by Hunter Blain
“Oh, this old thing?” He pushed the sleep button and closed the case.
“So, all those times I had said out loud that I missed T.V…” I asked, hands outstretched toward the iPad.
“You were mentioning your night?” he segued.
“Dude! I’ve had the craziest day.”
“Night,” he corrected.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want to tell the story that happened to me and not you?”
He didn’t respond, only glared in annoyance.
I recapped the past few evenings with Depweg basically saving my life, the demon terrorizing downtown, and Locke showing up. I left out the part where I was swindled into getting a tanning membership, so my car would be ready in time—which didn’t even matter in the end! I need a watch.
“Let me get this straight, John. While being filmed, by an officer no less, you showed off your supernatural speed?” He paused, considering. “The other members of the supernatural society are not going to take this lightly, you realize.”
“It crossed my mind. But honestly, almost all of them have fled to different planes.”
“So, it’s true,” Da looked at the ground in deep contemplation.
“What’s true?” I asked.
He continued to stare at the ground, not answering.
“Da, tell me what’s going on. Now!” I demanded.
“I must go.” He folded in on himself and retreated to a different plane, leaving behind a micro shockwave as the air rushed to fill the void.
Staring at the place where he had just been, I said “Abra-ca-fucking-dabra.”
One of these nights I was going to get Da to teach me that trick, damn faeries.
I decided to take the rest of the night off and catch up on some reading. Climbing into my iron fortress of solitaire, I felt it best to read some more Sandman Slim where the hero gets to do whatever he feels like, good or bad, and doesn’t give a damn what anyone else thinks. Helps to relieve the stress of the night.
It’s a well-known fact that the best sleep comes from procrastination. Have a report that’s due in a few days? Take a nap!
It didn’t take long before I drifted off into a deep sleep.
Chapter 24
Germany, 1945
Helping Depweg walk, we found an abandoned shack on the edge of a lake that had probably been used for fishing. As we crossed the distance to the small building, a black cat darted from the porch and into the bushes at the shoreline. Poor fella must be freezing.
We entered, and I set Depweg down on the cot in the corner of the room. Noticing that he had begun to shiver, I went to the small, cast iron furnace and threw in some pre-cut logs. Crouching down, I focused on a small portion of wood and ignited it. The flames slowly grew, bringing with it heat that slowly edged most of the cold out of the tiny shack.
“I’ll give it to you German’s, you know how to build stuff,” I said while looking around at the structure and nodding. “Speaking of, why did you try and kill me if you thought I was a Nazi?”
“They are evil, and I have sworn to stop those who harm the innocent.” I was beginning to like this guy.
“Why don’t you have an accent?” I asked, squinting at him.
“Why don’t you? Your red beard indicates Irish or Scottish de…” he started.
“Irish!” I corrected immediately.
“I stand corrected. However, my point is still valid.”
“We all have our gifts I suppose,” I said while nodding and casually looking at the ground, letting what he said set in my mind. I had never met another supe before.
Depweg moaned and reached for his oozing torso. I stepped to him and said, “Let me try something.” I extended my hand out to him, palm out and touched his skin. It was cold and that worried me. Letting blood flow out from my hand, I focused on his injuries. As the blood inched its way to his cuts, I was met with a bolt of lightning that coursed through my arm, making it go numb for a moment.
“Lilith damn it! What was that?” I asked while shaking my arm out, letting the feeling seep back into it.
“The… silver,” Depweg said weakly, as if he were out of breath. “It left a residue. You’ll... have to burn it closed.” As he finished, his eyes shifted to the furnace. I turned my head, following his gaze, then nodded in understanding.
I grabbed a quartered log and opened the furnace grate. I stuck in the end of the log and let it catch fire. Once it was sufficiently blazing, I stood and walked to Depweg. He took his shirt off and then rolled the fabric, sticking the lump between his teeth. Looking me in the eyes with full knowledge of what was about to come, he nodded once.
I stuck the end of the log to the bottom most wound and left it there for a few seconds.
Depweg bucked and screamed through clenched teeth, the cloth dampening the noise. The smell of burning flesh filled the small room, reminding me of the girl back in London. She was long dead now, but hopefully she had a full life with a family. Maybe her puppy had a litter of its own, continuing the cycle of life.
“It’s closed, it’s closed!” Depweg yelled. I was snapped out of my train of thought and moved the log further down the wound, careful to keep it in place only as long as was needed.
Within short order, and a lot of muffled screaming, all of Depweg’s wounds were closed. The skin blistered around the slashes. He let the cloth fall from his mouth and took in several ragged breaths. Snot hung off his chin and he wiped it from his face with the back of his huge forearm. He looked at me and smiled.
“Your turn,” he said, smirking.
“What?” I asked, standing up and backing away.
He pointed at my jaw line on the side of my face, right above my neck. I lifted my hand and was amazed to feel fresh blood was still flowing.
“Look, ah, me and fire, don’t really get along,” I said nervously.
“No choice. It will not heal on its own,” Depweg said while lifting himself into a sitting position with his good arm. I noticed his broken arm had already straightened. Interesting.
He stood up and reached out with a hand, gesturing for the still burning log. With a mountain of reluctance, I handed it to him. I’m fairly sure a whimper left my mouth at one point. Depweg’s smile widened. It was his turn.
I backed to the corner and Depweg followed. Turning my head, I closed my eyes and waited, hoping I wouldn’t explode into flames.
Ulric flashed in my mind, wailing in agony and thrashing his limbs while coated in merciless flames.
“Wait!” I said, placing a hand on Depweg’s massive chest. I manifested the sharpest blade I could imagine in my right hand, placed it at my jaw line where my ear connected and then sliced. I removed skin, muscle, and even most of my jaw bone. Blood cascaded from the horrific wound, coating my torso in a sheet of crimson.
Depweg stepped back with huge eyes and open mouthed.
“What are you doing!?” He almost screamed. Disgust morphed his features.
Closing my eyes, I sent all my will and focus into my face. I saw the artery stop gushing, then the bone filled out. Muscle grew over my jaw and skin started advancing from both fronts, meeting in the middle. A few moments later, and I was good as new. My beard finished the picture by sprouting to its former glory.
Depweg stood, holding the burning log, and wordlessly marveled at what he had just witnessed.
“Can’t have any residue if you cut it all out,” I said with a smile. My fingers running over my beard and the new skin underneath.
“You heal with incredible speed,” he said admiringly.
“Well, I had a big lunch,” I indicated by patting my stomach.
Depweg touched his own stomach which seemed to growl its jealousy.
“Hungry?” I asked.
“Always. But after sustaining these injuries, I must feed to gain my strength back.”
“Ooh, ooh!” I shouted while jumping up and down, “Can I drain the Nazi’s and you eat their flesh?”
“That, my friend
, sounds like a plan.”
We headed back out into the night, coming across another small unit of SS soldiers.
“John,” Depweg said while stripping off his remaining clothing, “Want to see a magic trick?”
Having lived through the era of magicians being regarded as royalty in the old world, I nodded enthusiastically.
He dropped in to the snow-covered ground on all fours. Limbs popped and extended. Hair, no, fur started sprouting from every inch of exposed skin. His jaws cracked and started growing out from his face. Teeth elongated into fangs that looked like my piercers, but it was all of them versus just my two.
After a minute or a minute and a half, I’m bad with time, the transformation was complete. Snow started collecting in his fur and he shook his entire body, clearing it.
Lifting his head to the sky, a bellow erupted into the night that made me jump in my own skin. It was a howl unlike any I had ever heard any creature make. Hairs prickled on my skin and I shuddered. It seemed, even to my ears, that there were multiple sounds emanating from his throat; and it was off putting. It sounded like someone had used all the fingers from their stretching hand to create a single chord on a piano, but it wasn’t unified. Some would argue it was minor, others would say it had to be diminished or augmented. Either way, it was unnerving as hell.
Depweg let the howl linger in the air after he stopped, and it had the desired impact. The camp grew silent and every soldier was out of their ramshackle buildings and standing near the large fire in the center.
With a chuff, Depweg sprang forward and rushed toward the camp. After a moment of awe, I realized what was happening and joined in the chase.
Depweg barreled through one of the flimsy wooden buildings that had hastily been built and out the other side. I mentally took back my statement of German’s building quality structures.
I slowed to a fast walk as I watched this giant wolf, who had somehow doubled in size, rip men apart.
“Save some for me!” I yelled as I started running again. I pulled out a blood-spear and threw it at the men who were frozen in place with fear. It pierced two of them and gashed the leg of a third. I willed blood from the two men before their hearts could stop beating, feeling the rush of life energy flood into me. I started laughing at the top of my lungs and running in place, barely able to contain the energy.
Depweg leapt on the men as they died and began rending massive chunks of flesh from bone. I pulled back my spear and willed it into a sword, letting another sword grow from my free hand.
Bloodlust engulfed my world as I vaulted from Nazi to Nazi, stabbing at swollen livers and inhaling every ounce of liquid flowing through their arteries as quickly as inhaling a deep, chest stretching breath. Bleached bodies fell to the ground where my new best friend, pun intended, tore into the meatiest of body parts before going to the next.
Gracefully flying through the air in a magnificent summersault, I was in awe of how fast this gorgeous monster took entire thighs in one bite, followed by calves, arms, and then the chest; all the most protein dense cuts. He seemed to almost swallow the meat whole, allowing for an excellent time-to-kill ratio. PS took note of how powerful the beast was and stored it for later reference.
Letting my blood-blades absorb into my palms, I picked up the quivering frame of the last man standing, rather, last man in a fetal position. Holding his neck and pulling his back to my chest, I used my free hand to dive deep into his mind, searching for a particular memory. Letting myself slide down the tendril into his skull, I effortlessly found the part of the mind associated with stored information. Like flipping through a book, I searched his recent memories until I came across what I was looking for, letting myself slide behind the eyes of his past.
I was a passenger in his memory, unable to alter anything. My eyes surveyed what he saw, my ears listened to what he had heard. Unfortunately, this man suffered from tinnitus and I could only make out what was directly around me. That was one of the subtle gifts that I most appreciated once turned; total silence from the ringing that plagued any who worked around loud animals, machinery, and gun fire.
We were in a room, possibly a large tent, with several seats pointed uniformly to a large map of Europe. On the map were several red arrows, each of which marked a camp and the progression of the spreading army. In an instant, I knew everything I had sought to learn and let my essence flow back into myself.
“Thanks,” I whispered into his ear before sinking my teeth into his neck. It was fun to go back to the tried and true methods of feeding from time to time. I didn’t inhale everything he offered. Instead, I opted to enjoy each frantic heart beat as it spurted otherworldly ecstasy into my being. My eyes rolled back, and a primal moan emanated from somewhere deep inside my chest. The Nazi fought at first, but grew weaker with each betraying beat of his heart. Once the organ began to pound an erratic beat, I sucked the remaining life in one gulp.
My eyes rolled back into focus and was momentarily stunned at the enormous, salivating wolf in front of me. I stood unmoving as the beast chuffed and stepped forward a pace.
Realization dawned as a glob of blood, intermixed with saliva, fell in strings to the ground. I held the drained body out in front of me, lifeless limbs hanging loose and head bobbing with the motion. Depweg whined.
“You want this? Huh, do ya boy?” I teased, moving the body back in forth in front of the monster.
Depweg answered with a growl that reverberated through the ground and up my feet. Fangs were bared, and the point was made clear.
“Only a joke,” I said apologetically, dropping the body and lifting my hands in placation.
Keeping his slit eyes on me, Depweg lowered his head and rammed his point home. He bit off the arm of the man and then began eating it, bones and all. He might as well have been eating a fresh loaf of bread. His gaze never left me as the last of the fingers went down his throat in a dramatic display.
“You and me, we’re going to be great friends. I can feel it,” I said with a smile.
After he finished his meal, Depweg pawed over to one of the buildings, stuck his head in, then moseyed on to the next. After a few buildings, he chuffed and walked inside. From outside, I could hear the popping of bones and ligaments, accompanied by a controlled, muffled whimpering.
I crunched through the fresh snow and into the lukewarm building to find Depweg removing clothing from a large backpack. I noted the burns on his torso were healing up nicely. He donned the contents of the pack, starting with the full body long johns and finishing with the boots that were a half size too big.
As he finished, I asked, “Hey, you just ate at least thirty kilos of meat. Where did it all go?” I gestured to his flat stomach.
“How many gallons of blood did you just consume?” He responded by returning the questioning stare at my own stomach. I looked down, feeling my own stomach.
“Touché sir.” I had always wondered where the surplus went. Ulric theorized that it was instantly converted into energy, but had no insight as to where the physical blood went.
Depweg was now wearing a full Nazi soldier’s uniform while I wore the shit out of an officer’s coat, albeit without the medals and sleeve.
“What’s the plan, Deppyweg?” I asked playfully.
“Well, Jonathan…” he started
“It’s just, John,” I provided with a rehearsed interruption.
Putting emphasis on the first word, he continued, “…I plan on taking out as many of these bastards as I can for using my body in their experiments.”
“That is the keenest thing I’ve ever heard. Thank you for sharing that with me,” I said in awe.
His stern look was both assessing and annoyed.
“That is whacky of them, though. But hey! I happen to know where every one of those jerk’s camps are and what directions they are going. I could show you?” I was less than confident that he would bite, if you’ll excuse the pun.
“What, like a couple of spooks?” he asked. His fe
atures softened.
“Pardon? I haven’t heard that lingo before,” I said, confused if I was in or not.
To answer, he said in German, “Better get used to modern slang if you’re going to be in cahoots with me.”
I answered in perfect German, “I don’t know what cahoots means either.”
“You’re German is too perfect. There are nuisances to each region. Tell me, where is the next encampment?”
I told him and we were off. As we trudged through the snow, he provided information on accents of the regions, and told me of his horrific backstory. After I told him my own, we walked in silence, feeling each other’s seeping wounds that drove us to eliminate the villainous cancers of the world. A comradery was born that night, and it felt good to walk alongside another supe with a moral compass that aligned with my own.
Chapter 25
Now
I awoke to cold water dripping on my forehead. My eyelids felt like weighted steel that were almost impossible to open. The muscles in my body felt like concrete and took a massive effort to move. I drunkenly pawed at the LED switch on the side and the lights came on.
The trickling sped up as water found new cracks to enter through, meeting in the middle and rushing to kiss my face.
I pushed with all my might on the lid, but my muscles couldn’t bare the weight. Water started pouring in like a bathtub overflowing, cascading down into my coffin.
I wasn’t worried about drowning, but the water was starting to burn from the iron residue being dragged in and mixing like a John soup. “Good to know,” I murmured, trying to force myself awake. It was taking all my energy to stay conscious.
Placing my hands on the iron, I tried to move it sideways, upwards, and downwards. Nothing worked. I laid back in the burning water and started to panic. I know it had to be day outside, but I shouldn’t be weak enough where I can’t even lift my damn lid! An image of me wearing Uggs and holding a Starbucks coffee while yelling “I can’t even!” shot through my mind.
The iron infused water was now up to my ears. I lifted my head and was aware that an alarming amount of my hair was now floating, unattached to my noggin.
