The Inquisitor

Claire hated this place.

The music that would make her ears bleed if it were any louder, the people content to degrade and wallow in their own filth and sin, it all was so…

Depraved.

But, she was here for a greater purposes. Even if she could smell the transgression on the air. This place was owned by monsters, it was an open secret. But even that was not why she was here today. The reason she was, the reason for her tolerance, for her poker face as she stared dead ahead at the wall. She couldn’t hear the conversation going on beneath the private room of reinforced glass, but she knew what was being discussed.

She had spent at least the past six months undercover, going through the nonsensical training that she could have easily gotten a fabricated certificate for. She knew the value though, in having people that had seen her. Known her. And if necessary, corroborate her. In the end, though, all of this had been mostly futile. The current job she had was desperate for an applicant. They screened her, but none too closely, and soon enough, she was one of four bodyguards that belonged to Senator Steven Garrison. One of those four, George Willis, was going to die tonight. And considering how close she was to him, a few feet to his left, watching the other side of the door, someone less trained would certainly betray something.

It was nothing personal, of course. She was sure he was a perfectly fine person. He was no monster. But, when it came down to it, she could not trust him to not muster everything he had to kill her when she would kill his boss. If Horace, the other of the four here tonight, waiting in the car, she may have considered maiming him, but George was bigger, and stronger, and no doubt with more will then the man who had hit on her within minutes, a futile gesture. But he had drawn the short straw after she had volunteered to go inside so ‘they wouldn’t fight’ so here he was awaiting his death.

A shame.

The meeting inside, if she were not here, would have the capacity to change the world. A man with presidential ambitions that he pathetically tried to hide in front of her, getting a hold of an artifact with the power to sink the current president, and catapult his own influence. He could easily turn this around into a presidential victory. Unfortunately, he was most definitely also going to die tonight, along with his insufferable aide, Oliver Elliot. That last one would be a personal indulgence that she would write off as necessity.

Since she was here, there would be no changing of the world, and humanity would continue on it’s course. A fitting and just outcome that she was confident in bringing about. Then, she could return to her hopefully less time consuming tasks, until the goal of her and all like her was done.

All things as they should be.

She reached into a pocket and felt the engraved silver token against her leg. Good, it hadn’t fallen out in the morass of humanity. She’d known it wouldn’t, it never did, it carried too much weight, but that small influx of paranoia demanded she’d check.

Inside the sealed room, there had been a hand off. Oliver was holding a metal case, resealed after examining contents that she wasn’t concerned with at the moment, and they’d just handed the two treasonous scientists what she could only hope was a bomb with which to kill them to tie up the evidence, it is what she and hers would have done.

The two groups discussed a little bit more, back and forth, back and forth, indistinct thanks to the incessant thrumming of the music and added strain from the reinforced glass. She would be annoyed but the words these people spoke didn’t really matter if they didn’t live to spread them. After this exchange, she and George would step out of the way of the door as the two scientists would swiftly move past them without a word, and head back towards the pulsing degenerate masses, vanishing into their confines with almost expert precision. If she hadn’t been ordered otherwise, she would have tied up the loose end. Oh well. It wasn’t her problem to deal with. She expected the Senator and his Aide to leave soon after, but they kept talking, and talking, and talking. She bristled slightly, but ultimately, remained still and composed. It took them about five minutes to finish discussing whatever it was they discussed when they were alone, before they moved to leave. The two of us fell in behind them. I saw that Oliver was holding the case, which means that my soon killing of him would be even more acceptable then I had thought. I was giving myself until they reached halfway down the hall to make my move, giving me time to fall a step behind George. Unfortunately, everything was ruined when people started screaming somewhere behind me. And it wasn’t in the way that one would expect. The two people ahead stopped, as the sound began to intensify, and I realized that they would swiftly turn around, as would George. I had to act now.

I reached not for the government issued regulation sidearm, but instead the high caliber revolver in my waistband that I’d hidden under the holster of the regulation weapon, and turned it on George. He had turned around, which meant he saw it a microsecond before I pulled the trigger, which was the most unpleasant it could have gone. His face became a crater of blood and bone, as he stumbled back into the wall, body not realizing it was dead. I then turned my gun down the hall, and squeezed the trigger again. I had been sloppy, however, at the sight of purple flame in my peripheral, and only managed to clip Oliver. I was prepared to shoot again, but that’s when I was attacked. Or, I presumed I would be. Someone was closing fast at my back, so I spun, and fired a forty caliber bullet towards the approaching figure. With speed and precision that could only be described as inhuman, he pulled to the side, and allowed the bullet to go flying past, into the purple flamed fray that was now the club floor.

Cast in the uneven lighting of this den of vice, I could tell he was a lithe, tan man, with eyes beady and nearly black. He had a mop of black hair, and one of those tactless battle jackets on. His sword was at least impressive, forged of a faintly green metal, and obviously magical in nature. He didn’t deserve such a thing. At least he knew how to use it.

He ran at me with speed that wasn’t appropriate for his size and build.

“Give me the gun or I’ll feed you your fingers!”

He shouted at me. I felt something…unholy in the air, as he spoke those words. A compulsion passed over me, and I ignored it, in favor of turning the gun onto my aggressor once again.

I pulled the trigger again, firing towards his upper chest. This time, he pulled his blade towards his chest, in another act of superhuman agility, and blocked the bullet off of the side. Undamaged. Who did this idiot think he was?

I pulled the trigger again. Only to hear a loud and obnoxious click.

I had definitely loaded the gun fu-

I reached for the government issue sidearm too slow as he sprung off the wall, and slammed me in the head with the pommel of his sword. I slammed to the ground, feeling the spinning of the world, and the instant endless throbbing of the wound I’d just been dealt. I dropped the revolver, and kept a grip on the other gun, barely. I was dimly aware of the man over me, reaching down, and picking up the revolver. MY revolver.

“Don’t have time to feed you your fingers, doll, so we’ll call it even-“

He said in an insufferably smug voice, before turning to run away, his last mistake.

I reached into my belt, despite my groggy vision, my entire senses spinning. I pulled a concealed throwing blade from a sheath tucked against my back, the glean of holy silver shining briefly in the uneven fiery light. I hurled it down the hall, and it slammed close to the spine of the fleeing man. He briefly stumbled, but he didn’t stop. That would have killed him were he any number of supernaturals. It narrowed things down.

But that didn’t help in the moment.

He looked back at me for a moment, and looked at something over me.

“Yeah. Have fun with that.” He said in his same insufferable voice, entwined with pain that I couldn’t help but feel proud of. I wasn’t sure what he was talking about, until I turned around, and saw the shadow. A giant creature, shaped like a wolf, with slightly scorched silver fur, and one damaged eye. I had supposed this was what had those people screaming. It was prowling towards me, and in my slightly dizzied vision, I couldn’t quite see what it was poised to do. So I acted first.

I pulled the gun fully in front of me, and squeezed the trigger four times in rapid succession, and kicked to my feet, shaking the stars free as I began to back up. The wolf, meanwhile, took said bullets without much hindrance, and began to charge. It was fast. I withdrew another weapon, a collapsible baton, and cracked it across the face as it tried to close, knocking out a pair of teeth, as it lunged. I remembered my training, and slid under the creature’s body, turned and fired off another four bullets into it’s underbelly, as it slid around, righting itself. The force of it’s body going off balance had knocked several large holes in the walls. It sprang forward, faster then a creature of that mass should. and I only got off one more shot before it tackled me to the ground, it’s fangs inches from my face, claws digging into my front. I wedged the baton into it’s mouth, and it began to bear down on me. My gun arm was pinned by claws, but I slowly was angling it to shoot out the back legs.

That’s when I heard it, the sound of boots clinking. The wolf’s efforts slowed, as if it too were heeding the noise. I heard a gruff voice say-

“Alice, stay.”

The wolf fully stopped, but kept me pinned. I peered upwards, the stars and shakiness having left my vision. I saw her shadow, more then I saw her. She was a tall, stocky woman, with muscle to boot. She wore a broad brimmed cowboy hat, with long unkempt brown hair, and skin caked in a layer of dirt. She wore the boots and vest of a cowboy to match the hat, and I saw the faint shadow of a…tail…behind her. Another freak.

“You’ve got fight.” She say, matter of faculty. “Tell me where the Senator went off to, and I’ll have Alice here get off ya.”

I spat upwards, managing to get it on her boot.

“Monster.” I said, with determination.

She stared down at me for a moment, her strange eyes narrowing ever slightly at me. And then, she threw her head back into a laugh.

“Alice, off. We’ve got a hunt to get to.”

I felt the wolf get off me. I reached for the gun, intent on shooting this strange monster in the back of the head, as she stepped over me. Instead, her tail-which I realized was that of a rattlesnake, making noise as she moved, and sent it flying out of my hand, clattering into the wall.

“Later, Inquisitor.”

She said, in a tone that I could only take as mocking, giving a half wave over her shoulder as she moved for the same door the Aide, and the Monster had gone through. Meanwhile, I had been defeated, laying on the floor, with the sum of my wounds. A failure that I would have to remedy.

I would not disgrace the Wheel again.

————————————————————————————

I pressed my back against the phone booth’s glass, as I coiled the cord around my fingers, pressed the receiver to my ear via leaning my head against my shoulder, and scrawled chicken scratch notes in my receipt book as I transcribed the conversation.

“Sounds like a rough customer.” Said the operator on the other end of the line. “We’ll make sure he gets reported to corporate, and we’ll get back to you soon. You got the rest of the message?”

She finished inscribing. That was the signal that henceforth, nothing was encoded.

“I’m going to keep working there for at least a little while. Is that ok with you?” I asked the person at the other end, already knowing the answer.

“I’d really like it if you would. The extra money is a real help. We wouldn’t want you to end up on the streets.”

I nodded to myself.

“I will. I’ll send you the check for you and the kids soon.”

“Thank you, Amanda.”

I hung up. And released a long sigh. Withdrawing from my pocket the silver token. It symbolized my membership in the Wheel, but more then that, it served as a reference for the coded message my superior officers had sent me over the phone. I placed it onto the page, pulled up my pen, and began to scratch away at the notes and transcriptions that I had taken away from the call. I had been trained to transcribe accurately and fully. This was a world full of monsters, and men who are worse, so code was a necessity, as was whole and complete communication.

Anyone who traced the call, with technology, magic, or listening in, would have heard me talking about my job at a Travel Agency with a District Lead. Our codes, isolated and always changing, wouldn’t be decoded until any operation had been completed. And we would succeed or fail on our own terms.

As I set to work, I used my other hand to slide some coins into the pay phone, and place a call home.

Audre picked up, even though it was the middle of night. I was glad for it. I could use the company.

“…Hello?” She asked, the exhaustion in her voice more then plain.

“It’s me.” I said, a little distracted, as I began my translation…spinning the token around as I went, pulling apart words into chunks and reforming them. “I’ll be coming home soon.”

“Claire-oh! That’s incredible. It’s been lonely down here ever since you took the job. Just me and the dog, staring at the door.” She laughed, with some bit of pain hiding beneath.

“I’m sorry.” I said, my own words feeling hollow. “But I won’t have to do much after this. I promise.” I had no idea if that was true.

“You apologize too much, Claire. You’re giving me good news, here!” Her voice was scolding, but it felt reassuring, to me. I had turned over the first page of decoded notes.

“Are you reading a book?” She asked.

“Hm? Yes. Ronald Reagan’s memoir” I conjured a book I’d never seen in my life to my lips. I wasn’t the type to read about presidential hopeful’s failed dreams.

“Gross, hun” She said, halfway jabbing.

“On loan from a coworker. Going to rip him a new asshole when I’m done.” I took on a bit of her crudeness

“That’s better.” She said with a chuckle. “Only you could read and talk on the phone. I’m sure the pay phone has a whole line behind you that you’ve just tuned out.”

“Not much business at two in the morning.” I muttered, as I turned the page, having translated the second in basically half the time.

“Fair enough. Well, me and Winifred miss you. I’d put her on the phone, but she’s sleeping adorably off by the balcony, so I’ll just let you know how much she loves you.”

She kissed the receiver. It made me smile, in an absentminded kind of way.

“I’ll see you in a couple days. Promise. You’re holding up alright?” I asked, to make sure.

“Hm? Oh, yes! The library has been very quiet. All bills are paid, thanks to the real breadwinner of the family, and I await your return home with eagerness-” A bit of over dramatic flair to it all. I would have smiled wider, but I had finished the third page, and was moved onto the fourth and final, my writing hand starting to cramp. But I was determined to power through.

“Mhm. Well, I’m eager to get there. We’ll go on a hike, and clean the spare room.” I was again, being a bit absentminded.

“Only you could make the idea of cleaning that cesspool sound fun. Alright, well, I’m going to head back to bed before you pay any more for this call. Night hun! I love you.”

“I love you too”

I hung up, just as I finished the last page, and the silence had rung through the booth. The message I’d been left from the higher ups read as follows:

“Your failure is unfortunate, but not unexpected. Luckily, with the target still on the move, there’s still time to secure the artifact. Prophet says Senator Garrison is dead, and another has it. We will send information about the others encountered in your mission to the pay phone on Fleet Street in an hour. For now, resupply on O’Donnell, and be prepared to bring us the artifact by sunrise.”

I sucked in a breath, the shame I felt about my earlier failure burning hot within my being. If it hadn’t been for the monsters own infighting, or other agendas at play, the mission would have been a failure, and an artifact that I was told could bring about the end of the world would be in the hands of someone far worse. I had a chance to make good on my training, and to do right by humanity, I had better make it count.

Plus, I would hope to return to my wife sooner or later.

I shoved down any guilt I had, because I had a job to do. I pulled out a lighter, as I slipped out of the booth, ignited my transcriptions, and dropped them to the sidewalk, as I walked towards my redemption.

————————————————————————————

The Wheel safe house on O’Donnell street was an inconspicuous office space, leased as a cell center. Some days, it was a bustling with various operatives exchanging information and equipment, sharing codes, the like. Humans working together, for common goals, aims, and good.

Right now, it was the dead of night, and most major operations were in New York these days. Or in Detroit, trying to be the next Augustine Curstrom. So the building was dead quiet, and the lights were out. Enough illumination from the streetlights and passing cars that I didn’t bother turning them on. My eyes were good in the dark.

I didn’t waste time heading for the back, where the armory was. I pressed my token into the slot, and spelled out “Prophet” in this weeks code, causing the door to open. The storage room was organized and neat, courtesy of a custodian who was no doubt a retired agent. Racks of firearms, crossbows, blades, and all sorts of tools of the trade, on display and ready for the taking. At first, I just focused on replenishing what I had lost, grabbing double the amount of silver throwing blades I had before. I considered a new revolver, but the previous one hadn’t served me very well. So I grabbed a crossbow, and a different type of pistol, that fired a type of hollow point. Some incendiary bolts, some blunt bolts. A grappling hook, some rope…

My eyes settled on an item I hadn’t seen before. A long curved blade, made from a wicked black steel. It looked like the sort of thing a cult leader would sacrifice a lamb on an altar with. I hesitated, then grabbed it.

Pretty much all of this was on loan, and would end up in another armory in some other city, somewhere. In return from what I took here I left “Amanda Stevens”‘s ID card, the government issue weapon, and a few other small items I’d collected in my previous cover. Hopefully another operative would get use out of them. I took the chance to change out of the tattered suit they’d had me in, and switch out my basic bulletproof vest for something fancier-chain mail that fit under my replacement shirt. Normally, kevlar would be just better, but we were taught early into our training that monsters feared chain mail and torches more then they feared kevlar and guns.

So, I would be feared, I resolved. The rest of the time in the safe house, I spent patching my wounds. The wolf had dug into me, and my head still throbbed. I took a bit of a stimulant, and bandaged everything up with ointment, and felt much better. I checked to make sure I locked everything up behind me, then left the safe house after a crisp twenty minutes. Efficient. I had a bag with me, that had a large amount of the larger weapons in it, with the rest concealed on my person. With the baseball cap, and oversized jacket with random patches, I looked like another delivery person working the graveyard.

It didn’t take me long to cross over to Fleet Street, with the system of alleyways and interconnected passages I knew of when I first looked at a city map. I arrived ten minutes early to my call, and did a few loops of the street, before I eventually heard the ring. Quickly, I navigated over to it, and picked up the phone, keeping my wits about me as I did.

I proceeded to have a very engaging conversation with a friend of mine from Miami all about how much he wanted to come up and meet my husband and kids. When it was done, I hung up, and felt the first raindrop. I hurried under the awning of a restaurant that closed before I’d even gotten to the Maxx, and began translating the code at a hurried pace. I trusted my rushed work, after a decade of doing this, and produced a new message.

“Prophet has deduced that there is an unholy connection between the artifact, the club known as the Maxx, and your attackers this night. Some of them are in conflict. Currently, one such party involves a Transgressor known as Bandit, who Prophet believes currently holds the artifact, and plans to hand it off for merely profit. You are tasked with intercepting him before it can leave his care, while avoiding other concerned parties. A building has been isolated as a likely meeting ground based on previous agent intelligence, and spikes in the same connections that Prophet has detected. You are to go there and defeat Bandit, along with any other concerned parties. The woman you encountered we suspect to be a form of spiritual witch, but we know little of her exact nature. The Transgressor is on our radar as a mercenary and opportunist, but is a skilled combatant. The key to defeating him is having a plan, any plan. This will undermine much of his magic. Also consider leveraging the loss of your firearm. Do this, and you should be able to defeat him, and reclaim the artifact. Once you do, chart course for the safe house in the Capitol for further instructions. The fate of the world rests in your hands.”

I stared, a little bit. A plan, huh?

I looked at the address that was scrawled next to it’s mention in the code. That wasn’t far. I just had to hurry.

I found the nearest parked car, and withdrew a multitool. Sometimes, the collective humanity had to pay a price for safety.

————————————————————————————

I arrived at the building, a spire of penthouses made for only the wealthiest to enjoy. The doors slid open for me, and there was no one on watch of the front desk or anywhere else, for that matter, which was an encouraging sign. I closed my eyes, as I strode into the lobby, and tried to tune my senses.

A talent that they taught us very early on in the Wheel was that magic and monsters had a smell. It was almost like how you could smell a lightning strike before it unfurled into thunder, or feel the nausea before throwing up. It was a sickening thing, that you couldn’t forget once you learned how to attune to it, but it was indispensable in this line of work. The first time I’d figured it out, and felt it for real, I’d thrown up on my mentor’s shoes.

But I had learned since then. And I certainly felt it here. I sifted through the sensations. This was definitely the long term home of something inhuman, but that signature was diluted, slightly muddied by something else. Someone else. As if they were being suppressed. I tried to sift out more information, but then someone else reached the edge of my senses. A lone figure. A familiar figure. Though lone wasn’t quite right. There was someone else with him. But I couldn’t figure out anything.

Bandit was here.

I swiftly formed my plan. He was here for a mere pickup, so he’d take the most available form of transit, the elevator. I hurried over, and opened it-thankfully, it had already been on the ground floor. I jammed the close button, just as the shape of the man from before began to move towards the door to the building. I then opened the maintenance hatch at the top with my multitool, and flung myself to the top of the elevator. When he entered, I would drop down with my blade first, cut him enough to divert him from my kick to the back. I would then finish him with a shot to the head, take my prize, and slip away.

I ran through this plan as many times as I could muster. I pictured each step in my head, from any small angular change that I could possibly foresee. And I crouched there, ready to execute, until I heard the door to the stairwell shut.

Dammit.

Suddenly, it was all chaos again. Should I follow? No, that door was too loud, and the stairwell might give him the advantage. I could stick to my post, or I could attempt to find a better ambush point in the lobby. Both put me at a disadvantage, one that I probably couldn’t afford if I chose wrong.

I remembered what the Wheel had said, however. Any plan.

I took in a breath, and got settled atop the elevator. I once again tuned my senses, and tried to get a sense of the building. I was going to be waiting either way. I may as well be as appraised as I could be. I felt that suppressing sensation, and I felt Bandit and…his strange shadow, that I couldn’t quite place, slowly wind through the building. He was at about the edge of what I could sense, so occasionally I would lose him and pick him up again around the next corner. which made it even more impossible to discern the other person who followed him. He stopped…at one floor or another. It was hard enough to trace him, much less how that placement correlated to actual space. I furrowed my brow with a bit of strain, and kept trying. He stopped moving somewhere, but then began doing so again, right after I heard an…explosion? A rippling booming sound that couldn’t be anything but. All of the magical traces began to get muddled up again, all starting to fade into one giant arcane soup that did not help nor hinder my attempt at discerning more about the current situation. Eventually, though, something did change. The suppression of the underlying force of the building was undone in an instant, and suddenly, the magic of the building reignited.

Disgusting.

Things trended towards the more simple from there. Three entities upstairs-Bandit, and two others. I realized that one of them had a signature that I felt I had smelled before…I realized that I could place it to the Maxx.

Eventually, one entity left. Then another. Only Bandit left.

I closed my eyes a moment longer, and continued to visualize, and manifest my plan. I knew the words I would speak, the maneuvers I would do, the killing blow I would inflict.

And as if by the providence of god, the elevator began to move. It stopped on the fourth floor, and collected a passenger who sickened my senses.

I let it drop halfway. Let him be in a false sense of security. And then, I struck.

I dropped from the hatch up above. I cut down with my blade, the wicked curved one, slicing down the side of his throat with a spray of blood onto the stainless steel parts of the elevator. I then planted a kick into him with sharp precision, and sent him slamming into the side wit righteous force.

He drew out his blade from nowhere, and stood, thrusting forward with a reckless overexertion of his form.

I hurled a throwing blade at point blank range, the silver embedding itself up to the hilt into his upper chest, sending him tumbling into a different wall.

“Transgressor.” I began, authoritative. “You shall abide the enemies of humanity no longer. You beat me once, and I have taken revenge. I have laid a plan, and brought you down. Your death will make the world a better place, one ruled by law, justice, and humanity.”

Each work spoken with just truth in my soul, as I saw his eyes go a bit glassy. No retort this time.

I plucked his bag off the ground, rummaging through various evil trinkets and curios, until I found it. The briefcase. Undamaged, save for some small stains and marks. Perfect. I leveraged it in one hand, as I tucked away my blade.

“You represent a form of evil, of vice, of sin. One undone by law, one undone by anyone prepared for you. You are Banditry, and you are vile. I will see you destroyed, as a defender of all of humanity.”

I withdrew my firearm, which required me to look away for a moment to find it.

It turned out he had one last bit of fight in him after all. He sprung from the ground, pulling his blade to his hand, and swinging it for my head. But he was a few inches too short. My gun was on level with his throat.

The gunshot roared through the space, and his blood flew from his neck like a fountain.

“You will deliver us unto evil no longer.”

The elevator doors reached the ground floor, and I left my defeated foe behind.

————————————————————————————

There was a phone call waiting for me across the street. Fourth phone on the right meant emergencies. Plus, the coincidence was too great to be just that.

I had a chat with my high school history professor about how the economy was doing, and set to decoding after making some distance from the building. I didn’t trust using the same car as I did to get here, so I opted instead to slip through the alleys, and find an abandoned beer crate and flickering alley lights to translate my newest message.

“Emergency. Do not go to DC. Compromised by the enemy. Artifact being tracked. The operation is being extended. The artifact must be destroyed along with the means to create another. Upstate New York, Albany. Go there, and await further instructions. Do not allow yourself to be followed. Do not access the artifact. Kill any pursuers. Move swiftly.”

A weaker woman’s heart would have sunk, seeing her hopes of going home being dashed. But instead, my heart was filled with resolve. I burned this message, and had already made a plan. The train station in the center of Baltimore could get me a passage to New York itself, and from there, it wouldn’t take much to reach Albany with some diversions. I could switch trains along the way, and deal with anyone I caught following me. The train ran late, thanks to the infrastructure funding under the ROC act, so I could count on being able to get on straight away.

I pulled myself to my feet, and pushed the exhaustion out of my awareness. I had a job to do. I gripped the case just a bit tighter, and set off into the night.

————————————————————————————

I had been followed to the train station. I didn’t have the time to stop and tune my senses, so I pressed on, and kept trying to use the rearview mirrors of cars and similar receptacles to get a glimpse of anyone, but I failed at each turn. But I reached the station without being attacked. I picked up the pace once inside, and reached the terminal. I flashed a fake ID, and paid for my ticket to New York city in cash. I then slipped around the corner, and ran into the train just as the cars door began to close. In the same moment, I heard a yell. I turned, viewing the platform through the windows of the quickly accelerating car, and saw her again. She had the same ridiculous getup on, a cowboy brought to life, and openly swayed her snake tail back and forth. She was asking to get jumped by President Cross’s secret police. It was infuriating, especially since she’d brought a menagerie. The same wolf as before, completely healed from the meager wounds it had before. A giant snake, the size of an anaconda, lurching at uncomfortably fast speed, and a large yellow bird the size of an eagle, but structured like a canary, resting on her shoulder.

All three beasts ran forward alongside her, but she’d arrived moment’s too late. I reached for a weapon all the same, but the train pulled ahead and out of the station, even as the wolf tried to bound onto the backward segment.

I breathed a sigh of relief, craning my head to look out the windows and watching as all of the creatures and their dark mistress faded into the dark and distant platform. I navigated to my seat in a second class car, and regretted not going the whole way so I could have a phone to call my wife again. And tell her the bad news. But in lieu of that, I at least had the luxury of a nearly empty train car to enjoy, and after surveying for any immediate threats, allowed myself to settle into the seat. I took a few measured breathes, and enjoyed the peace and quiet, and the rapidly passing landscape out the window, as Baltimore was left behind within minutes. I hadn’t become another body for bodytown, which I felt was something to celebrate. If I was that type of person anyways. I had to focus on the task at hand, saving the world from monsters. I felt my token in my pocket, and in some ways, it felt heavier then ever.

I found my flitting kind of sleep, the half measure you took when you only had sparse moments to rest, coming quickly to me. And after all I had been through, I let it.

————————————————————————————

The strange and fragmented dream I had was of a strange and distant landscape. It had a green and gold sky, with distant moving mountains, and beneath the earth, an ocean that spanned infinity. I felt lost, adrift in it, but oddly comforted by it, as I swam around in my own subconscious, being pulled towards a center that was full of light. In between, I saw memories that brought me joy and sorrow alike-the day of my wedding, held in Michigan, where it was legal to, five years ago now, surrounded by friends, and some family, and of course, my Audre, smile as bright as anything. I saw the day I joined the Wheel, carrying a system of scars across my back from an encounter with a vicious ghoul. I saw past hunts, old and new. And then, I saw it. Just light, beneath the surface of the strange liquid I was adrift in. There was something there, something tangible, and something horrifying, that coincided with the other sensation that would force me to awaken: A human voice.

“-Ma’am?” The soft voice of a woman said. I looked up, quickly clearing my eyes of exhaustion. Not that much time had passed, it would have seemed. Though I had no way to really know. My hand, hidden in the dark from the person talking to me, was still in a white knuckle grip of the case, the metal shape of it’s handle likely pushed into my wrist by now. I ignored it, and turned towards the voice. A passenger attendant was giving her best smile at me, while pushing a cart.

“I’m sorry for waking you, but this will be one of my last rounds. Do you want anything to eat or drink?”

I paused. The sensation of hunger hadn’t yet set in, and I had a bottle of water in my bag. I shook my head.

“No thank you. I’ll be alright.” I returned her smile as best as I could, but it probably turned out a bit lopsided. I was still groggy.

To her credit, she didn’t even change her face.

“Alrighty! If you change your mind, there’s another stop in about an hour.”

I nodded, and she kept moving with her cart.

I leaned back in my seat, and tried to place the swiftly passing landscape, to no avail. It was dark, and this normally wasn’t my neck of the country. Oh well. Couldn’t be helped. I was about to tune my senses, to make sure nothing strange had boarded the train since I’d nodded off, when I noticed something. The attendant had stopped, abruptly, in the middle of the car. I noticed now, that the car was clear of anyone here, and yet.

I was on guard, and good thing too. She turned around, and her eyes were glowing with purple flame within them.

And she raised up a gun that had not been in her hand before.

I ducked down, the bullet tearing through the cushions of the seat in front of me, and reached into my bag, rummaging quickly.

I tuned my senses. I had to determine something.

It was hard, as four more gunshots rang out, the woman slowly and methodically advancing. But I tuned it out, and focused outwards.

And found the unfortunate truth. Rather then being solely a monster, this woman was still human. A form of possession. The power and magic was the same as the penthouse, what laid beneath the suppression.

And the other unfortunate thing was that a lot more like her were starting to converge. I sucked in a breath. I would persevere. I finally released the case, to shove it into my bag, and withdrew the crossbow, and the blunt bolts I’d brought for it. I had twelve. There were a lot more then twelve.

I put my plan together, just as the woman rounded the corner. I shot her in the head with the blunt bolt, and sent her crumbling. The fire in her eyes dissipated, and so did the gun. Perfect.

I decided to push forward in the train, If I could reach the front, I could only have to deal with assailants from one side, and have my hands on the controls until we reached the next stop. I stood up, and hurried forward, before those behind me could catch up.

First car, two possessed. Both with those same types of guns, adult man, teenage boy. I shot the man first, dead in the forehead, and had to take cover against the boy. Luckily, he decided rounding the corner to get a better shot was a better idea, and I was able to kick him in the chest, then punch him in the throat, out cold. As with the previous woman, the flame went out of their eyes after moments, and their weapons didn’t last.

Second car, only one, an older woman. To avoid breaking any bones, or other serious harm I ducked around her, and her not very good shots, and gently choked her unconscious from behind. Unfortunately, this move allowed the first group of the ones chasing me to catch up. I popped the first one, a young woman, in the forehead, and the second, the big guy, took one to the shoulder, which probably knocked him off balance. The other two, a man and a woman who looked like brother and sister, began to open fire, forcing me to duck into the next car so I could use the doors as cover. I spun around, and shot the next one after quickly reloading, hoping that the eleven year old or so girl would live through the concussion I just gave her. The other occupant of this car sought to ambush me, and managed to graze my arm-the middle aged man had hid below the seat. I clubbed him with the crossbow. I had three bolts left.

One for each of my pursuers. The big guy stayed conscious, the siblings didn’t. I ran towards him, and dropped kicked him into the doors, with a crunch. He stood up, dazed, but I once again used the crossbow as a blunt weapon, once, twice, three times, and he stopped moving. I put away the crossbow and settled for hand to hand combat.

The next car, they were ready for me. They pinned me down long enough that I saw the doors behind me start to open, so I decided it may be time to start doing some unfortunate harm. The first throwing knife found an arm, the second a leg, which bought be the time to advance, and knock them out cold with some calculated martial arts. I retrieved my knives, and wrapped their wounds in torn pillow cases.

The ones behind me were quickly lost as I kept running. The car after, three people who weren’t ready, in fact, they had their backs turned, I slammed one into the thick window, kicked another over a seat, and kneed the third in the crotch, before slamming him to the floor. I bought enough time to get the drop on my remaining pursuers as they came through the door. They were all untrained civilians, as I withdrew the pommels of my knives as potent incapacitating tools.

Eventually, I had dealt with enough, and I heard no more coming. I advanced to the next car.

And I couldn’t believe what I saw.

He stood there as he had before. His battle jacket, in ruins, was being worn more like a cape then a jacket, the blood upon it having been seemingly shaped into symbols, sigils, and runes. His tan skin was covered in his own dried blood, his beady eyes fixated on me with a strange hunger that I hated every ounce of, and his lithe body was poised, with his beautiful sword in his hands. He had a grin fit to eat a stable of shit on his face.

“No need to act too surprised, doll.”

Bandit said, smugly, as he spun his sword idly in his hands.

“I killed you. Not even Murder could have survived that.”

I said, half in disbelief, half in anger.

“What can I say. I’m resilient. Plus, any good Bandit can’t ever really die. Legends, and all that.”

His simplistic way of speaking was going to drive me crazy. I gripped the hilts of both my blades tightly.

“After I cheated death, I put together a crew of motley outlaws, here to steal back what you stole from me, that I stole from somebody else. But, if you want me to keep your fingers a second time, you could just fork it over.”

He gave a threat again. And I felt nothing. No magic. No compulsion. A thin smile came over me.

“Your tricks don’t work on me anymore, do they?” I said, taking one step forward with some confidence.

“No. Not really. But you didn’t plan for me being here. So I say we’re even.” He pulled his blade close defensively.

“I suppose we are.”

The silence hung in the air for a moment. And then we charged at each other.

I hurled one silver blade, already drawing out another. He knocked it aside, but it cost him his reach, as I closed into knife fighting range. I thrusted forward, once, twice, three times, then slashed down with my curved blade. His reflexes were still inhumanly good, even without his preternatural trickery. He blocked again and again, his beautiful sword practically singing with each blow of mine he blocked. He was backing up, one step after another, and clearly, he must have realized that this wasn’t going to be a winning strategy for him. If he got backed up to the wall, he was done for, nothing to supplant his guard.

So he went on the offensive, taking one wide swing. I capitalized, but wasn’t able to do so with my main hand. So I nicked him with my offhand dagger, but he still swung, forcing me to jump backwards. I was poised to throw in the same stroke, hurling a second dagger across the thin space. Once again, he knocked it aside, but I’d already pitched my third out of four, and managed to cut him across the shoulder. I reached for my fourth, and he readied his defense, only for my first deception to come into play. I drew out my gun, and pulled the trigger thrice in quick succession. Three hollow point bullets tore through the air, and he blocked two, with the third piercing his shoulder, tearing through the soft flesh. He realized the advantage this gave me, and charged, as I fired bullets four and five, one parried, one avoided. As he closed, I fired six, and he cut down across my torso. The bullet pierced his midsection, and I spilled more of his blood tonight.

But to his credit, he powered through and finished his slicing blow. Lucky for me, he didn’t realize I was wearing chain mail. He cut through my shirt, and heard the ring of metal against metal. I used this chance to slash forward with my knife, and cut his cheek.

He staggered, and I pressed, slashing once, twice, three times, each time getting around his guard and cutting into him. I went for strike number four, and managed to hook into his shoulder, keeping him from bringing his full blade around. But as it would turn out, I wasn’t the only one with a ready deception. He reached his free hand out and pulled something out from behind his back. I realized too late what he held, as he withdrew his own gun-a weapon that looked suspiciously like a centuries old flintlock pistol. He pulled the trigger with a roar, and I was forced to release, as he punctuated it with a knee to my front.

He’d blown an inch hole in my thigh. I was setting spots, as he seized on his advantage. Either he didn’t feel pain, or he was better then anyone vaguely human at ignoring it. He cut down with his sword, but not at anything vital. I felt white hot pain, brighter and stronger then anything, as my gun, and the hand that held it, struck the floor of the car. He pulled his blade back again, no doubt going for the finishing blow now that my means of snappily putting at an end to him was depleted.

For a moment, I was sure I was done. But, in a sudden surge of adrenaline, I managed to pull my eyes up. I found a flaw in his guard, and lunged with my curved knife, and stabbed him full force in the back after pulling the side ever slightly. His blade sunk into my upper shoulder, and mine carved into his ribs, both of us pulled ever close together, as I wrenched, and he pushed. Pain, blood, and yells of agony escaped us both, but neither of us were willing to give in. My purposes was emblazoned into my soul, not any part of my body, and I still had a mission to accomplish, this I knew.

For a moment, it was a battle of wills, who would muster the strength to force the other away, as we both madly carved up parts of each others body. Eventually, I slammed the stump of my hand into his front, and at the same time kneed his thigh with all my strength, and using my momentum, pulled myself overtop him, slamming into the ground behind him. I pulled myself to my feet and staggered back with all of my strength. He stood there, a moment, bleeding vicious, then fell forward, unmoving. I saw the rising and falling of his chest, however ragged. I took a step forward, determined to make it stick this time.

Then, something crashed through the side of the train. With the howling of wind and the crumbling of metal, a giant shape burst in through the side, and began to coil defensively over the Bandit. My eyes widened, as I realized that I recognized this creature. The large snake I had seen with-

My eyes flicked out the side of the train that had just been broken into. Outside, cast in the light of some distant city, the moon, and the stars, was a swooping, giant yellow bird, and a large, silver wolf, bounding so that they could keep up with the train. Atop it’s back, riding without a saddle, was the same woman as before, cowboy hat still somehow stubbornly affixed to her head. Her eyes, piercing through the gloom, were still affixed on me. I sheathed my curved blade, and withdrew my final dagger, and defiantly hurled it at the serpent’s face as I backed up, and even in my pained, wounded, perhaps even dying state, I landed the blade in it’s giant eye. The creature hissed out violently in pain, it’s thrashing tearing off more chunks of the train, as it threatened to tip and fall off the high speed vehicle. I palmed my curved blade again, and was prepared to move in, when two things happened-firstly, the giant yellow bird swooped in, and sunk it’s talons into some of the snake’s scales, and with impressive strength, managed to right it, the snake’s head curving back inside, angrily. And the wolf pulled close to the train, allowing the woman to jump from it, and through the hole of the train, keeping one hand affixed to her hat.

The rattlesnake tail flicked back and forth, releasing it’s methodical noise, as she now stood between me and the bandit.

“Evenin’ Inquisitor.”

She greeted me in such a mundane way I almost laughed. As another realization struck me in the same, morbidly funny thought.

“Now it all makes sense. You two are like two peas in a pod. I suppose you’re part of his little…band of outlaws?”

This time I did laugh, a hollow, and uncomfortably web sound from my current throat. Meanwhile, the woman before me seemed to shrug.

“Anybody whose anybody has one. Question is, wheres yours, miss?”

She peered towards me, beyond her hats brim.

“None of your concern. I’ll be more then enough to send you and your little gang to the pit!”

I said, with a roar of defiance, brandishing my blade in my remaining hand, as I glowered at her.

She had the gall to laugh at me.

“Damn. I knew you had fight, but this is something else. Look. I really don’t wanna kill you just for gettin’ mixed up in this nonsense. I’m sure you have plenty of actual battles left to fight, and I ain’t feelin’ like stampin’ those out. So how about you give me that case in your bag, and I’ll even fix your wounds up nice and clean. I can knock you upside the head if it’ll help your crew believe you, whoever they are.”

She took one step towards me. Her tail idly swaying, and making that same rattling noise as she did.

The offer brought a rage within me that I didn’t know I had. How DARE this monster try and patronize me, offer me accord, give me a consolation prize when the stakes were this high? She wanted me to sign off on the end of the world, to save my own skin? I would rather die. Even if it meant never seeing Audre again, even if it meant giving up every future battle, I would not die betraying all of humanity to some two bit outlaws!

I laughed again, I couldn’t help it. I felt the blood cough up through my throat, as I turned my fiery gaze towards her.

“Hear me, monster, and hear me well. I don’t know what or who you are, why or how you are here. It doesn’t matter. None of that matters. It also doesn’t matter how powerful you think you are, what delusions of grandeur hide beneath your heart. My name is Claire Vayun. I serve the Wheel, which brings our species forward, and tramples beasts like you into the mud. I have slain beasts high and low, creatures who claimed heights greater then yours. And I will do it all again. I am the guardian who shall send you to hell where you belong!”

I ran forward as I punctuated the last bit, knife brandished. She tensed backwards, clearly ready for the fight of her life. A pair of claws protruded from her hands, bestial and sharp, ready to fight.

I was going to die.

But that was ok.

I didn’t even make it to her. Something else did instead. The tail of the snake, the snake that was still constricting the car of the train itself, slammed through the side again, shattering a window, and at a speed faster then some cars, slammed into my upper torso, and sent me flying. My bag loosened from my back, and went clattering to the ground, as my body went slamming through the door between cars, shattering glass and pushing metal through. I went flying to the other end of the final first class car, and into the other door with a resounding SLAM.

And it broke me. I could barely move. My remaining hand and arm could still twitch, if I tried to move them, But my vision was covered by spots of darkness and light, with little other detail. I saw a cowboy shaped shadow picking something up off the ground, the instrument of the world’s destruction, no doubt, and I saw her begin to approach.

I prepared myself for it. This was always how it was going to end. They instilled that in you from the beginning. Either the war was won, or we would all die fighting it. Such was the nature of the Wheel. It would keep turning, until it no longer needed to.

And yet, the war had been fought since the time of war, and it showed no sign of being won. New nightmares always emerged. New men tried their luck at being god. And everything turned over again. A counterforce to be fought, at all turns. I had known that it would not be won by me, won by my mentor, won by my fellows. And yet, I still felt the silver token in my pocket, and the weight of it was more present then anything else.

The crushing impossibility, struggling for that small bit of hope. It drove the fanaticism that had guided my life until now. Rightful, useful, and…

Futile, as I watched my death approach. I tried to will it to happen before the woman got to me, so that she would find a corpse, and not find any more need to desecrate me, taunt me. She had won. As I knew she would.

My thoughts drifted away as I could not will myself to die. Would Audre ever see my body? Would she ever know of my truest self? The one which I hid under different excuses, different guises?

Probably not.

The war never would have been won. There never would have been any hope of it. No peace, no victory. But there had always been that small part of me that wanted to die in our bed.

The thought made me upset in a way that I didn’t think a dying woman could feel.

She had closed half the distance when something shook me out of the darkness. A noise, loud and sharp, coming near to my left.

A phone was ringing. I thought I was hallucinating in my death throes. But it continued. In my peripheral, my landing had seemingly taken one of the first class car phones to the ground nearby. And it was ringing, harsh and loud, reverberating in my ears.

I don’t know where I mustered the strength. And I don’t know why I used it for what I did, considering where I was, and how I had gotten there, and who was approaching down the car, with a world ending artifact in hand, but I reached for the phone’s receiver, picked it up, and held it close enough to hear.

“Claire Armstrong Vayun?”

I must’ve been hallucinating, but I swore it was Aubre’s voice.

“…I love you.” I croaked into the phone, without thinking.

“You’re dying, aren’t you?” She sounded so patient. So loving.

“I’m sorry” I said, my thoughts full of remorse.

“That’s ok. I’m going to help you. Just hold onto the phone, and close your eyes.” She said, oh so soothingly. I felt something grip my body, something with claws. Another voice was shouting at me, digging into my skin, threatening, I think. But I responded by gripping the phone more tightly. And closing my eyes.

Maybe I was about to die. I saw a faint light flash above my eyes, as I suddenly felt completely weightless, not entirely unlike what I had felt in that dream I had held. on the train, the one lightly caked in my memories. I heard something like a roar, or a drone in my ears. Thousands, millions of voices, conversations, all at once, roiling all around me. I couldn’t move, otherwise I would have thrashed, screamed, at the volume, the shrieking, so loud my ears should burst so I wouldn’t hear it anymore, but no such relief came, as cutting through it all, the sound of such as many phones ringing as there were voices.

Flickering light flashed across my closed eyelids, as I felt like I had left the ground, falling, falling, falling in this sonic agony until finally-

I was embodied again.

And all the pain that came with it rushed into my perception. I didn’t fall unconscious. I had been trained better. I was laying in a doctor’s bed, in a grey monotonous room. The light above was blinding, as my eyes were mercifully doing slightly better. I didn’t feel nearly as broken as I had moments before, but maybe it was the fresh adrenaline my body was pumping.

I managed to turn my head over, in order to see that I wasn’t along. There was a figure standing at my bedside, and it wasn’t my wife. Not that the rational part of my brain, the sliver still fighting for relevance, anyways, had expected her to be.

They were slender, unhealthily so, dark skinned, with golden lines that ran down their skin, foreign metal implants of some sort. They had longer curly hair, striking grey eyes that seemed to soften upon seeing me, and a mouth full of brilliant, blinding, silver teeth when they opened their mouth to smile at me. They wore a doctor’s coat, and in their hands was a cordless phone. They pushed the button to hang up.

“Hello Claire” They said, with a smile, that same silver. Their voice was that of an older man I’d never heard “I’m going to help you get better. They did a number on you, Bandit and the others. You and me both.”

They pulled back their coat. Their shoulders and arms with marked with burns and cut marks, that seemed to be slowly but surely healing before my eyes. I blinked, trying to clear the hallucination, to no avail. I groaned, and laid back.

“I know you, and your organization enough to know you do not want to. But if we work together, we can do something vital, something important, and something we can both agree on.”

The voice changed. An older woman that I also didn’t recognize. They peered down at me, as if expecting me to say something in return. Meanwhile, my vision was spinning, to a degree I’m fairly certain wasn’t normal. But I managed to muster out one croak of a word.

“…What..?”

They placed the cordless phone on a table. And cupped one of my hands in both of theirs.

“We can save the world, dearest Claire.”

They spoke in Aubre’s voice. That shock broke me out of my adrenaline, put some primal part of me at ease, and sent me into darkness, a black, dreamless sleep.

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