on the platform in the center. He wielded a standard shotgun to hold the zombies back. In between gun shots Mike could hear him crying out in Hebrew. The words flowed over him and made their way inside his soul filling him with feelings of warmth and safety.

Jay lounged in the midst of the group on top of the star shaped platform in the center. As each zombie fell he laughed and mocked the four men as they stood against the undead tide. As the seconds passed into minutes and the bag of ammo hanging off Mike’s shoulder grew lighter Jay mocked his failing resources.

Then in an odd moment of stillness the air rung as the bells of Saint Gregory the Great began to toll. As they rang on the zombies halted their movement and rocked in place. As each bell tolled the cries of the dead roared back in answer. Jay rose to his feet in the middle of the platform and roared with laughter. “You know old man, there’s an excellent question you should have asked the boy?”

Albert turned towards the center and started reloading his shotgun. “Now would be an excellent time to get the big gun and if possible catch yourself on fire.”

Jay giggled, “did he add anything to the paint? Would have been a better question, then you might have learned he…”

“Added his own blood.” Albert shoved his shotgun into Jays stomach and pulled the trigger launching him up and over Adam and out of the circle. As Jay passed over the painted ring Mike felt a sharp pressure and then felt a sudden release as the circle broke. As Jay fell down into the horde of undead their arms reached up, caught him, and then they gently lowered Jay to the ground. The rest of the zombies walked towards Jay crowding in around him.

A bright white light shone up from the spot Jay disappeared into the horde and zombies walked into the light. More crowded in, long past the number that should have fit, as if they were passing into a pit. With each zombie that crossed into the light, the air grew more and more cold. Mike saw his breath hang in the air before him and wondered if the others were being effected the same way. As he look around he only saw the effect reflected in Adam, whose breath came in steady pulses, Albert stood holding his breath, and Blake was breathing through a respirator built into his suit that made a slight gurgling sound.

A great form began to rise up in the midst of the light and while Jays laughter grew in volume it and now seemed to be coming from somewhere up off the ground. The timber of his voice had changed, now a deep bass boomed like a drum. The church bells continued to toll and finally at the stroke of midnight the light exploded outward hurling three of the four men backward. Only Albert stood his ground.

Jay now stood before them thirty feet tall glowing with a brilliant white light that almost hurt the eyes. His body was beautiful, sculpted in the finest Greek tradition of rippling muscles and squared jaw. A golden toga now hung from his shoulder perfectly accentuating his massive legs and arms. His face was like Jays but now curly blonde locks framed cold sapphire eyes. The most notable feature were the two misshapen and long healed wing stumps protruding from behind his shoulders.

Jay leaned down until his face was only a few feet above Alberts who rose into the air until they were eye to eye. “So,” Jay’s voice echoed like a harp in a cave, “Impaler, we meet again after all these years. How long has it been? We do lose track in the darkness.”

“Hello Bel. That was a different lifetime. The man you knew died that night.”

“Oh, I imagine he wished he had.” Jay laughed, “or I suppose everyone else did. Tell me, did you save your kingdom?”

“You tell me. Now Adam.” Suddenly Albert dropped to the ground as Adam fired his combat shotgun into Jay’s chest. Jay staggered back under the onslaught a look of surprise on his face. After a few steps he backed into a large marble crypt knocking pieces of masonry away.

Jay pushed off and moved forward with surprising swiftness backhanding Adam across the clearing with a massive hand hurling him into a medium sized oak which split in half. “Ah, the Many. How are all of you doing?” Jay brought his hands up forming a single fist and slammed them down onto the earth. Adam rolled to one side allowing the fists to slam into the pavement leaving a huge crater where they impacted.

Adam stood and switched out the drum replacing it with his final cylinder, “How does it feel? Do you even remember what His love feels like?” Adam opened up with the gun again the rounds cutting into Jays forearm leaving a huge gash.

“How does it feel not having a soul?” Jay launched a second backhand at Adam who ducked under it only to be caught by the uppercut that followed in its wake launching him up and over the wrought iron fence.

Warmth filled Mike, it was coming easier now. He stepped forward and hurled the flames that gathered about his fists at Jay. Red welts appeared on his sides where the blasts hit him and quickly blackened. Jay roared in frustration as Albert leapt from the shadows and fired his shot gun only to back away into the mists that now formed around him. Blake took small steps constantly moving to keep Jay’s head in view, he had discarded his shotgun in favor of an HK assault rifle. Every round found its way into the side of Jay’s head. At first welts appeared but as he continued to fire he began to draw blood.

Jay turned on Blake and as the bullets hit and then began to tear into his face. Jay bellowed an odd gurgling noise that sounded oddly mocking. As he did he slammed his fists into the earth narrowly missing Blake. The shockwave knocked him off balance enough for Jay to pull his fists sideways and hurl Blake through the closed marble doors of a nearby crypt.

Jay grabbed a limb from the fallen tree and used it as a bat to catch Albert as he moved from the shadows with his shotgun. Albert lifted up off the ground and launched up into the sky. “Be gone Impaler, you’ve had your chance.”

Mike hurled more balls of flame at his old friend. Jay turned and rushed forward. “Ah the Traitor. Tell me boy, how does it feel to betray everything you’ve ever loved. Your parent’s, your family, and now your best friend. Do you think you can stop me? You couldn’t even save Tina.” Jay crouched down and screamed into Mike’s face.

The warmth in Mike’s body flickered and faded as he locked eyes with his childhood friend. “Your mother cries every night. Has your father ever really understood what sort of man you are? You destroyed your computer and stole his gun, can you really make up for that?”

Mike stared up at his old friend, he was right of course. Mike’s father would never forgive this, not this. What would he have left once he got home. Certainly his parents would throw him out and where would he go then? He pulled the 38 from his pocket, it still had three rounds in it. It would be so easy.

And yet something played at the back of his mind. He looked away into the distance and saw a bright light. Jay followed his gaze, “that’s right Mike, it’s the Lord and he’s calling you home.” Mike stared at the light as it grew, there was something about it that made him feel warm inside. Something that filled him with familiarity. “Just pull the trigger once and it will all be over. The pain will be gone.”

Mike thumbed the safety off and looked at his fathers gun. It would be so easy now. He cocked the hammer and started to raise the pistol to his head. “I’m sorry.”

Jay rocked backwards as Adam stepped into Mikes field of vision bringing both his fist across Jay’s jaw. Jay surprised by the sudden attack staggered back trying to raise his head and regain his footing. Adam moved in quickly swinging again and again at Jay pushing him back farther and farther from Mike. “Don’t listen son, it’s all a bunch of lies.”

Suddenly the bright light washed over him and music filled the air as the teams truck slammed through the wrought iron fence metal stakes tearing into its front, shredding the tires and wrenching the grill loose. The truck bounced off the pavement and slammed into Jay as he staggered backwards. Music filled the area blasting from the trucks sound system.

With the musical battle cry, “with the swords of a thousand men,” Wulf burst from the truck a knife in each hand white hot runes blazing away.

“Ah, the beast…” was as far as Jay got before Wulf pounced forward and drove both of his blades into the small of Jays back. Wulf then pulled one knife out and embedded it higher up Jays back next to his spine and in this way began to climb Jay aiming for his neck. Jay spun trying to dislodge the madman from his back as Wulf drew himself higher and higher. When Wulf finally reached the apex of his climb he let out a howl of rage and drove his knifes one at a time into Jays neck.

The back of the truck swung open and Wells stood awkwardly trying to keep his footing under the weight of a huge Gatling cannon. “Adam, come get Mary off my hands.”

Jay had finally managed to get his hands on Wulf and flipped him over slamming him down on a wrought fence driving some of the spiked poles up through his armor. He then spun on Wells as he handed the gun to Adam, “ah, the Madman. So what does it feel like to be a failure.”

Wells leaned to Adam who had taken Mary in one hand and was feeding a chain into the weapon, “What is he?”

“Fallen Angel.”

“Thank you.” Wells cracked his neck and yelled at Jay, “all right, you wanna play. Let‘s play. Maybe if you weren’t some whiney failure of a revolutionary, whose biggest accomplishment was to get kicked out of the really good party. It’s been so long since you’ve felt God’s love you wouldn’t know it now if it bit you on the ass. The best part of this whole thing, is that the only reason you threw your little tantrum was because daddy loved us more. Looking at you and the stink of failure that wafts off of you like crap in a tornado makes me wish closing my eyes did anything. So tell me Nancy, how does it feel to be second best?”

Jay screamed in unholy rage, grabbed Wells, and slammed him into the truck again and again. The windshield buckled, glass and metal flew of in huge chunks, the headlights exploded out, and the music skipped. In a final swift burst of frustration Jay launched Wells into the night. As Jay bellowed into the darkness huge tears began streaming down his face. Mike slowly lowered the 38 and dropped it to the ground.

The mechanical whir of a small engine roared to life as Adam walked forward, his now loaded Gatling cannon braced against his hip and an ammo chain feeding into the gun from a green case slung over his other shoulder. Every bullet tore into Jay leaving huge rents as chunks of flesh, blood, and sinew were ripped free and sent spilling out behind him. Jay’s cries echoed out against the night as the bullets cut him down.

Mike felt the warmth slowly return as he watched Adam move forward and the music wash over him. He stepped forward his hands bursting into flames once more. He hurled the flames into his old friend as Jay’s body slowly fell away and his size reduced. He hurled flames at his old friend as the toga shifted into a once familiar trench coat. He hurled flames until the Gatling canon motor stopped and his friends black hair returned. He hurled flames until Adam touched him on the shoulder and moved him away from his old friend.

*  *  *

It was hours later when the a small hunched man in overalls arrived with a flatbed to take the truck away. The rest of the team had returned one by one from their various landing places through out the graveyard. Wulf had pulled himself from the wrought iron post and was doing pretty well. In fact if he hadn’t known any better Mike would swear nothing had happened to him at all. They’d had to go find Wells who’d broken a leg when he’d landed and help him back to the area. Blake had staggered out of the crypt shortly after the fight ended. He had been dazed but seemed no the worse for wear. Albert had walked back on his own and looked weak, almost exhausted. He’d climbed into the back of the truck and picked up a thermos from the back asking to be left alone for a while.

As the hunched man went about loading the truck onto the flat bed Mike stood around and talked to Adam, “so that was a fallen angel?”

“Yeah, not what you were expecting?”

“I always thought, you know forked tail and stuff.”

“Common misconception. Their punishment was to no longer bask in His love, misshapen and deformed is just something people decided had happened.”

“Why was he talking to us that way? Kept calling us, traitor, many, madman. He was talking about our failures?”

“If he can get someone to kill themselves in his name, it completes the ritual and his transformation to this world becomes permanent. They all have some sort of trigger like that. His was suicide.”

“Why did he call everybody what he called them anyway, I get why he called me traitor, but the many? The impaler?”

There was movement from the ground where the angel had been defeated. Jay stood up in the middle of the circle. He moved forward on shaky legs, his hands gripping the edge of the star shaped monument, “Mike?
Is that you?”

“Jay. You’re alive?” Mike jumped up and started to move towards his old friend when Albert stepped in-between them and plunged a wooden stake into Jay’s chest. For a long moment Jay stood there with a look of surprise on his face and then burst in to dust and separated on the wind.

“There are enough vampires in the world.” Albert turned faced Mike, “that’s why he called me impaler.”

A new voice drifted out of the darkness, “Really, because if I remember my history there was an entirely different reason for it.” A tall, lanky man in a duster walked into the clearing carrying a long wooden staff. “In the words of every English Bobbie ever, what’s all this then?”

Albert stepped away from Mike and leaned against the flatbed, “took you long enough to get here.”

“Traffic was terrible, there were zombies backing up the expressway. Thank you for your concern Mr. Bitey or do you prefer Count Bitey?”

“God, I hate you.”

Mike watched the exchange between the two men and asked, “who are you?”

Albert spoke up, “in the interest of a straight answer. He’s the man whose going to take you to the wizards for training.”

“But I thought…”

“I’m not the kind of training you need, I use a different power source than you. He’ll get you the training you need.”

“Can I still talk to you from time to time?”

“Certainly.” Albert placed his hand on Mike’s shoulder, “you’re a good kid and I’ll bet that one day you’ll do great things. Right now they need you and you need them. This’ll be the best for everyone.”

“If, if you say so.”

The hunched man approached and coughed politely, “a cab has been summoned for you and your compatriots sir, it should be at the castle out front soon. I’m ready to leave and with your permission I will take the truck back to the garage.”

“Certainly Jim, that would be fine We’ll be sending Wells with you since he won’t make it to the front on his leg. Drop him at Dr. Jack’s then bring the truck to the garage.”

“Yes sir.”

As Adam walked by carrying him Wells nodded to the new man, “stretch.”

“Crystal.”

They watched the truck drive away and the rest of the team came over to say good bye to Mike. He shook each man’s hand before they headed off. He watched them go listening to Wulf and Albert talk about tweaking the runes on the armor for a better result.

Mike reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone to call home and sparks shot out of the key pad.

“Not another one.”

“We don’t get along very well with technology.” The new man placed his arm around Mike’s shoulder and started walking him towards the street. “Let me buy you a cup of coffee and I’ll tell you all about it."

End

I hope you all enjoyed it. If you get a chance head on over to facebook and tell me what you thought or just leave a comment below. Until next time, happy Halloween.


A slight edit here, we've continued the story of team and if you're interested in seeing their next adventure head on over to The Sorority Snow Bunnies on Death Mountain.