Date: Tue, 10 Mar 2009 04:43:20 -0400
From: Mark Thompson <craze_writer@live.com>
Subject: Supernatural_101_Part7

This is a long one but there's no sex, just story. Again, sorry if you care
but if you're following the story then you'll appreciate this... I
hope. Well... Enjoy! More to come.

CHANCES ARE this will take place in the same world create by Eric Kripke's
"Supernatural" while there will most likely be no cross over in storyline
or characters. This world was not created by me nor do I claim to have done
so. I however do not like some of the creature features of said world. They
will most likely be changed. Deal with it.


~*~ Supernatural 101 Part 7 ~*~

A small, physically distorted Imp placed a festering bucket under the Rack
then hobbled away muttering to itself. Ironside was strapped to this
circular framed contraption with leather straps made of human flesh. The
strongest kind his master once said because they were made with
suffering. A limb to each non-existent corner of a square, Ironside hung
helpless in its grip.

"I told you to kill him." His master said in a calm yet agonizing torturous
tone. "I expect what I order to be done." A surge of pain emanated from
Ironside's back, as if a lomg, rusty knife was cutting into his flesh. "You
disappoint me greatly when my orders are not carried out..." Another three
cuts opened on his back. Screams of torment followed, begging for his
master to stop and give him another chance. "Another chance? You would only
screw it up again. Making you the perfect killer was just that, your
emotions still cloud your judgment... Humans are so weak." Another sore
opened on his lower back.

"Stop! Please... I'll do it... I promise you..." Ironside pleaded.

"The word of a helpless mortal succumbed by pain means nothing to me..." He
walked around to face Ironside. Dressed in a black cloak that covered his
decrepit face spared Ironside the sight of looking into the face of
evil. His hands were also covered in black leather gloves. While no feet
touched the ground, the floating form was quite obviously bound to the same
`laws' of gravity. "No... If you are to continue your task, you must do it
away from... temptation..." An invisible sneering smile could be felt
through the cold blackness of the master's hood.

"I would die..." Ironside whispered faintly, unable to muster the strength
for much else.

"Well we wouldn't want that." The form chuckled. "Your breed is too
precious to me... It has cost me too much time... But you can't be set
loose in the same area as your homosapien lover. If you come within a mile
of this boy, you will be eliminated."

"You wouldn't kill me... I'm the only one who..." another burning cut
dragged down his spine and he screamed out in agony.

"That may be. But my task is much more important than your life. Since you
failed to eliminate two hunters, I will be forced to do it myself..." He
walked past the countless altars to a table full of miniature stone
pillars.

"What will you have me do... Master?" Ironside obediently asked.

"You will continue to eliminate the hunters in preparation for my time." He
picked up one of the pillars and felt it in his leathered hands. "I will
take care of your failures." The pillar turned to dust that he allowed to
fall onto the ground and sizzle in magical embers. "If you fail me..." he
was speaking to something else now, "I will send you to a layer of hell so
deep, that the light from the fires will not give you hope."

***

It had been a few weeks since I last saw Ironside. I assumed that his
newfound rage had taken him elsewhere. In that time, Desmond and I lived
with Winifred and I learned all that I could. Now I know what you must be
thinking, that during this time Desmond and I... Well we hadn't. I'd kept
be too busy trying to memorize all the books he had memorized over the
course of years in but a month. Not that I hadn't suggested the idea...

"See? I told you he wasn't an Incubus." I said one day while Desmond
whittled a stake as he often did while I read. "Says that an Incubus' cock
is cold. His was warm." I taunted him.

"So he was hot... Do you want a medal for banging him?" Ok he took that the
wrong way. I got that.

"No... I was just saying..." I turned the book I was reading around to show
him. "This part says that Incubi have ice cold penises..." I felt like he
had shot me down. I was embarrassed even to talk. You know the feeling.

He didn't respond. Instead, he looked at me with those green eyes and went
back to his whittling. I returned to my reading but the feeling of
uneasiness stayed with me for a long time.

After an hour or so, Desmond stood up. "Do you want anything? Tea?" He
offered. I shook my head `no' and he went downstairs to fetch whatever it
was he was after. I took this time to think. What was I doing? After so
long, after so much lust, why hadn't we... Done it? I was so confused as to
whether he was confused or if he just lost interest in me once he found out
I had been with Ironside so many times... It was confusing.

I slammed the book shut on `Kimeris,' which may earn me some disfavour in
the future, but I didn't care. I decided that I did want some tea after
all. I left the room and heard Desmond speaking.

"I loved him so much..." he trailed off. Well fuck. He loved me and I lost
it. I collapsed on the stairs. I had promised myself a long time ago that I
wouldn't be like those whiney guys who cried over every little thing. I was
raised to have a tougher skin that that. But it still took me a few minutes
to pick myself up from the stairs and reach the first floor. "How can you
expect me to move on?" Was he talking about me?

I entered the kitchen and Desmond was standing alone watching the kettle
boil. He turned to me when I entered. "Hey T..." He restrained himself from
coming close to me. I saw it in his posture, he settled into a reclined
pose after he had begun to lunge towards me.

"Hi." I searched around for Winnie.

"She's not here." He began, "went out collecting herbs from her gardens."
He smiled at me then withdrew, looking at the steaming kettle on the
stove. "Wood stoves take the longest to heat up." He chuckled nervously.
	"Perfect. Then I have some time to tell you something." I took a
step closer to him. "I'm sorry that what happened with Ironside has made
you hate me..." His eyebrows drooped and his bottom lip pushed upwards into
his top giving him a terribly crushed expression. "And I'm sorry that what
ever you are feeling is... I dunno... what you're feeling. But know that
you still mean a lot to me, and that I don't want to go anywhere." I felt
like I was breaking up with him. Somehow. But if he had fallen into then
out of love with me... Then what other options did I have?

"T... I..."

"Good morning Timothy!" Winnie mused as she placed a basket of random
berries and herbs on the table. I turned my back to Desmond so I could look
at her.

"Hi Winnie." I answered much less enthusiastically. I focused my mind and
spoke loudly and clearly as possible in my head: What is wrong with him? I
didn't realize it, but my eye brows turned down in a concerned face.

Winnie looked at me awestruck. She apparently didn't have many people speak
to her specifically through their thoughts, she more just listened in. She
wiped away that face a put on a new one. "Shouldn't you be studying?" She
smiled and began to string up the herbs on the walls to dry.

"I'm just taking a short break." I glanced at Desmond who was still
watching the pot intently. "But I'll get back to it." I saw the momentary
hurt in Desmond's face before I left the room to go up into his old
study. Way to show you care. I said to myself as I ascended the staircase.

But then I stopped. I hoped that I was far enough up the stairs for Winnie
not to sense me. I wanted to hear what they talked about, even if it was an
invasion of their privacy...

***

Desmond sniffed loudly, pouring tea into a large mug. He hesitantly took at
seat at the table, foreseeing that Winnie would give him a good talking to.

"Desmond Leuengo I could just smack you." She let the herbs she was holding
onto fall to the ground. "How could you let that poor boy think such
dreadful things?"

"Winnie, it's not that simple."

"Oh harpy shit!" She seemed to grow larger and more intimidating. "How many
years ago Desmond? Really... Grieving is one thing, but allowing yourself
to suffer to such a degree is... Well it's masochistic!"

"I know but..."

"I'm not finished!" she boomed. "If you think for one second longer that
I'll allow you to deal with this in your own way, you're a bloody idiot!
Two years Desmond. Two years!" She sat across from him at the table. "Let
him rest. Luke deserves it, and so do you." Placing a hand on his, she
seemed to lighten. "If anything should happen to the boy, with that Thing
or otherwise, I know that you'd never forgive yourself."

Desmond put a finger into the boiling cup of tea. It hurt. It turned his
finger blood red, but he kept it in for a slow count of ten. Taking it out,
he resisted the urge to suck on it. "It's my burden." He whispered and made
for the stairs. "Your mind games won't work on him." He said without
looking up.

***

I made a mad dash for the study and managed to close the door quietly just
before Desmond pushed it back open. I stumbled backwards but Desmond
grabbed my hand. "Woah there. You alright?"  He chuckled, pulling me
upwards to a stable position, letting his hand slide further up my arm.

"Ya I'm fine... Just... headed to the bathroom." He smirked at me then
stood to one side, making me push up against him to get past. You seem to
be dealing with your burden just fine.

"Hmh?" Well that's unfortunate. I said it out loud... Awkward.

"Did you know that it's illegal for a teacher to not permit you to go to
the bathroom?" I jested. He let his head drop against the door and pivoted
on it into the room. I walked to the bathroom then made a sharp turn
towards the stairs. I needed to talk to Winnie.

"I figured that you would listen." She was in the den when I reached the
main floor. I turned 180 degrees to meet her all-seeing gaze. "You're far
too predictable." I snorted a laugh at her. "Come and sit." She patted the
cushion beside her, inviting me to sit. I complied.

"You know..." she said taking a photo album from beside her and the couch
arm, "I sort of assumed that Desmond would avoid the subject with you." She
turned to a copy of the picture that hung in Desmond's bedroom, the one
with him and the blonde skinny boy. "But I think it's time you knew the
truth behind Desmond's depressed state."

"I wouldn't really call it depressed, more withdrawn." I defended him.

"Call it what you may, his soul is still scarred and deeply saddened by the
loss he felt all those years ago." She took the picture out of the album
and handed it to me. It felt cold in my hands. The glossy photo with its
paper backing felt somehow unnatural and disconcerting. "Soon after Desmond
came to live with us, another boy did as well. They soon became the best of
friends..." She turned the page to a sad looking boy beside an old car...

***

"Desmond darling..." Winifred said with her hand on the shoulder of an
unknown boy. "This is Lucas Caldonski, a child all alone like yourself."
She smiled and pushed the boy towards Desmond. "But now, we all have each
other. Don't we? Richard darling! Bring the boy's luggage from the car when
you come in won't you?" She ushered the boys together more forcefully. "Now
then, you two run along and play hmh? Show him how fun this rickety old
house can be!"

Desmond scowled at the child and ran off, not waiting for the poor boy. He
let the door slam behind him as he ran off into the woods that brought him
so much joy.

"Go on now." Winifred urged. "He's an alright boy, just takes some getting
use to."

Much later on, Lucas found Desmond deep in the forest by a stream, playing
with the minnows, trying to get them to eat pieces of dirt he made to look
like food.

"Hello." Lucas called out from behind a tree. Desmond stood up and grabbed
the stick he carried while adventuring through the woods.

"Who's there?" The dirty faced boy demanded. "Come out or I'll make you, ya
hear?!" Lucas slowly and shamefully stepped out from behind the
tree. Embarrassed and scared he did a little wave to show some form of
peace. "Oh, it's you."

"My name is Lucas... You're Desmond?" He tried.

"Don't be stupid. She told you my name." He went back to playing with the
minnows, struggling against the current.

"Well, yes but... Desmond..."

"It's MISTER Desmond to you." He said smugly. "And don't you forget it. I
am the boss here and you're just a lowly house-folk."

"What's a House-folk?" Lucas ventured.

"People who live in Richard's house. Winifred, Richard... Justin. They're
who you should be playing with, not me." Then he took off through the
forest. Lucas followed.

Over logs and under branches, the two raced towards an unknown
destination. The twigs scratched Lucas' face as he whipped by them, trying
desperately to keep up with Desmond. The forest seemed determined to make
this impossible. He tripped, fell and got his clothing caught on nearly
everything. He called out to Desmond but the boy didn't slow down, he just
raced faster into the trees that swallowed him up. Even the leaves seemed
to drift back to where they were before Desmond disturbed them.

Lost, rejected and alone, Lucas fell to the forest floor weeping. "I've
only just come here," he sniffed, "and I already don't feel very welcome."
He cried for what seemed like forever until a small voice called out to
him.

"Don't be sad little human." Lucas opened his watery eyes and saw a small
person standing on his knee, too light to even feel. "Everyone feels a
little lonely and scared when they find something new." The small creature
looked female, but had grassy hair and leaves on its back that twitched now
and then.

"Who are you?" Lucas wiped away his tears.

"My name's Lily." She began to glow and the leaves flapped until they were
a mere blur somehow keeping her in flight. "Common... I'll take you to
Desmond. He's so stubborn, unlike like us!" her childish giggle echoed
through the forest, the trees seeming to relish in its sound, reverberating
off of them. She zoomed off, leaving a trail of light for Lucas to follow.

"Keep up!" The fairy giggled again as Lucas stumbled across the uneven
forest floor. "Common." She urged.

They soon reached a circle of standing sticks, sunlight piercing the tree
branches to light it up. The fairy flew into the circle and
disappeared. Cautiously, Lucas followed, unsure of what to expect.

Though he found Desmond, the boy was on his way out of the forest. He
seemed dejected, sad... Though what about, Lucas was unsure.

The next day, Desmond set out into the forest on a mission. Lucas followed
having been awoken by Desmond an hour before. Desmond was after something,
but Lucas did not know what. The older boy lead Lucas into the forest, deep
within, past where the fairy had taken him. It was unfamiliar territory and
the boy felt a degree of uneasiness that only came with complete terror of
the unknown.

"Agh... What do you want?" Desmond said as Lucas approached.

"What are you doing out here?" Lucas was trying to be friendly but it would
not work on Desmond's iron personality.

"It's none of your business. I'm here on a hunt that I found myself so you
have no business being here." Desmond turned away from the boy and
continued on his unseen path.

"Can I come? I like this game. It's mysterious."

"You idiot." Desmond turned to face the youth. "You think this is a game?
Why did the witches tell you that your parents died? Some freak accident?"

"They said that the monster under my bed got to them. But there wasn't a
monster under my bed. I checked every night."

"That's right. It was probably some sort of boogey man." The boy snorted
and continued deeper into the forest.

"Wait up!"

"Why should I?"

"Because I'm all alone!" Lucas didn't mean for it to come out that way, it
just did. But he was alone. Plucked from his family, Lucas had no one else
in the world to identify with. How could he ever survive if there was no
one he could talk to about his monumental problems?

Desmond stopped and turned around to face the boy. "Then hurry up." He said
after a long silence.

They reached a grove, perhaps made by the fairies, perhaps by natural means
the forest created it itself. It was impossible to tell. Though hardly a
word was spoken between the boys, the afternoon had crept up on them and
placed them in the middle of sunset.

"Where are we going?" Lucas asked.

"The Queen told me to keep going North. So that's what I'm doing." He said
in a condescending way,

"Who's the Queen?"

"Ugh... The Queen of the fairies, are you that dim?" hacking away at some
ferns, the boy brought them to a clearing in the forest. A rock face
adorned the back portion of it. Desmond looked around expecting something.

"Where are we?" Lucas asked.

"In a grove. Don't run, wahtever you do ok?"

"What would..." Before Lucas completed his sentence a fierce growl came
through the darkness of the forest. It sent a chill up Lucas' spin, yet
Desmond seemed unaffected. "What is that...?" Lucas asked, guessing that it
was inhuman.

"Don't ask." The boy said, pulling a gun from the back of his pants. He
aimed it into the abyss.

"Put that away! What is that!?" Lucas shouted.

"Be quiet! You'll only make it angry!" a snarl came from the bushes. A
second one came from atop the rock face. "Stay close to me." Desmond
grabbed the boy and pulled him close. Their hearts beat as one in the face
of whatever lurked in the shadows.

"What is it?" Lucas feared the answer more than the monster under his bed
or the one in his closet. This was perceived by two people, not just him,
alone in the dark.

"Werewolf." Desmond muttered. A huge shape plummeted down from the rock
face. It was humanoid, but animalistic. It had hair over its entire body
and it was androgynous. But its snarling growl meant business. "Don't run,
you'll only provoke it." But this warning fell of deaf ears as Lucas was
already 50 meters away in a solid sprint. "NO!!"

He ran out of fear, denying the orders that he thought he heard from
Desmond. All that mattered was getting as far away as possible. Dear god it
was going to kill him. He could hear the wolf-like panting growing closer
and closer until he could almost feel the warm breath on his neck. It was
over.

Lucas turned around to face his fate but nothing struck him.

"RUN!!!" Desmond screamed as the small boy bear hugged the werewolf. It was
to no avail and only managed to hold the wolf back for 3 seconds at
most. But it was enough to redirect its bloodlust. "Common you bastard..."
Desmond taunted.

A gun flashed in the dim sunlight. Desmond had a plan, he was hunting,
planning to kill this beast. "I've got you." Desmond whispered.

It truly was a wolf on hind legs. Front paws recoiled to its chest, ready
to strike. Desmond was its new target, its animal nature taking over. There
were two objects of easy prey. Not a problem. It lunged at Desmond,
snarling its teeth with its claws outstretched, poised for attack. Desmond
leapt away.

"Lucas!" the gun was tossed to him. Without a moment's hesitation, Lucas
pulled the trigger. A sound louder than any he had heard before rang
out. The werewolf laid on the ground, a smoking, sizzling bullet wound in
its stomach. The creature whined like a wounded dog, what it was. "Do it."
Desmond urged.

Lucas stared at the helpless creature, unable to deal the final blow. It
was after all an animal, a vicious one, but a poor animal none the
less. Desmond snatched the gun away.

"Pathetic." He said as the gun released its bullets again and again into
the werewolf, this time in its heart. The sound of a grieving wolf pack
sang through the sunset, coming from the corpse. It crippled and shrunk
until all that was left was a lifeless pile of fur. It was dead.

"I think I'm ready to go home now..." Lucas said as Desmond smirked.

"Wait..." A small voice came from behind them. They turned to see a
procession of small, pointy-eared people. Each had wings resembling leaves
and used them to hover at the height of the humans' faces. "We wish to give
the new comer a present."

A fairy much larger than the rest approached, dressed in purple robes in a
hollowed hazel nut shell, pulled by creatures so small, they were nearly
invisible if not looking right at them. She was beautiful in her
microscopic stature but carried with her a large silver medallion.

"I wish to give this token of appreciation to the one who liberated us from
the werewolf." The robed fairy said. "It has plagued us for many full moons
and to finally be rid of it will allow us to roam free during our most
magical and sacred of times." Her wings flittered and she rose with the
medallion to Lucas' face. "I thank you mortal for our freedom." With a wave
of her wand, seemingly made of cricket's leg, the medallion hung itself
around Lucas' neck. On a silver chain, the medallion hung half way down his
chest, much too large for a boy so young...

The following morning, the two boys were on their way to the forest when
Justin stopped them.

"Is this Lucas?" the large boy inquired. "Kinda scrawny." He poked Lucas a
few times.

"Hey, stop that." Desmond shoved Justin away. "Leave him alone."

"Hey I just wanna have a little fun with the rat. Commere Rat!" Justin
grabbed Lucas and threw him to the ground. Lucas grunted. "I'm the oldest,
so I get to initiate the newbies."

Lucas was fearful of what the initiation consisted of.

"He's got hunter's blood." Desmond said, shoving Justin to the side. "Don't
you dare touch him like that again." Desmond warned. He was much, much
smaller than Justin, but his courage made him a giant. "Ever." He
reiterated.

"What are you gonna do?" Justin laughed, "Fight me?"

"If I have to."

"Bring it! ...Pulsus!" Desmond flew backwards as Justin forced his open
hand forward, producing a slight distortion in space. Desmond landed in the
mud. "See? Don't mess with me kid."

Lucas pistol-whipped Justin as he turned around.

***

The final picture in her slideshow was of two hansom men, Desmond now
looking much more like Desmond and Lucas looking much scruffier and older
than previous photos.

"And then they went off together on their first hunt." She sighed in calm
remembrance. "They were so much closer when they came back. I can only
assume why..." She smiled. "But it was two years to the day that..." She
paused and wiped away an invisible tear.

"What?" I asked. This couldn't be the end of the story.

"Luke didn't come back from one hunt." She closed the album and rested it
on her lap gently. "Vampires again. They've taken everyone Desmond has ever
cared about. I'm not sure if it was all or at least part of the group that
killed his family, but Desmond cried for days... I had to hypnotize him
into eating or else he would have wasted away."

"What happened to Luke?"

"The body? Desmond said he burned it and scattered the ashes out in the
forest somewhere to be at peace. He refused to tell me where exactly and
the fairy's magic has hidden it from me. Fairies don't like grown ups you
see, once you become one, they don't show themselves to you anymore unless
they absolutely have to."

"That's so sad..."

"Yes, but now you know. It happened just over two years ago now." Winnie
stood up and put the album on the shelves in no particular order. "Well!
I've got to get back to my herbs and you've got to get to studying!" She
shooed me up the stairs.

"Say, whatever happened to Justin?" I turned my head towards the hundreds
of pictures lining the staircase to listen to her response.

After a long silence she settled on an answer. "One day when he was about
your age he just got up and left. I haven't heard from him since and have
not been able to find him. He simply... Disappeared. Maybe he willed
himself away, maybe he perished. Lacking an answer bothers me to this
day..."

"Willed himself away?" I pondered aloud.

"He had strong magik within him... If he had trained himself without my
knowledge, he could will himself to be elsewhere and he simply would." She
looked to the floor with hopelessness. "I miss him."

Unsatisfied, I continued up the stairs to the landing. I walked slowly
across the creaking floor boards to the study and slowly opened the
door. Desmond was snoring loudly, drooling onto the collar of his coat that
he wore for some strange reason. When I slammed the door, he awoke with a
start and his hand suddenly had a gun in it, pointed at me.

"Oh... Hey Tim." He smiled and placed the gun on the table beside him. I
smiled, wanting to hug him, to console him after finding out the truth. But
something told me that he didn't even want me to know in the first
place. So instead I winked at him and read all about a Kimeris.

***

Hours later, Desmond put his hands on my shoulders, massaging them
slightly. "What do you say we get outta here?"

I tilted my head back so that it pressed against his abs. "I dunno. I have
so much to learn about Vepar the Demoness that if I leave now, I'll never
know how to get her to make the oceans roar with storms." I said, much more
grandiosely than necessary. Desmond smiled down at me.

"Well tell you what, I'll let you in on the secret if you have a shot of
tequila." That was enough for me. The next thing I knew, we were in the
local bar tipping back a shot.

"Can I see some ID there bud?" the server asked me.
	"Do you honestly think that I'd bring a minor here Keith?" Desmond
asked the server with a raised brow. "I like to think you know I'm smarter
than that. Why would I set my favorite bar up to get its license taken
away?" Keith stammered a moment. "Ok then, another two my good sir!" They
were delivered.

"You are amazing!" I said drunkenly. After the 4th shot, it started to get
to me. "How do I know you're not lying to about everything?" I demended.

"Because I can't..." He trailed off.

"Ok." I burped. "Then why is it, that Winnie needs me close to her?"

He looked at me, his eyes seemed less vibrant. "She needs you to be safe. I
need you to be safe."

"Why?" I burped again. "This is all kinda fishy... Ironside fellow told me
he was hunting a hunter hunting me. Was it you?" I think that writing that
sentence makes it seem a lot less slurred than it really came out. It was
probably something like: `hiss ll kinda fshy... i-ronsd fellow tld em e was
hntn a hntr hntn me. Whsst yeh?'

"I'm not sure what you're saying, but I think it was something like `I need
another shot.' Keith!" he stuck up two fingers at the bartender. I grabbed
them.

"Do you know what I want you to do with these?" Again, imagine the
inebriation. Desmond smirked at me. "No! You're not allowed to be
irresistible right now. This is serious." He put his other hand in front of
his mouth to stifle the laughter. "Stop it!"

"I can't help it." He chuckled some more.

"Did you laugh like this at Lucas?" His eyes died and his hand leapt from
his mouth to his chest grasping his shirt tightly.

"You wouldn't understand." His eyes watered and eyebrows turned downwards,
he leaned back into the leather cushion that was nailed to the bench,
severing all physical ties with me.

I collected myself. "You really do still..." I searched his face for a sign
that my words made an impact. Finding none, I didn't bother to finish the
sentence. I knew the answer, and I didn't want to hear it out loud. Fuck my
life.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, as if trying to make it inaudible to me. "I
wanted to just forget, but it's harder than I thought. You wouldn't
understand." That last part he meant for me to hear, said louder, more
forcefully.

"All about a fairy Queen in the woods? How she gave him that for taking out
the werewolf?" I motioned towards his hand, still clenched at his chest.

Shock replaced his neutral expression. "She told you...?" He let go of his
shirt, seeming to forget I mentioned anything related to Lucas. "There
haven't been fairies in those woods since a boy disappeared from Winnie's
house when I was young. They told me before they left that a great evil had
come to the house to take him away and that they could no longer stay so
close to where evil stood." He sucked on his teeth. "But I guess Winnie
told you that too huh?"

"No..." This was turning out to be much more than a drunken conversation
about our lives. "No she neglected that part."

"What the fuck?"

"Oh my god!"

Screams came from the bar. They were bone chilling. A young woman, as if
she was being ripped apart there and then. Desmond and my gaze shot over to
the scene. A man was grabbing at the screaming woman, blood dripping from
his mouth. He had her almost pinned, except for the three men he ignored
that were trying to pull him back. Though they were muscular biker-types,
they had a hell of a time getting him off of her.

"Hey!" The bikers and the man looked to Desmond. His gun erupted, sending a
bullet through the man's head, embedding itself in one of the biker's
thighs.

"Mother fucker!" he shouted.

"I'm sorry." Desmond said moving over to the woman, moaning on the
ground. I followed him. A large piece of flesh was missing from her back
left shoulder, it was bleeding profusely. Keith pressed on it with a dish
cloth from the bar. "It's ok." Desmond said, "You're gonna be fine, just a
flesh wound. No big deal."

The woman didn't believe him and screamed anyways.

The man who attacked her was laying on the ground beside the bikers who
were tending to their own wounded. He was wearing a dusty beige suit, his
hair was long and his skin was sunken and grey.

"Holy shit." Keith said. "That's Harold Neknolty..." Nothing strange about
that. "He died a month ago." Huh? "Heart attack..."

"Close all the windows and doors." Desmond said. "And get me some salt." He
looked to me. "And a lot of bread and water."

***

"Zombies Desmond? I knew that you and Winifred were up to some crazy shit,
but really?" Keith said, bandaging up Laura, the girl who was bitten.

"I don't care what you think. But would a man who died a month ago walk
into a bar and tear a chunk out of some girl?" He pointed his gun at Laura
while talking to Keith. I finished salting the final window in the bar. 13
of us were inside. Lucky. "Now you can fight with me on this all you want
but I can hear some moaning outside. D'you wanna chance getting eaten?
Alive?"

Keith put his head down, paying more attention to Laura's wound.

"Done." I went over to Desmond and he gripped his hand on my arm.

"Good job." Even in tense circumstances he was still warm and caring. What
was going on inside his head!? "Keith, if you have any ammo for these
things," he nodded to the hunting rifles around the bar, "get it."

"There's a box in the back..." he went to retrieve it.

"Wait..." A thin man said, stepping from the surrounding mob into the
center of the room. "If she was bitten by a zombie... Will she become
one...?" This provoked a worried uproar from the rest of the patrons. A few
stepped forward in hostility.

"No... NO!" Desmond pointed his gun at those who stepped forward. "It's a
good point but there's no reason to be hasty." He lowered his weapon as the
mob merged back into the collective. "Some zombies are made through bites,
all Resident Evil and shit. But some aren't. Some are made by magik, and if
so, she's not gonna become one." He looked to the sweating, gasping woman
and closed his eyes. "Tie her up." She screamed in protest as objects with
rope or leather straps were taken down from the decorated walls to bind
her.

"Diz..." I felt his arm. "What can I do?" I had a shotgun now, loaded from
Keith's successful ammo run. "I want to help. And fucking hell I can help."
A series of scratching and moaning came from the front door, blocked by
tables and stools. "If they're viral, they'll get through the salt." I
said, earning an approving smile from Desmond. "Lock and load!" I called to
the bikers who held the rifles and shotguns, now loaded. "Aim for the head
and don't miss, we've got a limited supply here." They `yea'd in
acknowledgement.

Thunder clapped from outside and rain began to fall onto the roof, making a
deafening sound inside the bar. It was a torrential down pour.

"Damnit Keith!" Desmond shouted. "I told you to get this shit fixed!" I
looked to the front door to see it leaking, the salt running in a river
towards the lowest part in the bar. The line was broken, anything could get
through that door.

The door jerked forward with a smash. The wood splintered and the people
gasped, pushing to the walls as far from the door as possible. Keith should
have fixed the windows too. At the same time, two people on opposite sides
of the room were ripped out by something. The glass shattered and the rain
got in, ruining the salt lines further. My work was useless in the rain.

"It's not a virus..." Desmond breathed heavily. "It's something else. And
it wants us dead." The crowd of 9 civilians moved to the center of the room
in a huddle. Desmond and I stood facing the door with our guns ready. The
bikers watched the windows without being told. "Shoot if it moves!" Desmond
ordered.

A gun sprang into action, putting shrapnel into the wall around the
window. "Got it!" the attacker called out. A corpse hanging half into the
window confirmed it.  The people grew squeamish. I can guarantee this is
not how they wanted to spend their evening.

"Ugh..." A woman grabbed her stomach and looked at though she might throw
up. Desmond and I turned around to look at her. As we did, she was thrown
against the wall, screaming as she was gutted, blood spattering the wall,
floor and nearby tables. As she fell to the floor dead, a man in 19th
century clothing flashed beside her corpse. Its image blinked and it moved
towards the group of 7... 7?

"No... This is a zombie uprising..." Desmond worried. He sprang towards the
specter and tried to tackle it. It displaced to the other side of the
room. "Iron! Keith get me something iron!" the man disappeared into the
kitchen.

A dying scream came from the kitchen and I ran to the swinging door. Each
pass in front of my vision gave me a different view of the zombie tearing
pieces off of Keith and shoving them into its mouth insatiably. It noticed
me. I aimed and fired, spreading its head on the pristine white walls of
the kitchen. I looked around hastily and grabbed a big pot and a few frying
pans.

A spirit dissipated as I threw the massive iron chili-pot at it. I gasped
open-mouthed at Desmond who absent-mindedly fired a shot into a zombie's
skull that was crashing through the front door. More behind it tried to
crawl over it to get to their prey.

"Iron cookware." I threw a frying pan to one of the civilians, a male in
his 50s. I finally took my eyes off Desmond to smack a ghost in the face
with my pan, producing a very loud, very stereotypical frying pan-hitting
sound. The ghost disappeared in a swirl of glowing dust.

When the sun peeked over the horizon, there were the two bikers and Laura
left along with Desmond and I. Like sitting ducks, the spirits and zombies
picked the civilians off one by one, except for one faceless guy that
seemed to have slipped out during the ordeal. But once the sun came up, the
rain stopped and so did the attacks on the small bar.

Us four men helped Laura into an empty car and the two bikers took off
towards the hospital, swearing to say the bar was attacked by a savage
cult.

"Who is going to believe that?" I asked Desmond whose arm hung around my
shoulders.

"It doesn't matter, so long as they do I don't..." a meteor slammed into
the departing car, flattening it in an eruption of flames. We both stared
awestruck at the burning wreckage until Desmond pushed me aside as another
meteor slammed into the spot where we were standing.

"What the fuck!?" I shouted.

"INSIDE!!" Desmond screamed.

Desmond dove on top of me as a third meteor obliterated the entrance to the
bar. In the dank, dusty stronghold, Desmond looked down at me. "You
alright?" he said, millimeters from my face. I lurched up to kiss him in
confirmation. It was short lived as moans came from outside the bar.

"It's toying with us." Desmond pulled me to my feet. "It wanted us to think
that we were safe during the day."

"What is it? I haven't gotten this far in my books."

"Me either apparently... Some kind of sorcerer... Necromancer. I don't
know!" He shot a female zombie, making her head explode into decomposing
goo. "We need to get to Winnie, the house. We're safe there." He grabbed my
hand and pulled me outside to a hoard of undead.

There was about 10 of them surrounding Desmond's car, seeming to know
that's where we were headed. Our only escape.

Desmond shot two in the head before he began to reload. They came closer
and closer to us. I could smell their rotting flesh. Their faces weren't
much easier to look at. Missing ears, eyes and flesh to decomposition. I
took aim and fired. Empty.

"Reload!" Desmond shouted as they were coming upon us.

Instinctively, I thrust my hand outwards, open palmed, fingers tense and
bent slightly. "Pulsus!" My hearing skipped a beat, as did my vision. As
the whiteout faded back to colour, my hand was engulfed in an aura of
altered space, as if I was seeing it through a wave pool. The zombies were
a few feet away on their backs struggling to stand back up using undead
mentality. My hand returned to normal, but wrinkled. It hurt more than I
can tell you. The joints swelled and curved as the skin grew grey and
spotted. It was almost arthritic.

Desmond stared in disbelief for a moment, but only for a moment before
throwing me into the car and speeding off.

"You wanna tell me where you learned that?" Desmond half asked, half
demanded. A meteor slammed into the road behind us, lurching the car
forward with its force.

"I don't know! I just did it..." I nursed my hyper-aged hand in my youthful
one.

Desmond glanced at it then back to the road, just in time to steer clear of
another crashing meteor. "If Winnie has been teaching you anything..." He
shook his head in a threatening manner. Not to me, but to her.

"No, she just told me the story of how Justin did it to you and... It just
clicked into my mind. It was the only thing I could think of doing to save
you... us..." I stumbled.

"She has been teaching you."

"No, she just..."

"That's how she does it Tim. She just implants thoughts in your head and
lets you sort them out! I'm gonna kill her." He sucked on his teeth. "Not
another one..." he said quietly.

"She taught Lucas things then didn't she?" I studied his expression but it
failed to change. "Didn't she?!"

"Alright! Yes! She did... But he didn't age." He looked at me, the look was
unmistakably worried, for something other than my hands' well being.

The car tumbled towards Winnie's house, stopping in what you could call the
parking lot, a series of tire treads in hardened, grassless earth.

We made for the front door. "Look out!" Desmond pushed me to the ground and
we both looked up to the sky as yet another meteor exploded three stories
above us. Its pieces disintegrated unnaturally fast before they reached
anywhere near us.

"I don't like this shit!" I said, being pulled up and into the house.

"WINIFRED!" Desmond screamed. "Where are you witch?!" He stormed through
the house. Not finding her on the first floor, he thumped up the stairs two
at a time. I went after him.

Failing to open the door to her laboratory, he kicked it in. The latch gave
way easily. Winnie sat in the middle of the room, in the center of the
pentagram drawn on the floor, eyes closed. A small bowl sat in front of
her. As I stared at her, a bubble was scarcely visible around her,
extending out to the tips of the pentagram, sparkling slightly. If I moved
my eyes or blinked, it disappeared until I looked at her for a few
moments. It appeared as if she was casting.

Desmond contained himself from talking about what I had done and what it
had done to my hand. "What is it...?" He ground his teeth together.

"Silence." She demanded. Outside of the small window, the only one in the
room, meteors were falling, hundreds of them. They fell into the dried
grass and it caught on fire. As the brambles burned, it was clear that if
the wards and salt line were going to keep whatever it was from getting to
us, then it would burn us out of hiding.

"Ah shit." Desmond said, realizing what I had.

Winnie took in a deep and audible breath as her body seemed to fill with
life. Her head tilted back and her eyes opened, they were solid blue,
shining against the dim room. As the last of the breath escaped her, her
eyes faded to normal and the surge of life seemed to leave as well. She
hunched over a moment then stood up, composing herself. The shimmering
bubble around her faded.

"How dare you teach him that!" Desmond roared. "Look what you've done!" He
grabbed my hand and shoved it towards her face. She did not blink but I
grimaced in pain.

"Yes, look what I've done." She pointed to the window. A misty rain
engulfed the field, extinguishing the fires caused by the meteors.
"Manipulating the weather is not easy Desmond. And before you say what
you're thinking, that I don't care about either of you, know this: I had to
ponder every possible way that that bar fight you had could turn out. I had
to calculate what that Lich would do if you got away and whether or not you
would escape it. I had to stir a dragon to conjure this minor fog so that
when you got here, you would be safe!" she seemed as furious as Desmond.
But she was a witch, that made it worse. "So before you accuse me of
teaching your friend here Pulsus," a few jars shook and a slight wind
grazed my face, "think about all that!" She stormed from the room, the door
slamming itself behind her. "The nerve!" she could be heard saying as she
walked down the hall.

"So I guess it's a Lich." I said matter-of-factly.

"Raiser of legions of undead, dark sorcerer, returned spirit to its now
dead human body... We can't burn the bones on this one... They're up and
walking around."