by Rebecca Foxx
The four men scurried to gather up Benito’s body parts and place them in a large zippered black bag and place it in the back of their sizeable SUV.
They moved Claire’s body away from the puddle of blood and lifted her into the passenger seat of Benito’s vehicle where she would be blacked out for another thirty minutes.
When she awakened, she had only a slight memory what had taken place, but she knew that she and Benito had been attacked.
A couple minutes later, the parking lot was swarming with law enforcement trying to make sense of what happened. Search as they did, there was no trace of Benito to be found anywhere.
Then, a call came out on the police radio that his body and severed head had be found impaled on the top of an old Catholic church building’s iron fence. Attached to the boy was a simple note that read:
“We will not stop until every abomination is crushed under our feet.”
The slaughter had begun.
Chapter 3 – Rooftop Revelations
Thomas Blaine stood on the top of the building where The Committee held their meetings and looked out over the city. Other than the maintenance staff, he was the only to have a key to the rooftop of the 50-story building.
It was his sanctuary away from the chaos of the world around him. He had seen the slow decline of civilization and he and The Committee had put forth an effort to eliminate the worst element of society, but their vigilantism almost revealed the location and nature of The Committee. Were it not for the fast thinking and cunning of Thomas, their lives would have come to an end centuries earlier.
His Navy peacoat kept the wind off of his body and the upturned collar protected his neck. On the top of his head he wore a dark blue beanie that rounded out the visage of a sailor heading out to sea. Thomas had always preferred function over form and that wasn’t about to change.
A police helicopter flew overhead about thirty yards north of where he was standing and it made him think of the time he flew Wendy to the training camp in Pennsylvania to see if she had any insight as to how to improve on the tactics of ESET to fend off large numbers of detractors.
It was on that little trip that they kissed for the first time. Thomas had held her soft face in his massive, scarred hands and pressed her lips into his and it was as though she had just melted for him. She took in a deep, quick break and did her best to throw her arms up and around his neck but he was too tall for her to do so. She instead rested her hands on his chest.
He stood on the rooftop remembering the taste of her mouth, the smell of her hair, sensing her understated innocence, the feel of her curves under his hands, and the sound of her voice that seemed always excited to see him and to embrace him.
Thomas began to smile but it was quickly replaced with a look of longing and sadness. Being the senior member of The Committee brought with it a laundry list of responsibilities and because of them, it had been a very, very long time since he had felt good about pursuing any relationship.
He had even eliminated a spreadsheet of friends from his life because he needed the space to concentrate on the future of his race and how they may integrate quietly into the mainstream of society.
Being with Wendy was the first feeling of freedom and release he had felt in months and when she made him smile, it was as though he smiled from the bottom of his soul; if he would have had one, of course.
She was intoxicatingly fascinating to him. How she could have beauty, brains, and the skills to take out a vanload of miscreants was almost overwhelming.
He had experienced a lot of talented women during his long lifetime on the planet, but Wendy was special and kind. She was the soft one who removed the edge from his rough exterior.
He sighed deeply and stared at his feet. The powerful, the enigmatic Thomas Blaine was lovelorn and he wasn’t sure what to do with that fact.
Two buildings away to the east and downwind of him were a set of eyes watching him. He was being sized up, his vulnerability analyzed and his weakness identified. The eyes had turned a fiery red as ire and jealousy flooded Neema’s body.
He was feeling as he was because of Wendy and it was something that just could not be tolerated. He was deserving of a queen, not a pauper and Neema wanted to fill the role of queen for King Thomas.
She alone was worthy of his love and admiration and as she watched him vanish into the stairwell leading down to his apartment, the thought of him not understand her purpose on earth it would be difficult set of weeks for Wendy and anyone else who stood in her way.
Her mind wandered too as she pondered the life choices she had made since the split with Thomas. She had experimented with women, men, and combinations of both in order to find herself but she was not that person.
She derived a great deal of physical pleasure from being taken repeatedly, but it was Thomas who should have been doing the taking.
Neema’s experience with other men and women almost got her to expose the purpose and the design of The Committee, but fortunately she was able to resist and keep her wits about her.
She had an overactive sex drive which had driven her into the arms and the beds of most of the members of The Committee as well as elected officials, dignitaries, musicians, strippers, and even a Marine or two; at the same time.
She had fought to refrain from such behavior, but as she too headed down the stairs and away from her visibility perch, she began to dial the numbers of men who had been able to satisfy her needs and that night, she needed both men to take her and try to damage her intimately. It was what she needed and it was what she thought she deserved.
She had hoped that the men she invited over could keep up with her and handle her particular brand of sexual frustration that night.
Chapter 4 – The SUV
The men who were in the black SUV the night before were driving in two separate cars; two in each. They were driving to a little place about 30 miles from town in a secluded, very private part of the woods.
They would not be heard nor would they been seen entering the facility just as it was intended.
When they pulled up to the small house at the end of a long dirt road, the front doors to a massive barn behind the house opened up. Without hesitation, they drove into the barn where dozens of other vehicles were parked.
The doors closed behind them once they were parked and out of their vehicles. They walked toward a large, steel hatch with stairs that led down below the barn and emptied out into a large conference room on the left side, a logistics and data office on the right.
Most of the men and women were milling about, enjoying the coffee that was prepared for them and the Danishes that were prepared fresh for that particular meeting.
The four men walked in, picked up coffee, and found seats toward the front of the room by the podium. These four were all business and had no desire for socialization.
A tall, muscular man with a United States Marine baseball cap came to the podium and the crowd made their way to seats and settled in. The man behind the podium had a war torn look on his face; bearing scars and the right side of his face had scars from the time when vamps tried to burn him alive.
They called him “The General,” because no one knew his real name. He was the founder and director of this ad hoc organization that had been at work eliminating both vamps and shifters in the silence of the night.
The night previous was the first time a body had been left in the public to be discovered and it was as a result of a direct order from The General.
“Good morning, let’s get started,” he said into the microphone.
His voice was deep, gravelly, and intense. Before everyone had taken a seat, he began.
“Last night was a new operation and it has already met with success,” he said sternly.
“Media coverage is outstanding and without putting out any information about who we are, we were successful in beginning what I believe to be psychological warfare to end the scourge of monsters throughout our community, our county, our
state, and eventually, our country.”
The crowd roared in approval.
“There is something you need to know that I only recently discovered that you needed to be briefed on,” he said, interrupting the applause.
“Through the capture and interrogation techniques we are becoming famous for, we have discovered a whole different breed of shifters that are deadly, fierce, and possess powers heretofore unimaginable.”
He turned to the large white board behind him and began to write a numbered list.
“First, they are called Walkers and what that means is that they have the ability to travel through time as we understand it and when they do, they gain power and strength until eventually, they are almost impossible to kill.”
He paused to make sure they were understanding and listening to his words.
“Second, they can be killed by the same methods as vamps and other shifters but they are exceptionally quick and can shift into their animal form in a nanosecond rather than slowly.”
He looked around the room and he had everyone’s attention. The four in front of him all had the same lifeless expression, wearing the same dark colored clothing, taking notes at the same rate, and were intensely listening to The General.
“Lastly, friends, with every kill, there needs to be some type of public display. Be careful to watch for closed circuit cameras, watchful and nosy eyes, and be discreet. Never, under any circumstances dispose of a body at the scene of the elimination. Got it?”
The crowd bellowed, “Yes, sir,” in unison, acknowledging their understanding.
“As you leave, take your team communiqué with you and it will give you your next assignment and when you understand it fully, destroy the correspondence. Now, get the hell out of here and kill some monsters.”
Everyone stood and gave The General adulation. He was by far the most respected man in the whole organization and he had earned it.
The four stood and went to their message box and took the envelope and walked back up the way they had come. As always, they were the first team to leave and the first to completely understand the magnitude of their next assignment.
Chapter 5 – Knocking Boldly
She sat on his lap straddling him; her hands running through his long, thick hair. She kissed him feverishly, as though he was her lifeblood. Wendy was completely naked and they were situated on her couch, all of the shades drawn.
She lowered herself onto him hesitantly. She was a very strong and experienced woman but the size of him made her nervous. She was unsure that she would have the ability to take all of him inside of her, but she tried anyway.
Slowly, inch by inch, she settled herself on him. She could feel herself stretch but it wasn’t painful; it was pure ecstasy. He let loose with a thunderously low growl and her curvaceous ass rested on his thighs. She had taken all of him and it was a new experience for him. He kissed her deeply and whispered into her ear.
“You are the first woman to take all of me.”
The thought of being his first anything was franticly erotic and she began to grind her hips and gyrate on him. With each circular movement, she felt herself stretching to accommodate him. She could also feel him throbbing inside of her.
He reached behind her with his large, rough hands and squeezed her soft, round ass and with his upper body strength, helped her move her hips on him.
Her tummy rubbed against his and the softness of her flesh was driving him insane. She was more than he could have ever thought her to be he was surprised; pleasantly so.
She began sliding up and down on him, feeling him bounce against her cervix and she felt the pressure and lightheadedness of an epic orgasm on its way.
Her thighs quivered, her teeth bit her lip, her eyes were ablaze, and she clamped down on him as though to milk him and force him to cum with her.
She tossed her head back and screamed Thomas’ name as the first eruption overcame her. Her arms and legs were getting weak and as the second wave was about to crest, she felt him squeezing her ass so hard, she was certain he was going to leave marks.
Together, they exploded in pure pleasure. She could feel his warmth inside of her, and he felt as though he had turned into a fire hose; pumping floods of his juices inside of her.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.
Startled, Wendy sat straight up in bed; awakened from an intensely wonderful dream she never wanted to end.
She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, quickly put on a bathrobe and walked down her stairs to the front door. She looked out the peephole to see two uniformed police officers standing under her porch light.
She opened the door abruptly and the police officers identified themselves and confirmed her identity.
It was then that they revealed their intended business and told her about the brutal murder of her boyfriend.
The officers were somewhat taken aback by the lack of emotion in her voice, but a single tear streamed down her cheek as she thanked them for their time and told them that yes, she would make sure the arrangements were made.
The officers left her sitting on her couch alone, trying to take in all that she had just learned and still glowing in the aftermath of her dream about Thomas. She acknowledged her mixed emotions and tried to sort them out while walking to her kitchen and then making a fresh pot of coffee.
Across town, Neema heard about the death of Benito from her young assistant who was spending time with him. She was sobbing, and that bothered Neema to the point where she would have the assistant reassigned after she calmed down.
Neema ended the call and weighed her options as they were plenty. She was pleased that someone had killed Benito and she would find out whom and give them a reward.
When she really did find out, however, it was she who received the gift.
Chapter 6 – Dangerous Ground
The sun had set and the streetlights had begun to come on, providing an eerie glow to the neighborhood. There were no children playing, no traffic to speak of, and the silence of the streets provided a backdrop for the most sinister of activities. The air had developed a chill to it; blanketing the area in a light fog.
Posted silently on the rooftops of buildings surrounding the penthouse, the four dark figures posted with night vision goggles and high-powered sniper rifles equipped with infrared scopes. With a whisper, they confirmed to one another that they were in position and just waiting for the target to present itself.
Their target was a member of The Committee and would be the first of many declarations of war against the shifter and supernatural. The message would be clear that they were not wanted and needed to go into hiding or be destroyed. The human world had grown fearful of their presence and when fear strikes, the first response is to either fight or run. Humans were not going to run any further.
What frightened the population the most were the rumors that shifters had been intentionally breeding with humans to spread the virus that is lycanthropy.
Coupled with the fact that the Walkers were making themselves more public, organizations such as the one the four belonged to were popping up all over the country; though none were as deadly as theirs.
Patiently, they waited.
Inside the penthouse, Neema was growing increasingly impatient as her meal was late once again. It was to be delivered at the same time every evening she was home but for some reason, the current set of assistants couldn’t seem to tell time.
Just as she was reaching for her cell phone to rip someone to shreds, the entrance opened and one of her more loyal servants walked in carrying a tray that presumably contained her meal.
“It’s about damned time!” Her voice rang out and filled the penthouse.
“I am so sick of you people not being able to get it right, not being able to make it here on time. If things don’t change immediately, you will be destroyed and others will take your place.”
The timid little thing who carried her tray to her and sat it on the table was mortified.
She had only worked with Neema a couple weeks and loved the job. She would make sure that the cooks will know that her ass was on the line and she didn’t appreciate it.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” she said with her head down, “I will let the staff know that there will be consequences.”
The servant then turned and left the room.
Alone with her meal, Neema leaned back and began to slowly pick at her food. She wasn’t particularly hungry, but she felt the need to make an example of someone.
Her inquiries into whom it was that had taken out Benito were coming back empty and she was frustrated to the point of rage.
