Infected: Dawn of the Xanmares (RPG Thread)

[Undrave]

Allright here is the actual RPG thread! Now before we begin let's set a few rules to make this an enjoyable experience for everybody:

1-NO Godmodding! Try not to make your character too powerful (take a few hits from time to time dangit!) and respect other's characters.

2-There will be a limit of 4 posts a day. I'm counting on you guys to enforce this on your own. This will ensure the story advanced at a nice pace and doesn't overwhelm players with too much content.

3-In relation to rule #2 please do not start a ridiculous amount of storyline at once. You can start character development plot lines and relationship problems, but when it comes to Pod-related cases and investigations, try not to just randomly start one and do your best to integrate yourself into one. I don't want to see more than 3 cases going on at once.

4-to make it clearer please place the name of the character you are focusing on before posting. This won't apply to MY first post because it would ruin its mood, but afterward I'll adere to that rule myself.

5-Feel free to create NPC Infected when they need to appear, but understand that others are free to use them or add on to them. All that is required is that what is established be respected. If I say the Infected we're fighting is actually a cow, then don't come and say it's the farmer (that is unless the cow thing was a THEORY and not proven, then you can mess with us).

I think that covers all... above all else though try to have fun and create an engaging and interesting story! Let's all have fun!

(Oh and don't worry, not all my posts will be this ridiculously huge ^^


----------------------

“Allright men get in position! The target will be here in less than 2 minutes!†Barked Sergeant Parker of the Arizona National Guard.

His team dropped out of their vehicles after parking them in a semi-circle form in the middle of the desert road and took position behind them with their weapons ready. Parker knew this formation was plenty pointless, has whatever they were sent to stop was no moving on wheels and could easily avoid the blockade. At best the light armour vehicles they had used to come would serve had defensive wall for them. The sergeant surveyed the dark desert around. This was a remote location in the middle of nowhere, and the only lights beside the ones from their own vehicles were from the lone helicopter far ahead that was following their target.

Their target... Parker didn’t like the lack of information on it. Information on the enemy were crucial in a combat situation, and here he had nothing! All he knew is that whatever they had to stop had suddenly appear in a little town nearby, trashed the place, crushed the sheriff’s car and had already went through another blockade meant to prevent the…creature…to advance toward the nearby military base. Now his little troupe of reservists was the last thing between the creature and the base half a mile behind him. So far the creature had followed the main road but the sergeant, as he verified his ammunitions, prayed to God that it would change course.

In a way his prayers were answered when a black sedan suddenly rushed toward them and parked behind the rows of vehicles. Parker cursed under his breath at the sight. Weren’t the cops supposed to prevent this sort of thing? He got up from his hiding spot and walked toward the car.

“This is a military operation; you have to turn back NOW!†He said loudly, pointing towards where the car came from.

“We know sergeant.†Said a commanding female voice.

A woman with red hair in an air force lieutenant uniform and a dark skinned man in a black three piece suit came out of the car.

“I am Agent Mallow and this is Lieutenant Fitzpatrick. We’re here to handle this situation ourselves.†Said the man, flashing a badge with a design unfamiliar to Parker.

“Now wait a minute here…†Started Parker, until the woman shoved a written order in his face.

It gave the man, Mallow of S.T.A.G.E., power over any National Guard unit in the state. It had the President’s seal at the bottom. By the time Parker had stopped reading the woman was gone. He looked around and saw her walking down the road, alone. She was taking off her jacket and i n one felt movement threw out into the wind.

“What the heck is going on here and what is this ‘S.T.A.G.E.’ thing?†Asked the sergeant to Agent Mallow.

“It’s classified. You’re to remain at this location until further notice. My partner will handle the target.†Simply replied the man.

“She’s alone! And unarmed!â€

“Alone yes…but not unarmed.†And with that cryptic word Agent Amarao went back to his car and shut himself in.

Down the road lieutenant Olivia Fitzpatrick kept on walking. A soft breeze blew in her and she sighed, looking in the distance at the helicopter following the target. Even from the distance she could tell it was big and wide. The chopper was actually sent by S.T.A.G.E. and Olivia knew the pilote, an acquaintance when she belonged to a squadron with a number in its name rather than a letter. She dodged a thumbleweed as it went across the road and she smirked at the cliché. She was getting closer and closer now, in a few minute her and the creature would meet.

She raised her left arm up, revealing a wide black brace around it. It had an interface with buttons and a screen similar to a small cellphone embedded in it. The S.T.A.G.E. logo, covered with a large ‘X’ was engraved on it. She punched in the cell number of her partner.

“Mallow here. I read you LigonCon.†Said the man on the other side.

“Get a Genoshifter ready. The target appears to have a humanoid shape so I will operate under the posibility of a human Infected. And for your information I’d prefer if you’d use my codename only after I became LigonCon.â€

“Would you rather I call you by your file number, Subject X-00?â€

“Not really. Just get the Genoshifter ready. Fitzpatrick out.â€

By that time the large creature that was running down the road came to a halt, startled by the sudden appearance of a lone human. It looked at the woman before her, before looking up at the helicopter above and roaring loudly. Fitzpatrick had never seen a Xanmare that big before. It was certainly 7 and half foot in heigh and almost as wide as she was tall. It looked like a giant beetle with fish elements thrown in. A tad too aquatic in design for the desert, but she figured the Xanmare Pods didn’t choose where to land. She stared at it for a second before a name came to her instinctively. The one inside of her knew this one.

“XanGarea.†She muttered.

This seemed to caught the feral’s attention somewhat, distracting it from the still hovering chopper. While fighting for control of the body with the host’s will, a Xanmare will enter a blind feral rage and lash out at anything around it. This fury was theorised, by the scientists of S.T.A.G.E., to be a defense mechanism implanted within the pods to assure that no one could disturb the process. Olivia’s job today was to do just that.

“Let’s get this over with.†She said, punching in a code of four digits into the keypad of her brace, before pressing the ‘send’ button.

“Genoshift engaged.†Came a voice from the device.

In a split second the familiar sensation of her body warping and transforming overcame her. Pain ran through her body as metal plates, scales and exoskelleton pieces grew out of her skin, covering her clothes in the process, assimilating them, while her inside were totally rewritten following a new, alien, roadmap different from her own. She cried out in pain just as her mouth was hidden behind a metal grate. It didn’t take long for the athletic petite human woman to be replaced by a six feet tall female warrior in biotechnological armor.

“Genoshift Complete. LigonCon deployed.†Added the device, now integrated to her forearm plating.

Now before the monstrous XanGarea, or at least the creature trying to become XanGarea, stood a greenish grey being with black armor, a metal horn on her forehead and long claws on her left hand. Seeing this seemed to make the target react as it bared its shark fangs and let out a loud howl. LigonCon raised her left arm up, before dashing forward, determined to strike first.

“Let’s do this and quickly.†Said LigonCon, Fitzpatrick’s voice being distorted and changed just like the rest of her body.

He claw slash was deflected by one of the massive forearm of the enemy as he took a step backward. Continuing her movement and using her left foot, which was already forward, as a pivot point she kept her momentum going and after briefly exposing her back she dug her right heel into the side of the creature with a reversed roundhouse kick. XanGarea bviously didn’t like that. He grabbed at her leg in response, only to see her apply her right palm to his arm and deliver a surprise electric shock. Once again XanGarea roared out and threw LigonCon right off the road with incredible strength, as if she was but a rag doll.

The howl that escaped XanGarea after the electric shock travelled through the cool desert air and reached the nationnal guard unit up the road.

“What in the name of the Lord was that?!†Asked one of Parker’s men.

“Nothing you should concerned yourself with.†Said Mallow as he emerged from his vehicle, this time holding a strange black object in his hand.â€Sargeant, have one of your vehicle move so that I may reach my partner when she calls on me.â€

“I still don’t like this.†Simply said Parker, as he signalled one of his suboordinate.

LigonCon rolled on the ground for a feet or two but she quickly recovered and got up to one knee. She looked in the direction of the road but XanGarea was gone. Her instinct kicked in and she looked up, just in time to see her target falling down toward her, both fist raised above his head. She threw herself backward, managing to land more or less gracefully back to her feet just as the monster landed from his leap and kicked up a massive cloud of dirt.

The helicopter’s searchlight started to circle the dust cloud trying to help the ally below. Instintively LigonCon raised her bladed hand up in a defensive position. Now was not the time to be taken by surprise.

Then the dust cloud started to settle and she realised that XanGarea was no longer in it. That massive thing hadn’t just run off without her realising it, and even if she could have missed it the chopper wouldn’t have. She ran toward the last position of her target but realised at the last second it had been a mistake.

XanGarea hadn’t run away, he had dissapeared underground. In an explosion of sand, dirt and rock he appeared behind her. She managed to turn around to face him but it was too late to retaliate as she found herself crushed by the weight of the bigger Xanmare, her wrist held away from her body by the strong hands of the creature and her legs kept together by its knees. The impact was painful due to the akward position and the added weight of XanGarea atop of her. It roared, spitting on her visor as it bared its teeth, clearly intending to use its massive jaw to finish her off.

“Amateur.†She simply said before letting loose one massive jolt of electricity through the horn on her forhead.

The roar turned into a howl of pain as she kept the attack going, exhausting herself in this last ditch effort. She gritted her teeth and endured the strain until the creature’s grip loosened and he collapsed. She gasped and grunted for a good minute before she managed to push the Xanmare off of her. She got up, dusted herself, and gave a thumb up to the pilot of the helicopter.

“Mallow, get that Genoshifter over here stat. I don’t know how long the big guy is gonna stay stunned.†She said in her Genoshifter.

“Copy that. On my way.†Came the simple answer.

LigonCon gave a soft kick to the fainted form of the Xanmare“You better thank me when you wake up. It would have been easier to just dispose of you.â€

A different four digit code was entered into the key pad before she pressed the ‘end’ button.

“Genoshift engaged.â€

The same process that transformed her into LigonCon then took effect in reverse. This was just as painful, but in a sense it felt like deliverance. It didn’t take long for the human woman to reappear and feel the soft breeze on her skin once again.

“Genoshift complete. LigonCon on stand-by.â€

The roar of an engine was heard as Mallow drove down the road at full speed, obviously not caring for the legal speed limit. He stopped his car by the road and completed the trek by foot, carefully avoiding the area where the Xanmare had dug to escape underground. When he got to the target he found Fitzpatrick sitting on a large rock.

“He’s a digger? That could come in handy.†Commented the man.

“Yeah… I could use the assist. Genoshifting is taxing.†Replied the woman.

The man kneeled down and pulled out a device similar to the one worn by Fitzpatrick, only this one was just a small box without the brace part that allowed it to be strapped to an arm. He applied it to the underside of the thind’s massive wrist and punched in a command of 10 digits.

“Human DNA detected. Human DNA analyzed. Extrapolating. Initiating Genoshift.†Droned the device’s computer voice.

Soon, right before their eyes XanGarea started to transform, shrinking in size as the human side within took control once again, with a little technological help. A minute later, instead of an unconscious monster, they had an unconscious naked teenager laying in the desert.

Agent Mallow took off his jacked to wrap around the now human target and then latched additionnal part to the Genoshifter in order to fasten it correctly around its wearer’s wrist, just like it was on Lieutenant Fitzpatrick.

“Let’s go back to HQ as quickly as possible, hopefully before he wakes up.†Said Mallow.

Olivia simply nodded and motionned for the pilot to come down before turning back to her partner “Better radio Parker and tell him his team can just leave…say did you think of grabbing my vest on the way?â€

------------

Oliver Wilson woke up groaning, aching all over and confused. It took him a few seconds to realise he had no idea where he was. Above him was an unknown grey ceiling and a fluroescent tube hidden behind a panel of glass into the ceiling was shining down on him. He could remember his last stop in a small town in the desert and then feeling the voice in his head grow stronger and his body started to change once again… and then nothing. At least the voice seemed to be gone now. This nagging voice in the back of his head telling him to destroy everything or ranting in an unknown language.

Getting up he realise he was in a small windowless cell, on a cot. There was a sink and a toilet in the other corner and that was it. His clothes that had probably been ripped apart by his latest transformation had been replaced by an army overall, the kind you see airforce officers wear in tv shows or movies. No boots though, only socks. The teenager got up and ran a hand through his hair and that’s when he noticed something around his left arm. It looked like a thick black cross between a cellphone and a watch. The boy tried to find how to take it off.

“I would keep it on if I were you.†Said a female voice, interupting his fumbling.

Oliver looked up to see a red headed woman in cargo pants and a white t-shirt on the other side of his cell’s bars. She showed that she too was wearing one of those black thing.

“It’s the only thing keeping them under control.â€

The young man walked up to her confused “Them?â€

She had a knowing smile on “You know what I mean. The Xanmares.â€

Their glares crossed and for a second they looked into each other’s eyes. For that split second Oliver felt a surge of hatred, anger, and at the same time familiarity rush through him. He took a step back. Yes he knew the name… the thing inside of him called itself a Xanmare.

“You…you too?†He asked with hope in his voice.
“Yup…what’s your name kid?â€

“Oliver…Oliver Wilson.â€

She smiled again “Strange coincidence… my name’s Olivia, Lieutenant Olivia Fitzpatrick. Com’on I got things to show you.†She said, unlocking the cell’s door.

Oliver exited the cell and followed her to a table where a pair of boots and an access pass were waiting for him.

“Where are we?†He asked.

“You are 70 feet below a mountain in the middle of nowhere in Wyoming, in the headquarters of S.T.A.G.E..â€

“S.T.A.G.E.?â€

Oliver was then given a full tour of the secret S.T.A.G.E. HQ during the rest of the day. He was told all about this secret organisation. How they are in charge of any extraterrestrial incident investigation, and of the origin of the Squadron X and the Xanmare pods. He met Agent Mallow, the leader of S.T.A.G.E. and some of the scientists. After making sure the Genoshifter was working for him, the young man was offered a position in Squadron X. Him and Olivia were on the catwalk overlooking the mess hall, only an hour after the briefing where he was offered the position.

“So thought about the proposition?†Asked Fitzpatrick.

“I…I don’t know. I have this thing inside of me and you are the only ones that know how to handle it but… I don’t really like to rely on others… I’ve been abandonned far too often.†He said, leaning on the railing.

Olivia sighed and leaned against it as well “I won’t lie to you kid… the scientists aren’t even sure they’ll ever be able to take those things from out of us… and I gotta say Genoshifting is not a walk in the park. It’s uncomfortable, can be even downright painful, and ends up being very taxing… and the fights aren’t always easy. I’m sure you wouldn’t want others to end up like us huh?â€

“No… I wouldn’t. I’d rather find all the pods before anybody gets hurt… beside I got nowhere else to go.†Oliver took a pause “Well I guess I’m in then. I’d rather earn my food if I’m to stay here.â€

Olivia nodded “Good then. It’ll be easier for me. Now we’ll just need to find you an agent partner!â€

---------

A month of training later and Oliver was a confirmed member of Squadron X. He was in his quarter looking at himself in a full-length mirror. He had on a black three-piece suit with white shirt and a black tie. He felt a bit stiff and silly looking, but his new partner had insisted he look the ‘federal agent’ part. There was a knock at the door, and without waiting for his answer the person on the other side came in.

“Hiya Olie-boy!†Said a blonde woman in a joyful southern voice. “How d’ya like the new suit?â€

The woman was Sophia Larc, his partner. She was raised somewhere in the south, the young man didn’t know where, and was a rather exhuberant person with sometimes geeky tastes. A month ago Oliver would have complained about her uninvited entrance but he had already gotten used to her way.

“I don’t know… I never had a suit…or anything this classy for that matter.†He commented, thuging at his collar.

“It looks good on ya. Plus we match now… altough I don’t the black tie is SO not ya… it’s a good thing ‘cuz I got a gift to celebrate our new partner ship.†She replied, producing a small box.

This surprised Oliver greatly, as he wasn’t used to any sort of gift.h…thanks.â€

He opened the box and found a deep blue tie and a silver-plated tie pin ornated with a small stag beetle. With urging from Sophia he put both on.

“Great! Much better!†She said, giving him a thumb up. “I chose the stag beetle ‘cuz I think that’s when you look like when you go all super-hero!â€

“I’m not a super-hero Sophia.†He told her.

“Well maybe not yet, but we got ourselves our first mission.†She said, producing a slip of paper from her pocket. “We’re going to upstate New-York with a more experienced pair! Something about a missing person or two and mutilated cattle on an alpaga farm… or was it a llama farm? I forgot…oh well…we’ll review the file during the chopper trip!â€

 

[Henshiner]

New York, NY 3:21 PM


In the streets of New York, the many people of the city drove to and from work, ignorant of what was happening.

One man was not.

Detective Duncan Westly was parked in his car, a rusty red Cadillac, waiting. Waiting for what he hoped was a man. A man with answers. Answers to the many questions he had. Questions which had been picking at his head for months.

The man's name was Dr. Demetri Svoltich, a Russian scientist who somehow got into the country. With the US Government's help.

In Duncan's lap lay a file, almost as thick as a dictionary, but with most of it's information either 'missing' or blocked out. The file contained the history of Dr. Svoltich up till 1967. The same year the Moscow Blackout took place. The week when all of Moscow was covered in darkness and panic spread like wildfire. The Russian officials said that it was a work of a Nuclear powerplant overloading, causing the main circuits to break. But not all of the world leaders were convinced. An official investgation was held, but no evidence of something else taking place was found, so it was dropped.

But what relevance would an incident 40 years ago have to do with one scientist? Surely it meant nothing tday as it did then. that's what Duncan thought 2 months ago, when this all started. When Duncxan was thrown into an unknown war...

(2 months ago 4:46 NYPD Police Station)


"What do you mean I'm off the case?" yelled Duncan. In the office of Police Cheif Palmer, Duncan was given news of which he was not happy about.

"I'm sorry, Duncan," said Cheif Palmer, "But it's out of my jurisdiction. Our orders are from the Fed's is to stay out of this case. It's a matter of national security-"

"National security?" interrupted Duncan, "A family was murdered! They had no ties to any government or political figures, they each were born and raised in this country, how could a family from the suburbs be a threat to our country?"

"That's none of your concern." said the Cheif sternly, "YOUR concern should be that they didn't press charges on you for assaulting one of their agaents!"

"That's what they're calling assault these days? Asking questions and trying to investigate a homicide? They're trying to cover something up, Cheif. Something happened in that house that they don't want us to know! What we need to do is-"

"What You need to do is calm down!" yelled the Cheif, "You're the top graduate from your class and have the highest arrest record this department has seen in a long time, I'd expect some of this paranoid BS from someone else, but you?" There was a pause as the Cheif got a hold of his anger, taking some of his heart medication. "I know this is a difficult situation, but you need to understand. This is the big leagues now. You can't be gung ho and expect to get the bust each time. Sometimes, you just need to pass things off to people able to handle this situation. And while you may not like it, that's how things work." The Cheif paused for a moment then continued. "I recommend you take some time off. Cool down a bit. Relax. Maybe you'll be able to think clearly when you come back."

Duncan stared at the Cheif, his eyes filled with spite. He then reached into his jacket and threw his badge onto the Cheif's desk and left, slamming the door on his way out.

Duncan walked out into the street and paused, looking up into the sky. Maybe he was thinking too much. Perhaps this was something simple. and not a conspiracy. Maybe-

"Excuse me, officer?"

Duncan looked back down to see an old man in a green jacket and striped scarf standing next to him. By the man's accent, Duncan could tell that he was a foreigner. Russian perhaps.

"How can I help you?" said Duncan. Helping this old man might help Duncan relax a bit.

"I need you to help me." said the man, "My name is Jorvik Normciff. I believe someone is following me. I think they may be trying to silence me." Jorvik continually looked behind himself, as if expecting someone to be there.

"Wait, silence you?" said Duncan, "Who is they? Why are they trying to silence you?" A barrage of questions filled Duncan's mind, but none of them would be answered. A lound bang filled the air and the old man fell to the ground, a bullet lodged in his skull. The crowd of people around them screamed and ran in terror, confusion and chaos was rampant.

Blood was on Duncan's face as the shock from what happened began to sink in. When logic returned, Duncan saw a man stick out from the frieghtened crowd. The man wore an all black oufit with a hood, scarf, and sunglasses. Most unusual of all, he was merely walking away from the shooting when everyone else was in a panic.

"Hey!" yelled Duncan. The masked man turned and sprinted way from the crimescene, headed towards an alley. Duncan pulled out his gun and began to pursue the man.

Duncan reached the alley and saw the man, standing in the middle of it, staring at Duncan. Duncan raised his gun and pointed it at the assailant.

"NYPD! Drop your weapon, put your hands in the air, and get down on the ground!" Duncan slowly got closer, his gun aimed at the man's head. The man did as Duncan said and placed his gun on the ground. He then raised his hands into the air. Suddenly, the man's arms stretched into the air like rubber and began to scale the alley walls.

Duncan looked in a combination of shock and awe as the intangible man reached the top. Duncan was able to get 4 shots off, all of which hit the man dead on, but none of them made the man slow down his pace. But, a bullet hit the man's jacket and knocked a large file out of place, sending it tumbling to the ground. Duncan took his attention off the suspect and looked at the folder. When he turned back to the roof, the man was gone.

Duncan walked up to the file, keeping an eye on the roof in case the man came back for it. He then picked up the file and read the cover, much to his shock. On it was the word CONFIDENTCIAL in bold red letters. Duncan opened the file and was shocked at what he saw.

A picture of a group of scientists was on top of the stack of papers. On it was 10 men in labcoats, all middle-aged and in what looked like a Russian lab, judging by the signs in the backround. Something caght Duncan's eye as he stared at one of the men in the picture.

It was Jarvik.

Duncan filpped the picture over and saw a list of people, all Russian, on the back. Red X's next to 9 of the names. The rest of the folder contained information on the 10 scientists, black lines blocking information on each of them. Duncan scanned the file and placed it in his jacket. He then ran off, his mind playing back the events of what had happended.


(Present)


Duncan stared out his car, his mind remembering what transpired that day. Over the last 2 months, Duncan had searched for information on the 10 men, and found a whole lot of nothing on them. All that he knew was that Demetri was the only one living at the moment.

Soon, Demetri stepped out of his building and began walking along the sidewalk. Duncan stared at the man and watched him enter a local bar. Duncan placed the file in his jacket and exited his car, following him into the bar.

Soon, it would all turn into a nightmare, one which Duncan could not awaken from.



(OOC: I think I have carpotunnel after this post,:sweat: )

 

[Abare Black]

:: Jacklyn Thorne ::

A man in his mid-fifties stood gazing out the large picture window of his high-rise office. His own reflection, cold and hard, stared back at him in the glass. The wrinkled face he surveyed looked like that of a stranger to him. Though he saw it every morning in the mirror, there was still some part of him who didn't recognize it.

In the man's hand was a solid black phone; its cord reaching behind him to its base atop a cluttered desk. Light blue veins were visible in his hand, protruding through his aging skin due to the force of his grip. Any tighter and he'd have likely snapped the receiver in half.

"What do you mean you couldn't track it?", he barked into the phone. The voice emerging from his mouth seemed equally as cold as that face in the window. "I pay you for one reason and one reason only.", he went on. "If I wanted piss poor excuses from you, I would fax you some to memorize. When I give you an order, I expect it carried out. What I don't expect is you calling my office with your latest sob story, begging me for a second chance like some child facing a time-out."

As he continued to belittle the person on the other end of the line, the man noted a sound somewhere in the distance. A creaking. Glancing up again, he found it to be the sound of door hinges. In the reflection of the spotless glass, he caught sight of his office door opening gradually. Though the visitor was little more than a silhouette at first glance, the elderly man knew what the interruption meant. The time had come to put his call to rest.

"The next time I give you an assignment, I want it carried out. If you can't manage that, you will soon find yourself in the unemployment line."

With that, the man took the phone from his ear and turned swiftly. Not so much as a glance was given to his visitor as he slammed the black phone back down onto the desk. The collision of plastic against shining cherry finished wood sent a crash through the room like a gunshot amidst a silent night. It wasn't until he heard the sound of footsteps growing closer that the man opted to look up. He hadn't imagined much in terms of his mystery guest. Perhaps it was his mousy secretary confirming a lunch order. Or maybe the pimple faced kid he paid to pick up his mail. What he beheld through a pair of perplexed brown eyes, however, was neither. The sight before him caused the man's jaw to drop.

The footsteps growing nearer to him weren't those of some nameless employee, but instead of a woman. A stranger. One look into her icy blue eyes caused beads of sweat to form on the old man's brow. As the seconds ticked by on his solid gold watch, he became certain she didn't work there. Had he ever laid eyes on her, he would've remembered. The woman stood before him with flowing blonde hair that shown brightly in the florescent lights from above. Her body was thin and well toned. Just below her right shoulder, the man noted a tattoo across perfectly tanned skin. It depicted a snake coiling its way around a heart of solid black. The longer he stared at her, mouth a gape, the more entranced he became. Her figure seemed so perfect through his relentless gaze. She didn't even look human to him, more like some goddess sent down from the peak of Mount Olympus. Covering her flawless form was a pair of faded blue jeans, ripped at both knees, and a low cut T-shirt as red as freshly drawn blood.

The woman before him was Jacklyn Thorne. Though she would've appeared to be the embodiment of any man's fantasy, one look at her face would cause hesitation. Her unglossed lips formed no smile. Her eyes appeared as dead and cold as a corpse, hardly blinking since she'd walked through that door. Her skin was aged slightly beyond her years. This was likely the product of stress and one too many late nights.

Topping off the picture before him was a cloud of smoke left lingering in the air around her. It rose gradually from the glowing end of a cigarette, whose life had reached its end. With her tattooed arm, Jack brought the tip to her mouth for one final draw, eventually blowing the smoke carelessly in the man's direction. Following this, she dropped the remains to the floor below. With the toe of a slightly warn shoe, Jack smashed the cigarette into the newly laid carpet of the man's upscale office.

"Hey!", he began, but his words soon fell away. One look at her emotionally baron face and he knew those words were no more than wasted breath. Jack hadn't spoken a syllable and yet he knew just by the look in those eyes that he didn't matter to her. He could've yelled until his throat burned and nothing would've gotten through.

"You Sanders?", Jack asked. Her voice came just as empty as the face that looked back at him.

"Yes.", he replied with obvious irritation in his tone. "Who.... who are you?"

"That's not important."

Taking a few further steps toward him, Jack gazed down onto the desk. All across it she noted business style forms and post-it notes. Most of which she didn't understand or even care to. As her sights shifted slowly over the cluttered mess, she finally stopped. Her eyes had focused on a folded up newspaper laying on the desk's edge. Meanwhile the man just looked on at her, far too confused to speak.

With one hand, Jack snatched the paper up from its resting place. Unfolding it, she pointed to a black and white photo that covered its front page. Seen across the page in fresh ink was a display of pure carnage. Smoke filled a nearby city street. Bits of glass lay over the pavement, glistening in the camera's flash. And finishing up the disturbing picture was a solid metal lamp post bent in half like a paper clip.

"You want them?", Jack asked as she tossed the paper back onto the desk.

"Them?", Sanders replied, attempting to sound puzzled.

"Don't play dumb with me. You know what I mean. You want them caught, those things that did this."

Though it hadn't been confirmed by the media just who or what had caused the damage, Jack didn't need their word. She spoke without a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

"They aren't human. Any fool can see that.", she went on. "No human could've done that much damage without leaving a trace. Look at that post. It was bent in half without a single fingerprint left behind."

"You sound certain.", the man said quietly.

"Aren't you? You've sent your men after them every night this week."

"How did you.....", he began before stopping himself.

Until he heard those words form on the stranger's lips, Sanders believed he was operating under the radar. He told himself every night before he turned in that his actions were known only to himself and those beneath him. He made himself believe that his operations were a guarded secret. Looking back to Jack though, that was obviously not the case. She knew. How exactly, he wasn't sure. And seeing as her words had been kept to a minimum, he was certain she wouldn't tell him.

"Why are you here?", he asked her. If she would tell him nothing else, at least maybe the woman before him would explain that much.

"It looks like we have something in common. You want those things gone.... and I can make that happen."

Sanders shook his head doubtfully at first. He said nothing in the moments that followed. Instead the man tried to study her face, looking for more than she'd given him verbally. Sadly, he got nothing from Jack. Her expression was as blank as an untouched canvas.

"I'm not sure I follow you.", he told her at last.

"That phone call I walked in on.... that was one of your men. They failed and they will keep failing. I won't."

"You're asking me for a job?"

"I'm not looking to be one of your flunkies, if that's what you're thinking. I don't want your money and I don't need it. What I need from you is the technology to fight these things. Its simple. No names, no orders. Just give me the riffle and I'll bring you the buck.", she told him figuratively in a hunting reference.

Sanders' mind was being pulled in a thousand directions in that single moment following her offer. A woman had ventured in off the street and offered to give him victory. Though he doubted her ability to hold up her end of the bargain, he really had nothing to lose. His own men were turning up nothing but worthless excuses. This stranger before him couldn't do any worse. It seemed odd to him, almost unreal. But then, the same could be said of the events leading up to this. That scene depicted so clearly on the front page of the paper looked like something out of a sci-fi film. Nothing about his world seemed real anymore. Why should this woman be any different?

He was very much reluctant, but Sanders eventually shrugged.

"Fine.", he said following a lengthy silence. "You think you can pull this off.... take what you need. Artillery is housed on the basement level of this structure. Tell the guard to radio me for confirmation. But.... can I ask you one question?"

"I'm not promising you an answer, but.... knock yourself out."

"Why would you want this?", he asked leaning over his desk. "You come in here and demand weapons from me. You imply that you're willing to risk your life for this cause, but..... why? Why is this so damn important to you?"

"My motives aren't your concern.", Jack told him, shaking her head. "You can either give me what I need or I will go out there on my own. One way or another, I will drop these little bastards."

Sanders huffed quietly, diverting his eyes. He didn't know why he'd even bothered to ask. She hadn't even told him her name. Why would she have told him anything more? When all was said and done though, it really didn't matter. As long as she delivered, her motives were inconsequential.

"Fair enough.", he told her dryly. "I can give you what you need. But if you fail to deliver on your promise...."

"I won't.", she said coldly, cutting him off.

With that, Jack turned away from the desk. Her long blonde hair whipped back behind her in the motion as she began to make slow steps toward the door. She didn't look back even once as she crossed that soft, plush carpet. Before Sanders knew it, she was gone. Just as quickly as she'd arrived, the mystery woman vanished like some ghost in the night. All that was left of her was a forgotten cigarette butt, ground deep into the fibers of once flawless carpet.

 

[Henshiner]

New York, NY 3:26 PM


Duncan entered the bar, the smell of cheap alcohol and smoke filled his lungs, almost making him gag. The bar was filthy, scum that Duncan would pick-up on a street corner hung around, drowning their problems in booze. In fact, Duncan was pretty sure he had collared a few of these guys himself.

Duncan scoped the bar and spotted Svoltich sitting at the bar, the bartender pouring a shot of whiskey for him. Svoltich drank the shot in 2 seconds and motioned for another one, which the bartender readily poured.

Duncan casually walked toward the bar, dodging cigarette smoke and vomit on the floor. Duncan took the stool next to Svoltich.

"What's yer poison?" asked the burly bartender, his skull tatoos flexing like crazy. Duncan looked around to scope a drink that wouldn't give him an ulcer. He was unsuccessful.

"I'm fine. Thanks." said Duncan. the bartender scoffed then turned to his other customers. Duncan sat at the bar, staring at Svoltich pound whisky shots like candy. Duncan turned to him and handed the bartender a 20. "Give my friend here a round of whisky. My treat."

The bartender took the 20 and left, leaving a perplexed Svoltich staring at a calm looking Duncan. Svoltich placed his drink down and looked at Duncan, his face blank but with a look of annoyment on his face.

'What do you want from this oldman?" said Svoltich. His speech was hard to comprehend with his heavy Russian accent mixed with all the alcohol he was pounding.

"Now, now," said Duncan, waving a calm hand, "What makes you think I want something from you? Can't a guy just be nice to a fellow New Yorker?"

"Maybe in Iowa, but in New York, no. I know you are cop. I also know what you want." Duncan went wide-eyed, his attention fully on the old man. Duncan then regained his composure, relaxing a bit.

"Let's say you do know. What is it exactly that I want?" The bartender walked over carrying the round of drinks, placing them in front of the old man. Svoltich grabbed a drink and held it close to his lips.

"You want know about the killings of my comrades. And who is behind it all and why. I have some answers, but not all." Svoltich took a drink and grabbed the next one.

"Well, I have some time but not all time to listen." Duncan grabbed a bowl of peanuts and slid it over to Svoltich. "Start talking."

 

[Abare Black]

:: Dr. William Kane ::

"But the FDA hasn't even approved that drug yet!", a nurse expressed frantically. "Its still in the testing stages."

Standing before her was a doctor in his mid-twenties. The man wore dark jeans and a black shirt beneath a long white lab coat. The metal of a stethoscope around his neck caught the light from above as he looked on. His face lacked any expression as the young nurse continued to plead her case. Through eyes as blue as the sky, he watched as the panic filled her flushed face.

"If you proceed with this,"she went on, "the hospital could be facing major fines.... or worse. Testing an experimental drug without the patient's consent.... you could lose your license."

"If I don't, he could lose his life", came Kane's retort.

With a sigh, the doctor ran one hand through his spiked highlights and shook his head. Honestly, Will couldn't blame the nurse for her fear. He knew the things she said were true. As did the other nurses who gazed at them from a distance. Two stood behind the high counter of the nurses station, both staring as if they were watching a train wreck. Another, older than the others, stood near the closed doors of an elevator. She clutched tightly to a clipboard, doing her best to over hear their words.

"I get why you're afraid, Thompson. I do.", Will told the young brunette. "The fact of the matter is though, this isn't your call to make. Mr. Johnson is my patient, not yours. I will treat him as I see fit."

"But if you get caught....."

"If I get caught, its my problem. He can sue my ass off if he feels the need. But at least he'll be alive to do it. Now please ready the vile."

"Sir, I'm just not sure....."

A huff from deep within Dr. Kane silenced her. The more that nurse pushed, the more irritated he got. Finally he had listened to all he could. From his perspective, this girl didn't have the knowledge or the authority to voice her opinion to him. She was his subordinate, not his equal.

"Look, I've tried to be accommodating.", he said. It was obvious in his tone of voice that the doctor's well of patience had run dry. "I've listened to you moan for at least ten minutes. I can take no more. Thompson, you have no right to come up to me and offer advice on my patient based on your staggering ten minutes of experience. You may mean well, but you're out of line. Your job here amounts to little more than fetching me bad coffee and calming the children when they're scared. The day you can approach me like an equal is the day Hell freezes over and the devil hands out candy canes. Am I making myself clear?"

"I just...."

"I don't care what you were trying to do."

William leaned over, placing one hand on the nurse's shoulder. By that time, the entire station was watching him like a hawk. Of course this didn't matter in the slightest to Will. In a low tone of voice, almost a whisper, he spoke to the worried girl in front of him.

"The way I see it, you have two options, Nurse Thompson. One: you can get that vial and meet me in ICU. Or two: you can get the hell out of my face. Your choice."

With that, Will released his grip on the girl's shoulder and turned away. He proceeded stiffly toward the elevator, not moving his muscular arms even slightly in his advance. The nurse who had made herself stationary by that elevator like some potted plant suddenly uprooted herself. As quickly as she could, the woman darted out of Dr. Kane's path. Her eyes shifted down to the clipboard in her hand. She pretended to study the paper it held, as if she'd been working the entire time. Will knew this wasn't the case, but didn't care to make an issue of it. Instead he jammed the down button on the wall furiously and waited for those doors to open.

* * *

Moments later, Will pushed violently through the glass doors of the hospital. He took quick steps out onto the concrete as the red glow of ambulance lights in the distance washed over his face.

The woman had infuriated him, even if that wasn't her intention. There was an unspoken rule within the walls of that hospital. It had been in place since nearly the day Will Kane came on staff. That rule was to never question him. Even the chief of staff hardly bothered to voice an opinion around Will. Kane's methods may have broken rules, but more importantly, they saved lives. The chief had no problem looking the other way from time to time if that meant a patient was granted another sunrise. In fact, he had gone up against the board on countless occasions in Will's defense. The chief believed in him as did most of his co-workers.

Every so often though, there was one who didn't know any better. Nurse Thompson was new. She wasn't familiar with Will's success record or his massive ego. Her words were only meant to help him, but instead they set him off. William found himself furious as he paced the top of the steps that over looked the parking lot.

Suddenly he turned, violently kicking a nearby trash can. The force of his shoe dented its metal and sent a clanging noise high into the sky.

"Tough day, doctor?", came a voice from behind him.

Will turned to see a woman in her early sixties advancing toward him. She, like Dr. Kane, wore a long lab coat that blew gently in the wind as she moved. The woman's face showed such wisdom. Her eyes, shining in the ambulance's lights, focused compassionately onto Will. Her mouth opened slightly, but no words had a chance to fall from her tongue.

"Dr. Bard....", Will began. "How do you do this every day? How have you managed to make it through thirty years of this crap?"

"Dedication.... as well as a key to the drug cabinet.", she answered with a sly grin.

"Cute. But seriously..... I try to save lives here and all I get is grief. These piss ant little know-it-alls think...."

"Hold it right there.", she instructed him while raising her right hand. "Somebody questioned you again, didn't they?"

"You know me too well."

Of the hundreds of doctor's on staff there, Bard was the only one Will could honestly say he looked up. She was the only one able to get through to him, the only one able to talk him down, and ultimately.... the only one he respected. The two had grown close after performing a so-called impossible surgery together. When everyone else backed out, either from fear or lack of knowledge, Julia Bard was right there by his side. She gained so much ground with him that day. While Dr. Kane looked down on just about any he passed in the halls, Bard had actually earned his respect.

"You can't let these things get to you.", she told him while watching the man continue to pace. "Personally, I've never seen the need to question your methods. Your record speaks for itself. But you can't expect to go unchallenged every day of your life. That just isn't reality."

"But Thompson doesn't know what we know. She serves a few years in medical school and thinks she's a marvel. She hasn't been down in the trenches. She can't possibly understand what we do here everyday. And she comes in trying to second guess me. How would you react?"

Dr. Bard shifted her head forward, but her eyes never left Will. The breeze began to make its way through her blonde bangs as she offered him a caring smile.

"I'd ignore her.", Bard told him honestly. "Just turn your back and walk away. Its all you can do. Sooner or later she'll gain experience. Life will show her just how difficult our job is and eventually knock her off her high horse. Until then, bite your tongue and forget her."

"That's just it. I don't know how to do that. I was trying to save my patient's life in there and..... the drug I need may not be approved, but I have no doubt it will work. I've studied his chart night after night. I know his case like the back of my hand and this will pull him through. Truthfully..... when she came up to me and started spouting off warnings, I wanted to snap her neck."

"First do no harm.", Julia told him, quoting the oath they'd taken.

"I know, I know, but.... is it so wrong to want to?"

"Will, you've got to learn to let go. If she's afraid, you can't blame her. Not everyone is comfortable taking the risks you do. She was just trying to look out for you in there."

"I get that, but if she can't take the heat, she needs to get out of the kitchen."

Julia shook her head, but didn't respond. Having known Will so long, she was well aware there was nothing she could've said to break him of this. He possessed intelligence far beyond his years, but he couldn't take others challenging that. It was just a part of who he was. Will Kane was brilliant from Julia's perspective, but he was also a loose cannon. Life would've been far easier if he learned how to take things in stride, but some goals are simply unattainable. This, for Will, could've been one of those.

"Try not to let it fester. Okay?", Julia said at last.

"Yes, Mom.", Will replied jokingly.

Dr. Bard began to turn away, but before she headed back toward the double doors of the towering structure, she looked back over her shoulder.

"Hurry up, boy. You can't leave me alone with these clowns for too long.", she concluded with a wave.

Julia may not have been able to break Will of his superiority complex, but at the very least she had brought a smile to his face. That was more than anyone else could've done.

Will didn't move again until he heard the doors slam shut. Dr. Bard had returned to her rounds, leaving him free to roam. There was a part of him that still wanted to rush back in there and finish things with Nurse Thompson. Of course he'd have never truly harmed her. It wasn't in his nature to hurt another living being. But there was nothing stopping him from screaming at her. He wanted so badly to race in there and make a fool of her in front of the entire floor. And yet.... he didn't. Instead Will chose to walk off his anger, or at least try to.

Dr. Kane must've walked that same stretch of sidewalk a hundred times before building up the nerve to go back through those doors. By the time he had found it within himself to return, the parking lot was empty. The lights had faded and he was truly alone out there. He didn't actually know how much time had passed, but judging by the throbbing in his feet, he guessed at least twenty minutes.

"Just ignore her.", he said to himself as he stared up at the giant cross on the front of the building. "You're here to save lives, not sink to her level. Just go in there and administer the drug."

He would've gone up those steps too, were it not for something catching his eye. Something in the grass had pulled Will from his thoughts, drawing him back to reality. Moving closer in slowly paced steps, the man knelt down close to the concrete. Amongst the blades of green grass was a tiny cube. It looked only slightly bigger than a dice, but somehow it had caught his attention. William spent nearly every day there. He knew the grounds of that hospital so well, he felt he could've walked them blindfolded. So even the smallest difference in his surroundings was noticeable.

"What the.....", he began in a quiet tone.

Narrowing his eyes slightly, Will extended his hand, preparing to pick up the object.

 

[Henshiner]

(The following is a conversation between Duncan and Svoltich in the bar)


"To find out what you know, I must tell you about the Moscow Blackout of 1967. Not many Americans your age know of this. Not many remember what it is. But all of Moscow know what it was. Every generation is told of this travesty. We tell it because for those who experienced it, it was the sigle most terrifying moment in our lives. Many were killed in riots. Looting was rampent. Families were torn from eachother. Over a trillion dollars was lost in our economy, sending our political stability into a downward spiral. As you can imagine, to have lived through such a thing was a horror in itself."

"That's a real sweet story, pal. But I don't see what that has to do with anything."

"My colleagues and I were the direct cause of it."

"... You've peaked my interest. Continue."

"It was one year before the blackout. I was a young scientist, majoring in bio-chemistry and had a PHD in Medicine. I was living in a small town on the outskirts of Siberia alone, writing an ever failing book. I was getting nowhere. Bills were stacking and I was nearly starving to death, forced to do manual labor to even get by. Somedays, I even contemplated suicide, wondering if this was the life I had worked so had for. I was at my wits end.

Then one day, a man came to my door. This man was a top official in our government. To be specific, he was the top research official with access to our government's highest security secrets. Secrets that have driven more than one person... insane."

"I guess this is the part where you tell me the secrets."

"Bah, you young Americans these days. You know not of patience. Everything has to be fast and quick like McDonalds or email. Let an old man tell his story."

"(sigh) If it'll get your story out... continue."

"Good. This man offered me a deal. I was with either go to him to Moscow and use my knowledge to help him, or I was to stay in my current residence and die cold and alone. The choice was obvious for me. I packed my things and was shipped to an underground bunker, 100 meters under Moscow.

There, I was greeted by my 9 now deceased comrades. Each of us was an unknown scholar, people who excelled at academics, but failed to make a real life for ourselves. In a sence, if one of us were to die, we would not be mourned.

We were in the dark about what our assignment was or why we were even assembled to that place. We were finally told our job one week later. We were to research a mysterious sphere, no bigger than baseball, that had crash landed in artic somewhere. This ball was a perfect circle, even the finest sculpters in the world could not duplicate such a masterpiece. We knew not it's origins nor how it was in such a perfect state. But that was not our goal."

"What was your goal?"

"Our goal was to find out WHAT it was."

"Well... what was it?"

"Even to this day we do not know. All we could find out was that it was indeed of extraterrestrial origins. There was no writing on the sphere and it was impenetrable to our instruments. plus, physical contact was out of the question."

"Radioactive?"

"No. Mutative."

"What?"

"The sphere had an energy radius around it, and had a radiation level of 0. When a living orginizm entered the radius, it's molecular structure was altered into something of... complete horror.

One night, a soldier came into contact with the sphere. He was mutated into a creature of absolute savagery. Many other soldiers tried to take him down. They were eviserrated. Eventually, the creature was captured. But not before he killed almost half of the staff working at that base. He was left alive for study and observation, intended to study him to find some type of clue to the sphere. We were unsuccessful. But we did find the possible name of the strange sphere."

"It had a name?"

"Possibly. We didn't know the specifics of the word. We merely guessed that was what it meant."

"The word?"

"Xanmare."

"Xanmare?"

"Dah. He constantly spoke it while caged. He even spoke it while on a killing spree. We dismissed it as the ramblings of a monster and went back to our work. Then, it happened."

"The cause of the blackout?"

"Correct. On the night of the blackout, we were running some of our normal tests that day. Everything was going according to plan. We might even have had a breakthrough that day. Our machines after months were finally able to pierce the shell, but something unexpected happened. in retrospect, we probably should have seen it coming.

A pulse of energy exploded from the shere and incinerated the base. Everything electrical within a 100 mile radius was neutralized, causing a major blackout. But, the most shocking of them all was what lay in the aftermath of the explosion. Every single person who had been in the base... had survived the eplosion. No one had even a scratch on them. It was like we stumbled upon the giant crator after the explosion. We were baffled. And in the middle of the crator lay the sphere... healing itself."

"It... healed itself?"

"Even stranger than that, when our machines made it through, I think I heard it scream... in pain."

"Wait, so you're telling me that thing was a living being?"

"Not likely, no. All of our tests showed it was as alive as a rock. My guess is that something was inside the sphere all the time. Waiting for someone to let it out."

"But when you opened it, it went nuclear."

"I believe that it knew we would disect it if we caught it. It allowed the soldier to get close enough to touch, but all others were mutated instantly. No, I think it chooses who it lets get close enough to it. It seems we weren't ment to."

"So... what happened afterwards?"

"We were debriefed by higher ups and sworn to secretcy. Since all of our equipment and data was lost in the explosion, there was no point to continue to work with fear that such a disaster may happen again."

"What happened to the sphere?"

"Officials saw it as a threat, possibly even a global threat, and tried to destroy it. But all attempts to do so failed miserably. Soon, they gave up trying to destroy it. So, the placed it in the remains of the bunker and covered it all over in concrete. And do you know what they built over it?"

"What?"

"A hospital! Ha! I never hear something more absurd!"

"Back to the story, Svoltich."

"Okay. So, we were deported to the United States to stop us from being investigated when the UN held a complete inspection of the blast, leaving mother Russia's hands clean of any fowl play. So, we settled down here and went on contemplating our existence."

"So these murders, is it the former Solviet Union trying to cover their tracks?"

"If so, then why not kill us before? No my friend, this time it is someone else pulling the strings."

"So a second party is in play here?"

"Tell me, officer... did you happen to catch the meteor shower 5 months ago?"

"I don't... those meteors... they were-"

"Correct. Where there is one, there are more. When they hit, I and my comrades met secretly to see if our fears were true. When the murders began to pile up around the country, we knew what had come. That sphere had friends. And they were creating mutants of their own for some odd reason."

"Well then who is trying to kill you?"

"Like I say, I have some answers, not all. I suspect one of my comrades sold us out to this shadow group and was killed after selling us out. Who knows? All I know is that what was in Moscow 40 years ago is here now. And someone wants me to not tell people this."

"Well here's another question, why were you so readily able to tell me all this?"

"Because you are young. Maybe you young people can fix what we old people did wrong so long ago. Only god knows. Just be careful."

"Be careful of what?"

"Where ther is one group after the secret, there are more. Some willing to do anything to get the secret. Some willing to kill us all for it."

"What are you going to do now?"

"Drink myself to death before they can kill me. Now that you know my secret, I guess there is no more reason to try and stop them. Use this knowledge to your advantage and try to stay alive."

"Thanks, Svoltich. Take care of yourself."

"It's too late for that comrade."


Duncan stood from the bar and began to walk away. He stopped short of the door and turned back to the bar. Looking back at Svoltich guzzle whisky left him with an unsettling feeling. Duncan dismissed the feeling and exited the bar, this new information giving him a mission.

 

[Undrave]

-Oliver Wilson-

Oliver and Sophia were walking down one of the concrete corridor toward the hangar bay where all the S.T.A.G.E. vehicles were being kept. That's when they met up with Fitzpatrick and Mallow.

"Olivia! You guys are the experienced pair coming with us?" Asked the young man.

"No... your partners are already there getting the files from the authorities. We're going over to New-York city so we're taking the same chopper as you two." Explained Fitzpatrick.

"A new case?" Asked Sophia.

"Not sure... it might not be related to the Xanmares but its worth investigating." Answered Mallow, pulling out a photocopy of a newspaper frontpage.

Oliver took the page and looked at it. On it was a gruesome picture, too gruesome for the front page in his opinion, of some massacre in a street. What was amazing was the bent lampost.

"I see I see... it's not an excuse to go meet up with your secret NYPD boyfriend is it?" Said Sophia with a playful wink toward Olivia.

Olivia groaned "Hah hah. All kidding aside it's my experience 'dealing' with the NYPD that actually landed me this mission."

Sophia laughed at Oliver's confused expression "Ollie-girl here got arrested on her last mission to New-York... she didn't really get along with the officer."

Even Mallow couldn't help camouflage his smile. The four finally got to the black helicopter that would take them eastward toward the Empire State. After settling in and taking off Sophia gave a file to Oliver.

"We're going to a small town north of New-York city. Two weeks ago three teenagers, slightly younger than you, two guy and a girl, left on a camping trip for the weekend. They never came back. Research only turned up their discarded backpack not far from their vacated campsite, hinting that whatever happened to them happened at the end of the weekend. Since then a nearby Llama farm has been loosing its cattle to some big predator. It didn't take long for our team to realise these two cases could be related." She summarized.

Oliver looked inside the file to see pictures, police report and newspaper clipping. The police reports were very dry and the newspaper clips looked very sensationalist. There even was one claiming that proofs of Big Foot's involvement had been found. Oliver held up the clip in an inquiring manner.

Sophia chuckled "S.T.A.G.E. investigate alien phenomenon, we can't dismiss anything so readily."

"I see... guess I'll have to get used to reading police report in this line of work." Commented the young man, begining to read the first one.

"Ooh! This reminds me I forgot to give you your badges!" Said the agent, pulling two black leather squares from her vest pocket.

"Badges?"

"Well you're an official agent of S.T.A.G.E. now so you get your own badge." Put in Olivia.

"But why two?"

"S.T.A.G.E. is an highly classified operation, as such only a small number of higher ups are even aware of our existance." Began Mallow " And out of those only a small few even know what we actually DO... pulling our S.T.A.G.E. badge all the time would just attract attention to us."

Oliver opened the second badge, nodding to indicate he sort of understood.

"Wildlife services inspector?!" He read.

It was Sophia's turn to explain "S.T.A.G.E. recruits agents from all sorts of government bodies and forces. I'm from the FBI, Fitzpatrick from the airforce, ol' Mallow here from the secret services. We got people from the CIA, the postal service investigators, all branches of the armed forces, police officers from around the country, private investigators and even some from the Nationnal Transportation Board and the FDA! To help us in our work we arre legally still part of our original bureau or group, and we can still use authority from that job, but without having to obey our old superior. In fact our authority as agents of S.T.A.G.E. can overwrite almost anybody's that doesn't carry orders from the president or the Pentagon, but its bet not to overuse that privilege."

"So to help out I was given another job in government?" Concluded the young boy.

"Our cover for this particular case will be a cross investigation by the FBI and Wildlife service, hoping to prove or disprove the theory than an illegually imported predator is responsible for both the dissapearances and cattle mutilations."

"Welcome aboard, Inspector Wilson." Simply added Fitzpatrick.

Oliver pocketed the two badges and went back to reading the case file.

 

[Henshiner]

New York, NY 7:48 pm



Dunca drove his Cadillac across the wet streets of New York. He had been doing this for several hours now. This was a way to think for him. Whenever a problem had been scratching at his mind, Duncan felt that seeing the sights of New York helped him to think better.

He never knew what it was that made him think clearly by the lights of the city blazing by. Perhaps it was looking at this beautiful city, how it's lights shown like stars that you could simply place your hand out... and you'd hold it in your hand. Whatever the reason, this city helped him through many situations before. But today it's magic had gone dry.

Duncan's mind still couldn't comprehend what the Russisan had told him. Duncan had expected a cover-up of sorts. Perhaps a virus they created or a super soldier gone wild. But this... this was insanity. Aliens? Someone killing scientists? This was too much to handle sober.

Duncan turned the streets of the city, his tires splashing the puddles like little waves. People walked by on the sidewalks, gossiping with friends, keeping in touch with family members out of state, searching for the latest Clive Owen film. All went about their lives unknown to the secret war being held in their own city. They were all in danger.

But Duncan would die first to protect them all. It was his job after all.

Duncan entered the street on the Northern part of the city, a place that was mostly inhabited by retired cops and old folks. A place without a lot of noise to wake adetective after a long day of booking perps.

Duncan parked in front of a brick layed apartment building, black rails lined the outside of the building, giving it a contemptuary early 70's look. What was great about it was that the water and heat actually worked year round, so the chance of moving was unlikely for Duncan. Besides, these geezers were the only people he had even a chance to beat at checkers. Best of all, it was away. Away from the hustle and bustle of the city.

In a sence, paradise.

Duncan exited his Cadillac, his jacket momentarily getting caught on the door handle. After unhooking it, he proceed up the steps of the apartment, giving the occasional wave to an old couple that walked through the narrow hallways. The hallways of the building were lined with white and green striped wallpaper, large brown doors showing up every 20 feet or so.

Finally, Duncan came to his place. Room 027. Duncan pulled out a ring of keys, he kept plenty of things in his room locked in the scenario that he were to be burgled. Grabbing the right key, he entered his room and closed the door behind him. He then paused and took a look at his room.

His place was a small 1-room place with a kitchen with everything broken and a bathroom where the occasional cockroach roamed. Though old people could keep a neighborhood safe, they couldn't take care of an apartment worth jack.

His bed was a rolled out couch with covers spread across it like a complete mess. the pillows were ruffled and bent, a stain apparant on one of them. Salsa, perhaps. The rest was routine. A tv, dishes everywhere, and a blinking light hanging over the small pull-out table.

But, what set this room apart was not the condition it was in, but what covered the south wall.

Newspaper articles scaled it from the top to the bottom, each pinned in with a small tack. As you might guess, each of these articles had something in common with one another. Each one was written around strange occurances that happened within the 5 months the meteor had crashed. Getting a few of these older articles was a battle in themselves.

Murders, missing persons, demolished property, slaughtered animals. All with no living witnesses and no explination as to how these crimes were committed.

But Duncan knew. He knew all to well what was going on. Sometimes, he wished he didn't know about this. That he could just forget all this and go back to being a regular cop. But he knew this would never happen. No matter how much he wished for it.

Duncan removed his coat and threw it onto the table, he didn't really feel like tidying up right now. He walked up to his fridge and pulled out his set of keys, unlocking it and pulling out some leftover chinese noodles. It had more than likely expired but honestly, Duncan could care less.

After finishing the noodles, and flushing them down with a warm drink, Duncan took a look at the wall of crimes as he called it, his face covered with sadness. So many had died, none had been avenged. It was Duncan's job to right wrongs, but he couldn't do anything to give them justice.

How could Duncan do so? To go puplic with this information would be a death sentence by the shadow group. Plus who in their right mind would believe the ramblings of a lone cop? Duncan's chances were slim to none. Duncan finally gave in and fell over onto his bed, the back of his head hitting the pillow like a rock.

Duncan stared up at the ceiling, the fan creating a slicing shadow that streamed across the ceiling. He watched it go around and around, almost hypnotizing him into a lulled daze.

Finally he fell into sleep.




BREEP!BREEP!BREEP!BREEP!



Duncan smashed his fist against the alarmclock, sending it tumbling it to the ground. Duncan opened his eyes, the miniscule amount of light nearly blinding him.

As he opened his eyes, he peered around the room. Everything was in place. Duncan half expected a man to be pointing a gun to his head. He then slumped over in a confused and dreary daze, picking up the alarm he so hastily knocked over. Duncan lifted it from it's resting place and peered at the numbers that flashed across the screen.

7:00 am

"Sonuva..." mumbled Duncan. He tossed the alarm back onto the floor and layed his head back...

...When the phone rang. Duncan opened his eyes wide and shot up from his bed. He turned to the phone and picked it up with lightning speed.

"Detective Westly.' he said, regaining his regular voice. A pause filled the room as Duncan listened intently to the other line. Suddenly, Duncan reached over and grabbed a pen and paper and began to jot down a location.

"Okay... okay. Thanks, Harv. I owe ya one." Duncan hung up the phone and jumped from bed. In a quick pace, he whipped on his jacket and sailed through the door.

This time, he had caught a break.

 

[Rider Strike]

7:30 AM
As Tabusa was getting Taki ready for school, he recived a phone call from a Man named Harvey.

"Detective Ichigo, here are the details of..."

Tabusa then replied,

"Ok, I be there after I take my sister to school"

After dropping Taki off at her school, Tabusa stopped by the starbucks to grab a frappachino. As he drank the frapp, he started to analize the what had occured. He then went back to his motorcycle. As he head to the site of the occurance he saw a old bumb up cadillac that belonged to a fellow detective, Westly. When Tabusa first joined up with NYPD as part time job to his STAGE job, there was a huge commotion over someone of japanese decent joining the team and Westly, as Tabusa could remember, was at the center of it.

 

[Abare Black]

:: Dr. William Kane ::

Down on one knee against the rough, gray concrete, Will extended his hand. With two fingers, he picked up the tiny cube from the grass. He brought it closer to his face, examining it beneath one of the hot spotlights that lined the parking lot. His blue eyes narrowed in a mixture of curiosity and confusion.

The cube he held was quite small and perfectly formed, he noted as he began to turn it over in his hand. Its color appeared a light gray, its texture as smooth as silk. A good minute passed of quiet contemplation, yet Dr. Kane couldn't figure out what the object was. Perhaps a part of a toy some patient had dropped, he thought at first. But that soon made little sense. The cube didn't appear to do anything. No lights, no noises. It certainly didn't seem like any toy he'd seen.

In time Will returned to a standing position. The cube rested in the palm of his steady hand, lit up by the yellow beam over head.

"What the hell is this thing?", he asked aloud.

Most probably would've shrugged it off and walked away. After all, it didn't seem to serve any purpose. Just a random object. Will had always been known for his strong curiosity though. This was what kept him there, staring down at it.

Curiosity had always served as both a gift and a curse for William. Since he was old enough to talk, he'd always felt this urge. He had to know everything about the world around him. How things worked, why they worked, where they came from. It didn't matter how big or how small. Will would insist on figuring it out. At first his parents found this cute, but it quickly wore on their nerves. By the time he hit grade school, little William's favorite word was 'Why'. Any and all statements of fact made by his mother and father were followed up with that awful 'W' word. It was that curiosity that landed him in a world of trouble his fourth grade year. His dad, a wealthy business man, had woken to find quite a disturbing sight. His Apple computer had been reduced to nothing more than circuit boards and pieces of metal. And there amongst the pile was his son grinning from ear to ear. Will had stayed up that entire night taking apart the computer; his way of calming his own curiosity.

That trait had earned him a month's grounding back then. He'd been confined to his room with nothing but the four walls to keep him company. Little did the man realize his morbid curiosity would prove far more costly this time. Staring down at the cube, he had no idea just how much it would change his life.

Who knows how long he would've stood there focusing on it. Will was a grown man then, but his childhood need to understand anything and everything still remained. He could've spent hours dreaming up possibilities, but life didn't give him the chance. A voice from high above him startled Dr. Kane back to reality.

"Hey Will!", came the voice. "I'm going gray up here waiting for you!"

Raising his eyes to the star filled sky, Will saw Dr. Bard sticking her head out of a fourth story window. Her loud voice carried easily down to him, in spite of her considerable height.

"I'll be there in a minute!"

"Please!", she scoffed. "I'm a mother. I invented 'In a minute'."

Will just laughed as he lowered his head back down.

"Don't make me come down there after you!", Julia called, only half joking.

Will knew he had a job to do. The cube.... whatever it was, would have to wait. As he made his way back up the concrete steps, he stuck the mystery object into the pocket of his white lab coat. The doctor would've liked nothing more than to continue his many theories, but alas, he had to finish his shift.

* * *

Hours had passed since Will came across that mysterious object in the grass. The moon had faded from the sky, being replaced by a slowly rising orange sun. He could see its faint light shining through windows that lined a long, narrow hallway. Making rapid steps across the rock hard floor, Dr. Kane began to read over a patient's chart, held tightly by a metal clipboard.

Yes, most of his night had been uneventful. Kane had made his rounds, saved what lives he could, and sucked down enough coffee to sink a ship. Nothing out of the ordinary for his late nights there. The man had managed to force the strange object out of his mind. He was of course still aware of it waiting for him in the pocket of his coat. But to focus on it would've been to neglect his work, something he could never do. Things had gone back to normal in those hours passed.

It wasn't until he reached the swinging double doors at the end of the hall that Will's dull shift took a turn. Suddenly he noticed the tiny font spread across the page start to blur. The many numbers, letters, and abbreviations didn't hold the same clarity they once had. The man's steps gradually came to a stop as he attempted to regain focus. Squinting his blue eyes, Will struggled to make out a woman's blood pressure reading. The numbers were lost to him though.

He lowered the clipboard and rubbed his eyes with one hand. To his surprise, it wasn't just the chart. Looking around, the doctor saw that the entire hallway was different. The sun's light shining through the windows looked like something through a colidiscope. The blue and white checkered pattern on the floor below seemed to twist and turn. His surroundings looked like something seen in a fun house mirror; a far cry from what he'd known every night before. Will had walked that same hall for three years straight, but never had he witnessed it quite like this.

At first he rationalized it. Perhaps his eyes were just playing tricks on him. After a night as long as that one, it would be natural to lose focus, he thought. He'd read one too many charts, stared at one too many x-rays. Logical explanations flowed into his brain like rushing waves onto a beach, yet none of those thoughts restored his vision to its once perfect state. No matter what he tried, his world still appeared distorted.

"Damnit.", he muttered under his breath. "I don't have time for this."

William forced himself to move further, passing through the double doors. Three steps were all he managed though before nearly losing his sense of balance. The man grabbed tightly to the light blue wall. His grip on its rough textured wallpaper was the only thing keeping him up right. With a sigh, he ran his free hand through his short, spiked hair. Desperately, he tried to shake these feelings away.

What was this, he wondered to himself? He was in perfect health. That much Will knew. So why all of a sudden did the world around him change? Nothing was as it should've been. Everything that met his weary blue eyes seemed completely wrong.

"I can't do this now.", he continued in the same low voice as before.

Will gave all he had to regaining his focus, but it simply wouldn't come. It felt as if the more he tried, the further away he got. Minutes passed him by and still there he stood, clinging to wall in a desperate attempt to stay standing. One step, he knew, would send him crashing to the cold, hard floor.

Up ahead, he noticed a blurry figure moving toward him. Dr. Kane could make out no facial features, only colors. The white of a lab coat was made obvious to him as well as a light yellow, likely blonde hair. Straining, he tried to identify the approaching co-worker, but all was lost. It wasn't until a voice met his ears that he was able to put a name to the assortment of colors growing closer to him.

"We've got a gunshot victim heading to ER. Bullet wound to the chest, bleeding out.", the voice called sternly, growing louder with each word.

"Julia?", Will asked, rather faintly. "Is that you?"

"I've assigned a resident to stop the bleeding, but he needs you to remove the bullet and check for any internal trauma. Given the point of entry, damage to internal organs is likely."

"Julia, I.....", the man started before hearing the words die away.

Dr. Bard stood right in front of him, so close he could smell her perfume lingering in the air. But still he could make out no detail. He guessed she was staring at him, her face filling with irritation, but try as he might, Will couldn't see it. Even from that close proximity, Julia appeared nothing but a blur of bright color to him.

"What the hell's wrong with you?", he heard her ask. She'd likely taken note of the lost, confused look on his face. "Lets go. Seconds count."

Will tried to take a step forward, but felt himself beginning to lose balance. Quickly, his right hand latched onto the frame of an open door, keeping himself standing. His grip was so tight, his hand throbbed. This was what it took to keep him up right in that moment.

"I can't do it.", he said matter-of-factly.

"Excuse me?"

"Can you cover the rest of my shift? I've only got two more hours left on the clock."

Dr. Kane couldn't see her expression, but he could imagine. The two knew each other well. Ever since that surgery they'd shared so long ago, they'd become friends. They worked the same floor, consulted on each other's cases, and often times had lunch together on the steps leading up to the main entrance. Will tried to hide his strange behavior, but he knew that was wasted effort. Julia knew this wasn't him. To ask for help, to leave before the end of a shift, to back away from a life threatening surgery.... none of these things were in Will's nature.

"Are you feeling okay?", she asked him. The cold, stern tone in her voice had since faded.

"I'm fine. I just need you to do this for me.", Will answered simply.

"No you're not. You've never asked me to cover for you in the three years you've been here. You've never asked me for anything, in fact. You're not fine."

"Don't push this. Can you do it or not?", he snapped.

"I can.", Julia answered with an unseen nod. "But I need something from you as well."

"I'm not doing bed pan duty if that's where you're going with this."

"No, smart ass.", she replied. "I need you to tell me what's going on."

Bard grew silent a moment as she studied her long-time friend. She could see a distance in Will's eyes, as if he was lost somewhere within his own head. His expression was blank beneath the hot florescent lights of that hallway. His eyes didn't blink. They appeared to lack any focus, she noted. It was as if he didn't see her at all. Gazing down, she saw that his knees were ready to give way. The veins pulsing in his hand indicated the force he put into his grip on the door's frame. Will was literally holding himself up with that one hand. His posture was different, his attitude seemed less 'in your face' than usual, though he tried to cover. Looking at him then, he seemed like a completely different person than the one she'd come to know.

"I know you don't want me digging into your personal life.", Bard told him following her silence. "But look at this from my perspective. In the all the time I've known you, you've never left early. Most days I have to practically push you out of here on a gurney just to get you to go home. You live for this hospital, William. Its all you have. I can't count the number of times you've told me that. Now all of a sudden, you've asking me to cover the end of your shift. Can you see why I'm concerned? This isn't like you at all."

"I don't have time for you to analyze me, Julia."

"I'm worried about you. You may be a terd 3/4ths of the time, but lord help me..... you're my friend. If something's wrong, you can come to me. I care about you. I'm probably the only person in this building who does. Just tell me what's going on."

"I don't know!", Will snapped in a harsh growl of a voice.

He hadn't meant to come on so strong, but she kept pushing.

"I don't know what this is.", he said, having returned to his normal tone. "I'm sorry, but I can't give you answers I don't have. I just need you to do this one thing for me."

"Will.....", she began, only to be cut off.

"I hate asking people for favors. You know that. I would sooner eat glass, but at this point.... I don't have a damn choice. I just.... I can't do this right now."

With that, Will released his grip on the door frame and began to walk away. His steps were slow across the floor and notably unsteady. He would've looked intoxicated to those who hadn't seen the look in his eyes. Little by little he made his way back through those double doors, but not before the all too familiar voice called to him one last time.

"If you need me, call." Julia said as he began to disappear through the doors. "I'm here for you."

Julia hated watching him that way, but she knew the situation was out of her hands. She couldn't force him to confide in her. She couldn't put her arm around him and expect him to open up the way her now grown children once did. This was a battle he would have to fight on his own. If he refused to let her in, to let her take his hand, all she could do was pray.