by Jan Stryvant
"I'm a tiger now! And I ain't afraid of no lion!"
"Oh, shit," Frank swore as Sean's hand lashed out while he shifted into his hybrid form. Leaning forward, he grabbed the corporal by the neck, then stood up quickly, dragging Lee towards him until they were nose to nose.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," someone said as the other Marines stood up.
"Why not?"
"Because you'll only make him mad. Seriously, are you all stupid or something?"
Sean looked around at the others as the corporal grabbed his arm with both of his hands and tried to pry off his grip.
"Marines, Sit!" Sean growled at the others, putting a little of his lion essence into it.
They all sat, their faces showing their shock and surprise.
Sean turned back to look at the corporal. "What am I going to do with you?" he growled.
"Shut up!" Sean ordered as the corporal started to open his mouth. "That was a rhetorical question; you can look it up later if you don't know what it means." Sean pondered a moment. Obviously there were a lot of new lycans who hadn't had time to learn the lore and history of the lycan races. Also, with so many of them being made lately, they probably weren't getting half the attention they needed.
"Sir, can we…" Wyatt started to say.
"Quiet, I'm thinking," Sean growled.
The corporal's attempts to free himself were now getting a little more frantic.
"Sorry," Sean said and loosened his grip a little, letting the man breathe again, just as a bunch of Marines wearing officer insignia ran into the room.
Sean held up his free hand to them and then pointed to a few unoccupied chairs. Apparently they knew what a lion was, and they all parked their butts accordingly, while the marines sitting around the table started to look worried.
Betty gave a soft sob then.
Sighing, Sean turned to her. "I'm not going to hurt anybody, Betty. Especially not your friends. But examples do have to be made, or next time I'll have to kill somebody," Sean said growling out the last. "Also, it's apparent that some of their training has been neglected, so I guess I need to deal with that now."
Looking back at Corporal Lee, Sean smiled. "You are going to get a sign. You are going to write on it: 'I've been a bad kitty'. You are going to put it around your neck, and you are going to shift into your tiger form and spent the next twenty-four hours visiting all the Marine barracks and units, where you will tell everybody exactly what happened, and that it is not wise to piss off a god.
"Oh, and yes, lions are your gods now. Understand?"
The corporal glared at him.
"I asked if you understood me, Corporal!" Sean growled and, again, put a little force into it.
The corporal's eyes got wide and he nodded.
"Wonderful. That's an order, and you can't shift back to human form until it's complete." Sean opened his hand, dropping Corporal Lee to the floor.
"Now, go!"
Lee went.
"Okay, for the rest of you," Sean said looking around the table. "You will finish your breakfast, then you will collect your weapons—unloaded of course—then you will shift into your animal forms and spend the next twelve hours field stripping and reassembling each of your firearms again and again, until you have it right."
"But that's impossible!"
"Well, after the first six hours you can do it in hybrid form, assuming you can achieve it by then.
"Oh, and you're going to do this once a day, every day, from now until you can achieve your hybrid form, understood?" Sean growled it out again and put some essence into the words, so they'd have no choice but to do what he told them.
"Yes, Sir!" they all chorused.
Sean smiled and looked at the officers. "There will be no further punishments assessed. Though you're free to yell at them later all you want. Now if you gentlemen," Sean motioned to the officers, "would follow me, I'd like to discuss some training issues."
Turning, Sean walked out of the room, heading for his workshop. Somewhere around here he had a new office, but damned if he could remember where the hell it was.
"Damn that Lee and his big mouth," one of the Marines muttered as the officers hurriedly followed Sean out of the mess.
"Yeah, we're screwed now," Wyatt said with a sigh. "I bet he assigns us every shit job he can find!"
Frank snorted. "He's already moved on. Sean isn't one for holding grudges. But you all did put your foot in it. Just be glad he wasn't in a bad mood."
"Bad mood? I gotta field strip a rifle with paws!"
Frank nodded. "Quickest way to integrate your two halves into one is to perform mundane tasks in your animal form. That's not punishment, that's training."
Wyatt blinked. "Oh!" Turning, he looked at the others. "Well, suck it up Marines, and finish your food, I guess we got training to do!"
Walking into his workshop, Sean noted that the four new machines had been moved out already. Going over to his workbench, he sat down and looked at the four officers who had followed him in.
"Okay, you need to get your folks some training here. If those guys are any indication, you're all a bit behind on learning how to shift into your hybrid form. We can't get you armored up with the good stuff until you can achieve that, okay?"
Sean looked at them as they all blinked.
"I thought you were going to chew us out for their behavior."
Sean identified him as Captain Yokota from his rank insignia and nametag.
"Yeah, well, I don't have time for that, and to be honest, what I did in there was probably a lot worse than beating him to within an inch of his life," Sean said with a smile, "but you guys need training, and it looks like you need to learn what you are now. Apparently a few things haven't sunk in, so you need to see to it that everyone is trained and in the know. Tell your commanding officer that this is an order from me. How you all want to deal with it is your business, as long as you start dealing with it now."
"What do you want us to do?"
"Find an experienced lycan volunteer or two; ask Gloria Channing for help with that. That person, or persons, is then going to teach all of you about lycan history and customs. Make sure your people learn it. You're living in a fantasy world now, and the rules aren't what you grew up with.
"Now as for learning about shifting into your hybrid forms, you need to spend more time in your animal forms and listen to your animal more. Give it more control; you'll discover that it's really just you. Do things like what I ordered those guys to do, and you'll figure it out a lot faster than you have been.
"And most importantly of all…"
"Don't piss off any lions?" Captain Yokota suggested helpfully.
"Well, that too," Sean said with a grin, "but don't be afraid to ask the older hands and those born as lycans for help. I realize the alphas doing the infecting are all overwhelmed right now, and I feel guilty that I didn't realize it sooner. For the most part, folks will help you out."
"Are you really god?" Lieutenant Dougan asked.
Sean smiled. "Lions are the gods of the lycans. We created them, all of them. You're our children. That's why we have power over you. So while that makes me a god, we are not the god."
"Have you met him?"
"Who, God?" Sean asked.
Lieutenant Dougan nodded, a look of expectation on his face.
Sean shook his head. "No." He thought a moment, then added, "But I think my dad has."
Sean looked around the room. "If there are no other questions, you're dismissed. I've got work to do."
#
Chief Inspector Karl Weber looked around the farmhouse. Everyone there was looking back at him. What he was doing would most likely cost him his job, his pension, and perhaps even his freedom. But what was a man to do? He'd known these people most of his life and had served here for over two decades. They were his friends, his duty.
"So, what you're saying," said Peter's father, Reg, "is the very things that are attacking the Americans are now attacking
us here as well? And we should leave?"
Karl nodded. "Yes, you should all go home; pack up and leave. Now. Not in the morning, not tomorrow afternoon. Now. This instant. Get your families and go."
"But, why?"
"Because we have no defense against these monsters, whatever they are. Normal weapons will not stop them."
Adele, from a farm down the road, spoke up, "But what about the government? Shouldn't we be asking them for help?"
"If the government knew I was here, I would be arrested and thrown in jail," Karl told them.
"What? How can that be?"
Several other people in the room protested as well.
"Because I have already been told that will happen to me, that is how it can be," Karl said and shook his head. "Someone obviously knows what's going on. I only discovered this because I caught Peter looking at the reports on the internet from America."
"I haven't seen any reports," Reg said.
"Neither have I," Karl agreed, nodding, "but Mr. Hoffner had special access set up through the technical company he worked for. The rest of us have all been very dependent on the same service, which I suspect makes it easy for us to be blocked."
"How are the Americans dealing with them?" Johan Riedel asked.
"They have a large lycan population, who are apparently able to stand up against these monsters and fight them," Karl said with a frown.
"So that law banning lycans from our country was not some strange moment of insanity from our government? Lycans are real?"
"Actually, I think that law was a very large act of insanity, now that I see what we're up against," Karl told them. "But yes, the lycans do exist. The Americans have gone so far as to recognize their existence, and I'm sure you have all seen the news about the attack on our embassy in the States by a group of them."
"And all this time I thought it was just a bunch of people in funny costumes," someone muttered in the back.
"So why isn't anyone doing anything about this?" Adele asked as Reg suddenly stood up.
"What are you doing?" she asked, turning towards him.
"Leaving. I suggest you all do the same. Chief Weber has told us if we stay, we will die, and no one can help us. I see no reason to doubt him."
"But my life is here! All of our lives are here!"
"No," Reg said slowly shaking his head, "our lives are now elsewhere. Only our deaths are here, like Marty and Gwen's."
"But monsters?" Johan said. "Do you really believe that?"
"I know over a dozen people have been brutally murdered and no one seems to be doing anything about it. That's good enough for me. I'll not risk my family, my wife, my children. It doesn't matter what it is, it's no longer safe here, and I will not return until it is!" Reg told them all as he walked over to the door.
Stopping a moment, he looked back at them, shook his head, and then left.
"Is there anything else you can tell us, Chief Inspector?" Adele asked.
"I've already said too much."
"Will you be leaving, too?" one of the others asked.
Karl shook his head. "It would look too suspicious if I were to go. Besides, my duty is here, to all of you. Now I must go warn others."
They watched as Karl put on his hat and left.
"What do you think?" Johan asked no one in particular. "Should we stay? Or should we go?"
"If we go, there will be trouble." Adele sighed.
"I think there will be trouble no matter what we do," said Sharon Mills, an old woman who had lived here since the forties, "but I've known Karl since he was a child. If he is willing to risk his career to warn us," she said sitting up as she looked around the room at everyone else, "we would be fools, ungrateful fools, to ignore it."
"Then I guess we're going," Adele said, getting up to leave.
The others nodded and, getting up, followed her out the door as they headed back to their own homes.
Shared Delusions
Pastor Cross looked around the room at a much smaller crowd than he'd come here with. None of the women where here, unfortunately. He'd heard the ones he'd shot had survived, but apparently those heathen lycans had had their way with them or something, as none of them had come back. Rumor had it even Geoffrey's hot little daughter was up there, living with them like a common whore.
Poor Geoffrey, Pastor Cross could only imagine what the man must be going through to have discovered not only that his daughter had sold him out, but that she was lying with those animals each night. That probably explained why he was the first to come back, and had rounded up as many of the others as he had.
"I'm glad to see all of you made it out on bail," Pastor Cross began. "Once again, we have our friends at the Anti-Lycan Society to thank for that. When they heard about our troubles, they were kind enough to send out a couple of their lawyers to get your bail reduced to something a bit more affordable."
"But we can't leave town," complained Cheranko, one of the newer members of the congregation.
"Why would you want to leave town?" Geoffrey said, his voice rough with the anger that always seemed to be consuming him these days. "The lycan scum are here!"
"So's your daughter…"
"I don't have a daughter!" Geoffrey yelled, jumping to his feet and threatening Cheranko with a fist. "She died out there with the rest of them. That's not my daughter! My daughter is dead!"
Cheranko nodded slowly, his face pale at the violence of Geoffrey's outburst.
Pastor Cross noticed several men frowning and nodding. He figured these were the men who'd had their sights set on Geoffrey's girl, and were equally upset that she'd been taken away from them.
He might be able to use that when the time came. He'd have to think about it. He'd also have to see about tracking down the men who hadn't come to tonight's meeting. While the women hadn't been charged by the local DA, their husbands had been, so they were stuck here, too, and even though the girls may have been corrupted, his bed was still rather cold and empty these nights.
Who knows? A little personal attention just might bring them back into the fold. No one was truly beyond redemption.
"Gentlemen," Pastor Cross said, raising his hands and motioning to them to settle down, bringing their eyes back to him. "Many of us lost somebody that day. None of us had any idea that the heathen unbelievers had grown so strong. That the devil had joined forces with them to give them such powers! But never fear, for we shall be victorious in the end, and the kingdom of heaven shall await ye all, because you are truly men of God, going about God's good work!"
He continued on for a few more minutes in a similar vein, until he had them all focused once more on him, and on doing the Lord's work.
"But how can we beat them?" asked George, one of his more trusted men, when he'd finished. "There are less of us now, and we don't even have any weapons anymore!"
"Did not the Good Lord provide for us before?" Pastor Cross asked.
George nodded slowly. "Yes, but…"
"But nothing!" Pastor Cross said loudly, but with a smile, to make sure everyone knew he wasn't casting doubts on George. He needed George, after all.
"Yes, I know times look hard for us all right now, but have faith in the Lord! He will provide! I have no doubts, and neither should you! When the time is right, he will reveal his plan to us, as was foretold! He will make his plans and his methods clear to you, through me, so that we may prevail against his heathen enemies! Have no doubts, and put your trust in the Lord!"
Pastor Cross smiled as they all nodded, looking hopeful once more, the beaten and lost expressions now gone from their faces.
"The ALS people have been kind enough to help with our getting this small hotel for the next few weeks," he continued. "Now, all of you, Mick has your room assignments. Geoffrey will keep you apprised of our meetings. But for now, go and rest. I know this has been a very trying time for you all."
Nodding, they all stood and went over to talk with Mick. Pastor Cross, meanwhile, left the room, heading in
to one of the back hallways.
"I heard what you told them," said Robert King, the Anti-Lycan Society man who had come, along with the lawyers, to help them out. "You really think you have a chance?"
"God will show us the way," Pastor Cross replied. "After all, he sent you here to help, did he not?"
Robert snorted. "We're here because you called us and offered to help repay those bastards for our dead members. God had nothing to do with it."
"The Lord works in mysterious ways," Pastor Cross replied with a smile.
"Oh, really? Tell me, was it the Lord who provided you with those women?" Robert said with a frown. He didn't like con men. He liked con men who believed the snake oil they were selling even less. "Cause if he did, I'm sure they'll all forgive you for what you did, right?"
Pastor Cross frowned. "I am the Lord's chosen, it is only right for me to spread my seed to whatever willing vessels the Lord sends my way. Now, are you here to insult me? Or do you wish to discuss business?"
Robert nodded slowly and held his tongue. He'd been sent out here with a mission, after all, and if these idiots were willing to follow a man who'd shot a bunch of their wives in the back after he'd knocked them up, they'd probably be willing to do this job, as well.
"Sorry," Robert said. "That was out of line."
"Better," Pastor Cross said with a smile. "Now, what weapons can you get us, and how soon?"
"That's the problem," Robert said, giving him a serious look. "No matter what kind of weapons I give you, they're not going to be stopped. We're dealing with trained soldiers, and they're a lot better with rifles than your people will ever be."
"Then what do you suggest?" Pastor Cross frowned. "Strong language?"
"Actually, we had an idea, but well, it will require great sacrifices by some of your faithful." Robert paused a moment, and then baited the hook. "So great that I'm not sure if any of your people would be willing."
"My people will make any sacrifice I command them to!" Pastor Cross said, sounding indignant. "Do not doubt their faith, Mr. King! Now, what did you have in mind?"
