He could, if he actually read it.

I would, but I'm sleepy right now and not in the mood to read several pages worth of posts.

Ok, then do it some other time. Tada.
I will be continueing on chapter 23 shortly, i sort of have a few other projects i'm working on. The fighting scene is already finished.

Well, you can read the entire story itself without side-posts here.

Wow, that's extremely useful.

*readifies*

Umm, not to sound impatient, but is there any overall plot or something that we're working towards? Because I can't really see it yet.

No, we don't have a general idea. Everyone has the freedom to take the story where he/she wants to take it. NOW READ THE DARN THING.

I'm trying. But it's really long. It'll take some time to read it and then come up with some means for me to add myself in without being out of context.

Just do what everyone has- start your characters up somewhere and then find a way to enter the main storyline (probably by meeting someone else's characters.)

Oh, and hopefully I'll still be able to write. Well, I guess time will tell once it gets back to my part.

Theodore’s fangs caught Louie completely off-guard and the monstrosity that was once an innocent man left his mark in Louie’s cold cheek. The sight of blood made Theodore lose the last bit of sanity he had left.
“You shall not leave this place alive, master.” He heard the man speak.
His sinister voice would make any normal man tremble in fear. This spectacle was not one witnessed by a normal man. This house was filled with beasts. And the beast in Louie was awakened by the mere sight of pure evil in front of him. He reached for his scythes and unleashed his fury upon the walking corpse that was standing but a few metres away from him. The scythes cut trough the air, releasing a soft gasp of air with every strike they made. Theodore let himself sink back into the chair, missing the scythes by an inch.
He kicked Louie against the forearms, making him drop the scythes. The fiend reached for a scythes but Louie grabbed him by his upper arm and slashed his neck open with one of the scythes.
Within a breath, Louie stood behind Theodore and cut open his back, gutting him like a fish. But the strong man did not give up the easily, he kicked Louie into the chair who let go of the scythe he was holding. Making it fall into his own stomach. Theodore grabbed the other scythe off of the floor and made a 180 degree spin. Barely missing Louie, who had sank down into the chair.
‘That was close’ Louie thought to himself. He wanted to strike again, but Theodore jumped back and hit the Grande piano that had collected quiet a bit of dust over the ages. .
“Stay still so I can kill you, you spineless worm.” Louie shouted. It seemed that the bloodlust had gotten the better of him, and his calm nature made place for the anger.
Theodore cackled and raised his scythe, preparing for his final strike. The two men faced each other, a moment that seemed frozen in history. Until Louie jumped forward, shoving the scythe deep into the intestines of Theodore who slowly sank down to the ground.
Louie grabbed him by the throat and placed his neck on the edge of the piano, before slamming the lid shut with all of his power. Theodore’s decapitated body fell down with a dull thud.
Louie turned around and leaned against the piano, taking a breath… so to speak.



Tom sat on the front porch of their house, whipping his glasses clean as he gazed into the streets of the slumbering village. His mind was deep in thought when Tony Waterback walked out onto the porch.
They both looked at each other for a moment and then Tony looked at the sky, trying to find his home planet. He spotted his little, bright planet to the left of the constellation Thesus.
“Have a seat.” Said Thomas. Tony sat down. “That’s my home planet, over there.”
Thomas looked, without responding. Sometimes, silence was enough to comfort a person he thought to himself. “There will be a busy time ahead for us.” Thomas finally said. Breaking the silence and trying to get Tony’s thoughts off of his home planet. It seemed to work.
“You are right, the refugees will be arriving shortly, and we have to get the mansion ready for them.”
Thomas nodded. “After we get Louie to claim the mansion.”
“Yes, exactly, after we get… What?” Tony said in surprise.
“Well, we need him to record a message on video, telling the council that he is still alive. We will need to hurry though. Remember me telling you about the death verification …”
“Oh yes, let’s not go there again.” Tony said. “We’d better hurry up and find him instead of sitting around on the porch.” Thomas nodded “We’ll get a good night sleep first. We will go look for him first thing in the morning.”




Alexander Garand pulled the trigger and as in slow motion the bullet spat out of the gun, piercing trough the body of what seemed to be a young and very hungry werewolf. It collapsed on top of the young hunter, who could hear the rest of the werewolf’s pack come closer. The stench was unbearable and the heavy wolf on top of him prevented him from moving. He shook his body, trying to get out from underneath the corpse. The werewolf’s body did move, but unfortunately landed on top of Alexander’s lungs. The hunter cursed for all it was worth and heard that the other wolves had almost reached him. They would not just devour them like they usually would do too their prey. They would want to make him suffer for killing one of them. Alexander would die a thousand deaths tonight.
The shadowy figure of what appeared to be a rabbit came moving towards him. “Help.” Alexander said silently. “Save your breath, on the count of three, you try to push this thing off. We don’t have much time. Six of these things will be here in about 30 seconds.” The shadowy figure and Alexander combined their strengths and managed to push the werewolf away. “Grab my hand, we have to make haste.”
The hunter did not resist, this person had just saved his life. This made him a trustworthy person in his book. “We are near Greenthorpe. It’s our only chance to survive, these werewolves do not leave the woods.” They ran as fast as their legs could carry them. They could almost feel the warm and moist breath of the disgusting beasts in their necks, but the wolves stopped as soon as they arrived at the edge of the woods. “Allow me to rest for a moment, sir.” The hunter said.
“The night holds many horrible secrets, it may be best for us to proceed directly to my current habitat.”
“Sir, what is your name?” The young hunter said as they walked on.
“My name is Louie Greenthorpe.” Louie turned around, the paleness of his skin could be seen trough his fur. “And you are…?” Alexander pulled out his gun and held it inches away from Louie’s face. “…Very sorry about this.”



Sorry about this taking so long. But we sort of have a crisis at another story/comic site.

Originally Posted by SlaYo

...He kicked Louie against the forearms, making him drop the scythes. The fiend reached for a scythes but Louie grabbed him by his upper arm and slashed his neck open with one of the scythes.

I'm sorry, but this passage just bothers me. The second scythes should be singular, and I think you should use a different word from "scythe" for at least one of the three.

Otherwise, this is an excellent addition.

Should I wait for Kaz or begin writing my segment right away?

Wait untill i've finished the entire chapter :P
And i'm sorry dude, but the scythes are these little small blades. Not the huge kind.
It's kind of hard to explain.

Originally Posted by SlaYo

Wait untill i've finished the entire chapter :P
And i'm sorry dude, but the scythes are these little small blades. Not the huge kind.
It's kind of hard to explain.

Something like this (just without the holes in the blades), maybe? Those are smaller handheld scythe-like weapons; the blades are usually about 15-20cm long. I own a set of them, which was why they came to mind when I read your chapter.

Those are the ones i ment. I did not know the name for them unfortunatly and was hoping that people would understand.
I'm trying to finish it right now guys. HANG IN THERE.

I understood what you meant by "scythes," what I meant was that you should swap one of the times you used "scythes" out for something like "them" so that it's less redundant.

In the midst of the night a young woman moved towards the office of Gary Parker.
The dark corridor made her nervous. The moonlight fell over a dark and gloomy portrait of a man that makes his success over the corpses of others.
“Please, step into my office miss.” A voice said over the creaky intercom.
The young rabbit almost fell down straight on her face. The high heels she was wearing were not at all comfortable and her shivering legs made it even harder to keep her balance.
But working in the office of the wealthy young man who was sure to become governor was the dream of every young secretary.
She opened the door slowly and walked in. The curtains were drawn shut and the room was lit by a few candles. Gary Parker leaned against his desk and smiled as she walked in.
“Miss Jones, it’s a pleasure too see you here after all. I’m sorry that this interview had too take place at such a late time. But we want our people to be prepared for everything.” He told her with a tone to his voice that made her shiver even more. His voice changed immediately when he asked her to take a seat.
“Let’s get down to business, shall we?” Gary opened a drawer in his desk and took out a small letter opener. He walked over to the young woman and stabbed the dull end of the opener trough her throat.
He pulled the blood red object out of the soft flesh and licked it off before he placed it back into his drawer.
Gary Parker’s monstrosity was only topped by his grace. He cleaned a few droplets of blood from his shirt and enjoyed this moment. His prey had been so easy to do away with.
A knock on the door brought him back to reality. “Ah, my dinner guests have arrived.”


-



Alexander Garand sat there for a moment. This man, or beast had saved his life and in return. He would be taking his. It didn’t seem like the right thing to do. No matter what this man had done to those people.
Had he changed so much in the time he had spent behind his desk?
“Can we get this over with, please?” Louie whispered.
Alexander felt the little droplets of sweat roll down his face. He moved the gun away from Louie’s face and pulled the trigger several times. Releasing a series of wooden bullets into a thick tree.
Louie got up. “I don’t have the time for this.” And he hit him across the face. Knocking him unconscious.
“Better stay out of the woods the next time, soldier.”


-





Next please.

Should I wait for Kaz or just go ahead?

He's on #jj2 quiet often. I'll ask him about it.

http://cache.solutionsmanagement.com...mmersickel.jpg

hammer &... scythe?

Sickle*

I didn't put the name... not even my site..
my point was that im not that uber-good at English, and I wouldnt know what you mean by a small scythe. if I read all the destriptions right, the scythe mentioned is not the Grim Reapers lawn mowing device, but more of a curved blade, whick in my mind bears a close resemblance to a "sikkel*" wich would be "sickle" as TB pointed out. (*dutch word)

Someone could've told me that before

Risp, you may proceed if you wish.

Alright. I have started my chapter; I will be done this evening.

"Sir, we have another refugee ship requesting landing clearance."
The Director sighs. He is not in a good mood- the Oakloma space port had been a mess all morning, with refugees from the turmoil in Diamondous landing everywhere. "Just send them to pad eight."
"Alright, sir." The aide presses a button and starts to speak into her microphone. "Shuttle, you have clearance to land in pad eight. I repeat, pad eight."
A few moments pass as they listen to the sound of the shuttle landing and opening up. The Director starts to look annoyed. 'Why did ANOTHER ship have to land? I thought the last of them had landed only half an hour ago. It was getting quiet and I was about to get out my lunch, but now I have to go through a lot of complex docking procedures and by then someone else will be wanting to land and then...' However, the Director is drawn out of his thoughts.
"Sir, the shuttle they are in appears to be stolen!"
"Yes, yes, and then someone would start bugging me about the... wait, what? A stolen shuttle? What are you waiting for, call security!"

Jargon walks out of the shuttle, totally oblivious to all of the turmoil around him. A security officer points a gun at him and starts to shout something about stopping, but Jargon ignores him. Jargon takes out his autocaster then, with a single twist, activates a spell he had coded in earlier. All the lights in the space center suddenly go out simultaneously, as the security camera logs suddenly are erased. Jargon walks out of the building, into the bright, bright day with a very worried looking John at his heels.
"Very... dramatic entrance, Jargon, but don't you think there would be a way to go anywhere without doing so much damage?"
Jargon turns back to John. "Well... they were asking for it. I mean, challenging our landing clearance? Just because we had to steal a spaceship to leave doesn't make us outlaws or anything."
John sighs and looks around a bit before replying. "Well, it looks like I will have to take up a pseudonym and re-integrate myself into normal society. You... go do your own thing. As far away from me as possible." He pauses. "Well, anyway, adios. I wish you luck... just don't visit me till things cool down."
And with that, he leaves.
Jargon walks for a few minutes, looking at a disk of the information he had gotten earlier. It talks of the various places refugees are free to stay, and all but one appears to be full. Jargon sighs, then continues on. After another half hour of walking and getting annoyed at how long this will take, Jargon passes the site of a crashed spaceship. Suddenly, he gets an idea. He takes a small disk- Robby's CPU- and puts it on the ground. After a few minutes of fiddling with his autocaster, he waves it in the air and makes a final twist. From the junk of the spaceship crash, a whirlwind of activity emerges. Junk flys through the air, forming a machine around the CPU core. Through the chaos of activity a definitive shape begins to emerge. Eight skeletal, spiky metal legs... a disconcerting spiderlike body... an array of eerie red-glowing eyes... looking more like some undead spider monster then anything, his transportation is ready.
Jargon swings onto it and begins his merry way to Greenthorp.

Excellent Risp. Thank you for your addition.
You have brought an interesting character in our midst.

On to Acid.

I'm wondering if I should opt out this round... I'm just not getting any inspiration at all.

*COUGH*

Yeah, sorry, nothing's coming to me. I'll skip this round, and see if the situation has improved by the next time it goes by me. So, on to... Ducky, right?

Thank you for coughing Alister.
And thank you Acid for informing us in time.

Originally Posted by SlaYo

Thank you for coughing Alister.
And thank you Acid for informing us in time.

And I thought it wouldn't ever be my turn again.
I'm trying to get in touch with Spaztic, sorry for the holdup. Ugh. I'll try and keep this moving.

(-), that's frustrating, Verity thought, as the ship came into her line of vision.
"We have to turn around."
Icarus and Naomi's heads swiveled as one towards the source of the absurd notion, disregarding the sight of the ship before them readying its missles.
"We cleared Diamondus's atmosphere almost three hours ago, Verity," Icarus said, trying not to sound as though he was explaining two plus two to a small child. "Without a teleport we're still only halfway to Carrotus. Why would going back help us? Lets go to Nimbus or -- "he glanced briefly at one of the screens-- "we're even close enough to Muckamo to duck under the cloud cover."

Verity sighed, looked back and forth between Icarus's and Naomi's young, but never naive, eyes, and made up her mind.
"No," she said, "We aren't. What do you two know about the Diamondus Warzone?"
There was a brief pause in which another blast rocked the ship.
"Never mind," said Verity, "I'll tell you later. Until then, I'm going to fly for a moment, if you don't mind. " She reached for the control panels, but a gold-furred paw blocked her own. Verity looked up into Naomi's eyes.
"I beg your pardon," Naomi said calmly, "but first of all, this is my ship, and I don't think anyone flies it better than I do. And secondly I may not know anything about the war here but Icarus has been flying escape transports off of Diamondus for the past thirteen months. I think I might assume enough to say that he has some idea what's going on here. With all due respect, I'm not ready to just let you take off with my ship and some (-)-and-bull story."
Verity inclined her head, refreshed by the courage the younger woman offered.
"Understood, Naomi." She used the other rabbit's name in an acknowledgement of the new respect she had for her, and could see that Naomi appreciated it.
"I am out of line to assume that I am in any position of authority here. The situation is merely one that I believe I understand a little better than you do and it may be safer to allow me to use my knowledge. However, if you would prefer to fly the ship, I would rather you do so, although it may be advisable for you to pay attention and do exactly as I tell you." Verity spoke quickly, knowing their time was short, and hoping to disguise the note of panic she feared would creep into her voice.
Naomi slid back into her seat, her fingers light on the controls, and Verity braced her paw against the doorway of the cockpit, as another blast, stronger than the last, threatened to knock her off her feet. The local force field around the small shuttle was rapidly weakening.
"Icarus," said Verity, "they've been aiming at the left engines, have they not?" From the copilots chair Icarus nodded, his eyes focussed on the screens.
"Knocking out a side engine would put us into a spin, " Verity murmured under her breath.
The shuttle shuddered as Naomi's skillful fingers maneuvered it between blasts from the opposing ship.
"That ship is a member of the party on Diamondus that's still in control. The federation is trying to prevent import and export and recently there's been theorization about a projective screen that they wanted to put into action to prevent unauthorized ships approaching or exiting the planet. I have no idea why private shuttles are being disallowed, but basically what I'm saying is that we've been locked into a synthetic orbit around the planet for the past three hours and that the planet--" here Verity waved at a bunch of symbols on one of the screens-- "is really just a projection and we've been blocked from seeing the real planet which is still right underneath us. They're going to knock out our side engines so we'll fall directly downward, through the atmosphere, and potentially crash on the planet rather than drift off somewhere else."
Icarus gave Verity a look that clearly spelled double-ewe-tee-eff.
"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."
"It's government, Icarus. They don't know the meaning of a simple plan."
Naomi dodged a blast from the opposing ship.
"Naomi, engage the ship," Verity said suddenly. Naomi glanced briefly up. "Engage? They're six times our size. That's practically the size of a transport. I only have the lowest level preinstalled weaponry on my ship."
"I want you to fire one round at them and then turn around and head back towards the planet. We have to land again or they'll kill us."
"See? Imminent death," Icarus joked, but was stifled by a withering glance from Naomi before she tapped the trigger twice with her thumb. The shots ricocheted off the laser shield surrounding the larger ship in a burst of sparks and smoke and Naomi grunted, "hold on," before dragging the stick hard to the left and hurtling back towards the blue-glowing, grapefruit-sized globe on the screens that represented Diamondus.
As Verity suspected, they were not pursued, although a few parting shots glanced off the flickering force field on the tailfins of Naomi's shuttle.
"Give it five minutes..." she guessed, leaning over the window screens.
The three rabbits were silent as Naomi guided the ship, watching the screens, and then the whole display blackened for a fraction of a second before a scrolling static bar slid down the screen, flickered, and the horizon of a planet mere miles below them became visible glowing under its gentle purple atmosphere. Icarus swore softly.
"They've cloaked the whole planet."
The cool female voice of the Intergalactic Positioning System droned on the overhead, "We are now entering the United Diamondian Planetary Systems. Preparing to enter stratospheric levels on Diamondus, intrauniversal magistration code 36873912L-t. Please note that none of the Diamondian Territories nor the outlying planets in the Diamondus Union are able to support any freelance communications units at this time."
The trio ignored the voice, focussing on the planet below them. Icarus noticed Naomi's paw, shaking slightly on the controls of her ship. He reached over and covered it with his own black-furred paw.
"Hey," he said softly, "We're okay. It'll be fine."
She mustered a smile. "It just...really shakes me up that they can mess with us like that. What kind of place is this? How do we get off the planet?"
Icarus shrugged. "It's never been a problem before. I make pretty regular trips on and off and I've always made it just fine. Verity's familiar with the situation anyway. We're all in good paws." He looked over to the grey rabbit for confirmation of his statement, but Verity was gazing at the printouts on one of the screens and did not meet his eyes.
Naomi's eyes were wide, though, as the small shuttle tilted through the myriad of rainbow coloured gas layers composing Diamondus's atmosphere and they landed the shuttle on a small charred landing strip in a suburban area on Diamondus's southern curve.

One of the suns had set already and the second one was lurking near the horizon as the little party disembarked from their ship, casting long shadows across the ground.
Verity knew the township vaguely; at least, she knew it was still neutral as far as the war was concerned. To her knowledge it was a good place as any to bring the two young rabbits she was with. She and Eddie had made sporadic checkpoints here while on scheduled target harvests, as they had called the routine small parties that were sent out to find potential hotspots of information that they could hack into and destroy. There was a nice tavern here if she recalled correctly.
She walked away a few strides to allow Icarus and Naomi a private conversation and climbed the crest of a hill to scope out their surroundings.
Naomi didn't want to look childish, but she was still nervous and she clung to Icarus's arm as they climbed out of the ship. "You were great flying," he told her, "the best."
Naomi clung. "I would feel better if we could talk to some kind of authorities."
Icarus sighed. "There's no authority anymore, Naom. Everyone's biased. Everyone's corrupt. Once we get away from the planet we'll be fine... and we WILL get away." He put his arms around her slender body.
"Now lets go find Verity and get something to eat." He pressed her forward towards Verity's outline perched on the hilltop beyond them.
Descending the hill into the small town, everything appeared normal, but as the three rabbits came close they could see that even this sleepy village was unable to escape the ravages of civil warfare. Near the center of the city what had once been a formidable estate lay still smoking in its own wreckage, and presently they passed a charred building that, in the quickly fading sunset, they could see had once been the local police headquarters.
Naomi slowed as they walked by this collapsed structure, observing glowing embers around the brick doorframe.
"This just happened..." she said, wavering.
"Police stations are the first to be targeted by militia or unorganizations," Verity stated briskly but softly. "It's a routine mission. It doesn't mean there's any danger here. Ravaging clans or renegade Union members will comb the land and anything they see in the form of authority that doesn't conform to their beliefs is...negated.
People-- especially civilians in a quiet town like this-- listen to authority figures," she explained, "They will go where they are told, if only in an effort to remain neutral."
She hesitated, but then pressed her paw quickly onto Naomi's shoulder in what was, however awkwardly, obviously meant to be a comforting motion. Icarus could see it was not something Verity was inclined to do naturally, but he could also tell that Naomi appreciated the protective gesture.
He knew that Naomi would become more attached to a figure like Verity's, an older, perhaps more experienced female of Naomi's own species, because of her motherless childhood.
Verity removed her paw quickly, though, and repeated, "It doesn't mean we're in danger."
Despite that, Icarus slid his arm around Naomi's shoulders as they walked on.
They entered a small tavern with a sign over the weatherbeaten door announcing it as The Marinated Pearl and quietly slunk into a corner table. Icarus and Naomi put their heads together to converse and Verity ordered a meal from a pudgy, buxom female lizard with a grubby notepad.
"-- and a Medivian Sour Ale for me," she finished. Their waitress grunted, sticking her pencil stub into a dirty pocket, and trundled back towards the kitchen.
While waiting for their food, the three bandied potential means of leaving the planet and chewed absently on the slightly wilted carrots that the waitress had plunked down on their table. Verity did not contribute often to the discussion, but, sitting across from Icarus and Naomi, only pointed out why the ship wouldn't be able to circumnavigate the planet for more than six consecutive orbits or that the cloaking device had been projected from air rather than off of the planet's surface.
"Is it even legal? Why are they doing this anyway?" Naomi wondered aloud, stretching strands of spaghetti for whole feet between her plate and fork. Verity sipped espresso and burnt her tongue and did not answer Naomi except to say, "The government doesn't want intergalactic cooperation."
Icarus frowned into his brussels sprouts.
"It was installed in the past two days," Naomi said thoughtfully, "so could we assume that they are just testing it? A synthetic orbit has to be hard to get perfect. Maybe they'll like, shut it down again."
Icarus sat up rather suddenly. "Wait," he said, "what pulls something into orbit in the first place? Isn't it some kind of magnetic force? What if we coated the ship in something that wouldn't be attractive magnetically to whatever's holding it? To keep the all the shuttles circling the planet, it has to be magnetized to a component all ships have in common."
"I think you'd have to completely negate the charge, not just block it," said Verity, but her voice was not so pessimistic. "It's a viable option...at this point probably our only option."
Naomi smiled hesitantly. "We'll be back on Carrotus before we know it!"
"Excuse me. I couldn't help overhearing... you're flying to Carrotus?"
Icarus and Naomi both started in suprise at the new voice. At the end of their table, a tall, lanky white rabbit, stood with his ears cocked anxiously. His fur was grimy and he looked as though he had not slept for days, but he nodded his head courteously to them. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to suprise you. My name's J--" he began, but the white rabbit was taken considerably more by suprise when Verity flung herself away from the table and smashed him into the floor, her blaster appearing from her leather boot and pressing its barrel into his temple.
Her knee in his throat as he wheezed for air below her, she cocked her RF and whispered at him, "I already know your name, Jonathan."
The young rabbit couldn't speak, but his eyes widened when he heard his father's name.



[Disclaimers: I can't find CT or Spaztic anywhere on this green earth, so I would like to apologize for taking too many athoritative licenses and if either of them want me to change anything with their characters I'll do so. CT expecially, I sort of just gave a background to your character that I don't know if you want him to have. I'll perform surgery on this if need be.]

(Ugh, and just for the record, I think this chapter sort of marks a pinnacle for Worst Things I've Ever Written.)

I don't mind at all, Duckah ... I like it.

Yay Ducky!

*notes Doubble Dutch is next*

*also notes the full story URL since he was looking for it just now*

Zzzzz, wha? Oh, right the story. Right.


Chapter 27: Remittance


It was probably just before sunrise when they found the werewolf.

Michele looked at the deformed corpse. She'd been taught enough by her father to know what one would look like of course, but she'd never seen one up close. She knelt down and examined the prone figure. There were no signs of any attack, no blood... but looking closer, under the fur, there was some sort of bruise-

*Thomp* It was as if she'd been hit from behind with a pillow shot from a cannon, a fuzzy feeling enveloped her and she collapsed. There was another thomp and a yell. Looking up she saw Tier standing over a robed figure. His arm was limp and he was holding something that looked like a small rod. A crunching sound made her look at her stomach. A small circle had been neatly cut out of her shirt and her lower half was twisted at an unnatural angle. As she looked on in horror it slowly twisted around to its proper position, accompanied by sickening sensations she was sure were her internal organs shifting. Tier walked over, his arm was bruised, like the werewolves and was making small clicking noises like someone cracking their knuckles. He didn't bother checking if she was okay, or even what had happened, he just knelt down beside the werewolf and examined under the fur for- "Yeah he's bruised. I take it that rod did it to all three of us?" she said still slightly dazed. Tier looked up. "Yeah. Didn't think I'd see one of these again. Cookie cutter, the wizards used to use 'em."

The wizards? Micelle tried to remember, "Weren't they that crazy group who claim to control all magic?" Tier got up and showed her the rod. It was a perfectly smooth grey metal cylinder. "No, that was the sourcerers, but they're long gone. The wizards are a bunch of crazy wannabe's" Micelle laughed. "The sourcerers? From those old fairytales? ...you're not kidding are you?" Everyone, well, a lot of kids at least, had heard about the sourcerers, powerful people who could stop the sun setting if they wanted to. They had ruled the universe until- "The part about the prince is kind of true" interjected Tier. "But he had a few dozen planets of help, there was a lot of luck and a lot more bloodshed then the books say too." Michelle paused. He made it sound as if he'd been there, but those stories must have be centuries old "Just how old are you exactly?" she asked. Tier looked wistful "I kind've lost count, but I'm pretty sure I'll be a thousand and twenty four in a few weeks." he replied.

Michelle was stunned. An entire millennium like this? She looked at her cold dead hands and a moment of doubt passed through her mind, she crushed it. There were more important things to think about. "Well, the sooner you get introduced to this the better. Time to feed." This shocked Michelle "Feed? I though you said you needed to feed of living...?" Tier smirked "Yep, and these bodies are fresh. Not conscious, no pulse, but most of the cells are still living. It'll take a few hours for them to become inedible." Michelle waited for the shock to set in, but it didn't. Being dead seemed to dull all her emotional responses, Tier had mentioned something to do with having no adrenal glands anymore. She looked around and found what she was looking for. "If you don't mind, I'll just snack on these" she said taking a handful of Dubai berries off a small bush and popping them into her mouth. She instantly regretted it. The instant she bit down she felt sick. There was no taste, but she fell on the ground vomiting heavily bringing up the remains of an undigested breakfast two days old. A minute later she looked up a Tier's grinning face. "Like I said, living tissue, even zombies in a pinch, but say goodbye to vegetables or cooked food. If you don't think you can stomach it, here I'll take the werewolf; you can have the weirdo, just kneel down and tell me what he smells like."

Somewhat cautiously Michelle tried to discretely sniff the body. She would have been embarrassed if she'd ever bothered to be embarrassed about anything in her life. The stranger smelt like paraffin wax and mothballs. She took a deeper sniff, and then he no longer smelt of dusty attics, it smelt like life.

She awoke later. How much later was hard to tell, the sun was coming up but not yet risen. And she hadn't quite been sleeping either, images flashed across her mind, hazy and indistinct. She realized she was fervently licking something off her hand. Blood. There was no sign of the two bodies save a few small scraps of bloodied cloth. Tier was watching her reaction from a few feet away. She did a quick mental check. "Well, that was feeding was it? Okay then c'mon we've got to get to Greenthorpe ASAP." In the early morning light she could already see that the trees were thinning out and it wasn't long before the found a disused track leading to the town. Feeling somehow refreshed Michelle sprinted down the track at a speed she'd never have been able to sustain when alive. Despite the stiffness and cold she felt stronger and more in control than ever before in her life. And more determined.

She removed the 'wand' she'd picked up off the wizard and showed Tier. "You said this was a 'cookie cutter' how does it work?" It felt odd to be talking normally while running at top speed; lack of breathing was certainly an advantage. "Tier grabbed the rod and pointed it at her. This end is the one you hold; it shoots real small particles of silver that spin around real fast, near light speed. It instantly kills werewolves and most other things. Anything else, the silver bits hit the body and almost go through, when the slow down enough they explode, sending out a sonic and magical shockwave that liquidizes a portion of a body, makes it look like a bruise. When it hits skin it makes a thin red line that looks like someone took a cookie cutter to your skin. That’s what took a bite out of the back of your shirt. Michelle looked over her shoulder; sure enough there was a large circular hole in it, just below her shoulders, directly opposite the smaller hole in the front. She snatched the wand of Tier and pocketed it. The vampire would get acquainted with it soon enough.

They encountered the traveler just outside the town, on a road the track had joined half an hour earlier. He was a young red rabbit who by the looks of things was walking to the next town, or maybe to see family. Wasting no time Michelle simply ran up to him, picked him up by the shirt and asked him where Greenthorpe Mansion was. Terrified and confused he nevertheless managed to stutter a reply. "The vampire house? Wh-why do you want to go there? Its easy to find, just off Old Main street, real old run down big building!" Walking calmly over Tier put a hand on the young rabbits shoulder. "So sorry about my friend here, family troubles you see. Do put him down won't you? Good. Now sir, I suggest you continue what you were doing, as I have no doubt you will, its just that less logical people might do something unproductive like sneak back to town and say two zombies or something were heading in. That could cause a lot of unnecessary panic, and in such situations it wouldn't be surprising if that person or their friends and family found themselves at a disadvantage. Proceed."

Tier smirked as the figure ran into the distance, almost he realized, as fast as Michelle was speeding in the opposite direction. Nevertheless it was midmorning by the time the approached the mansion, which was every bit as decrepit as Tier had expected. After you'd hidden out in a few abandoned building they all started to look the same. Michelle didn't seem to want to take in the view; she simply vaulted the fence and ran inside. There were several people outside, one of whom yelled something at Tier. From inside the mansion there was the sound of breaking glass and more yelling. For a second Tier considered just walking away and leaving, it wouldn't be that hard, lord knows he'd screwed things up enough already. But then, what had he got lose? Attempting to sigh melodramatically Tier walked slowly up the footpath and into the mansions front door.

There was a knocking at the back door. Tom opened it to reveal a rain-sodden Louie with a body hoisted over his shoulder.
"What on Carrotus... who is that?"
"Some kind of undead hunter, judging by the equipment he was carrying."
"But..." Tom was lost for words.
"Look, can I come in? It's pouring out here."
"Come on. You'd better take him up to my room." Tom stood back as Louie entered. He barely avoided hitting his burden's head off the top of the door frame. He carried Alexander Garand upstairs and laid him out on Tom and Susan's bed.
"Why did you bring him here?"
"I couldn't leave him out there. The werewolves that were after him never leave the woods, but other things do."
"Werewolves?"
"Yes, there were a pack of them after him."
That's not what Tom had meant. It was only a few days ago that he'd been forced to accept the existence of vampires. Now he had werewolves to deal with.

Tom stuck his head through the hatchway in the attic floor. "That's the video done. I even got Louie to hold up today's newspaper to prove it was made today."
Susan had just finished putting a bed sheet over an old, worn mattress. With Garand in their room, Majo in the spare room, and Tony on the sofa, they had no choice but to sleep in the attic. Louie slept on the bare floor. They'd offered him the mattress, but he'd insisted their need was greater than his.
"Thomas," said Susan.
"What's wrong, dear?" he replied. She hardly ever called him Thomas.
"What's about to happen." She paused. Tom gave her an inquisitive look. "It's exactly why we left Earian."
"That was different."
"Different?" Her voice raised slightly as she continued, "of course it was different. There were no refugees, after all."
"There must have been some refugees. Remember that business with the Autonomous Lizard's Republic?"
"That doesn't count," replied Susan, again a little louder. "That didn't make any real refugees."
"As I recall, the hotel manager got his arm broken," said Tom, a little apprehensively.
"Can we forget about the hotel for a second?" snapped Susan.
"Sorry. Tell you what, as soon as we get the mansion sorted out, we'll take a holiday. We could go to Thernon to see your brother perform. He's wanted you to visit him ever since he got into the Royal Opera's orchestra."
"That's just it. I can't leave. You think with hundreds of refugees arriving, they're going to let a surgeon take a holiday? And even if they did, you think I'd leave?"

"Thank you, dear," said Hilda, stiffly. Hilda took a sip of the tea she had just been handed.
"My pleasure, grandmother," replied Gary. He closed his briefcase. "I can't thank you enough."
"Nonsense. Anything to see the family name back in charge of Peddleburg. Every penny of that must go to your campaign, mind. I expect to see receipts. Now zip up the mattress, there's a good boy." Parker obeyed, making sure none of the banknotes fell out onto the floor. He would never understand why his grandmother flatly refused to open a bank account. Just as well, though. He'd be back for the rest some other time. Hilda looked over her visitor. A self-centred, devious little brat. But he'd make a good governor. And who knows, maybe he'd stop asking her for money. He had no excuse for it, not with his inheritance. She took another large sip. This was very invigorating tea. Her heart hadn't been this active in years.
"There we go. Now I'm afraid I'll have to leave you, grandmother dear."
"Oh, what a pity," she lied. "Goodbye. Don't forget to call again soon."
"I won't. I'm sure I'll see you again very soon. Goodbye."
"Goodbye," said Hilda as he closed the door behind him. Her heart was positively racing now. Out in the hall, Gary met Hilda's maid.
"Poor girl," he thought, "she'll be out of a job soon. I simply must offer her an interview."
He wished her a good day and left.

"He's waking up!" called Majo. She was sitting by Alexander's bedside. Alexander cursed inwardly. He would have liked to have assessed his surroundings before anyone realised he was awake. Not only that, but his face felt like it had been hit by a train. He opened his eyes. It was immediately obvious that he hadn't been taken back to the Greenthorpe mansion.
"Where am I?"
"The Bradhurst residence, Greenthorpe," replied Majo. Tom and Susan entered the room.
"Who are you?" he asked. As they introduced themselves, Louie arrived.
"What do you want with me?" asked Alexander.
"We want to know why you were hunting Mr. Greenthorpe, here," said Susan. He considered this. He didn't know why they had no problem with the vampire. They were clearly in on the Masquerade, and they must have realised he was with Schism or a similar organisation.
"An incident a few days ago. A squad of marines and a TV crew were slaughtered by the present occupier of Mr. Greenthorpe's home. Which I am assuming is Mr. Greenthorpe."
"I moved out several days ago," said Louie. "The guy who killed those people is someone else. But you needn't worry about him."
"Oh?"
"He had a nasty accident involving a piano. Lost his head, you see."
"Ah. Would this 'accident' have involved you in any way?"
"Might have."
"Luckily for you, you can take the Masquerade Law into your own hands. After all, Schism can't police the entire planet."
"Schism? Never heard of it."
"But it's heard of you, and that's what's important."
"Schism. A very unofficial Carrotus government department that preserves the Masquerade," said Tom, recalling his studies.
"Yes," said Alexander.
"So good at what it does, I didn't even believe it existed until now."
"What is this 'Masquerade'?" asked Majo. Alexander swore under his breath. They weren't all in on the Masquerade after all. Well, they were now.
"It's what keeps the world ignorant to the presence of things like vampires and werewolves," replied Tom.
"And whatever moral quibbles you may have about it, it's vital that people stay ignorant," said Alexander. "You're all going to have to take the Oath of Secrecy. And then I'd like to confirm the elimination of the guy who brought me out here."

A few hours later, Alexander, Louie, Majo, Tony and Susan were in the morning room of Louie's mansion. They'd just finished burying Theodore Thatcher and were attempting to clean up the remaining evidence of the fight. Tom had gone to deliver the video of Louie to Councillor Dalton. It had taken some time to convince Alexander that Greenthorpe had a masquerade of its own, and that Dalton could be trusted to be discreet.
"It's no good, there's nothing we can do about the bloodstains," exclaimed Susan.
"Don't worry about it," said Alexander. "As long as the body's gone, we can claim anything else has been there for years." There was a noise from the hallway, and a few moments later Tom entered, followed by Dalton.
"Ah. Hello," said the latter.
"You must be Dalton," said Alexander.
"And you must be Mr. Garand."
"Have you called off the demolition order on this place?"
"Yes."
"Can't say I approve. A demolition would be the best way to clean up what's happened here. But hey, demolishing a building this size when hundreds of refugees are about to stream into the area would probably look suspicious."
"I'm not the most house-proud person, but it's going to need a hell of a clean," said Louie.
"A few trusted councillors are on their way to help out," said Dalton. "They'll be here any minute, so if any of you want to make yourselves scarce, now would be the time."
"I'd better make a move," said Louie. "I'm not the most popular guy in Greenthorpe."
"That's not necessary. They'd like to make amends for assuming the worst about you all these years."
That moment, they heard some yelling outside. A second later, a zombie crashed through the morning room doors, tearing them off their hinges and smashing most of their glass.
"Alright. Where's the vampire?" it snarled. There was a stunned silence. Michelle grew impatient. "Answer me, or you all die!" She was in an impatient mood, and she could feel the Hunger rising.
"Which vampire?" asked Louie.
"The one who killed my brother!"
"Was your brother part of a TV crew?"
"No! Wait. He was with a TV crew."
"A marine then?"
"Yes. Now where's the vampire?" she shouted.
"He's dead."
"What?"
"Dead. The grave's just out there, if you want to take a look."
Michelle walked over to one of the tall, mucky windows, and wiped away enough of the grime to see a freshly dug grave just outside.
"That proves nothing."
"What other proof can we possibly offer you?"
She pondered this, then hurled herself through the window. She dug into the grave, throwing up mud and stones until at last she reached the coffin. She couldn't open it as she hadn't shifted enough earth, so instead she rammed her arm through the lid and pulled out Theodore's severed head. She looked up. Alexander was leaning out of the window, looking down at her.
"Satisfied?" he asked.
"Yes. That's him." She dropped the head back into the coffin and climbed out of the grave. Her brother's death had been avenged, and she hadn't even been there to see it, let alone take part in it. She knelt down and cried.
"Just a few days ago my life was perfectly normal. Then this *er killed my brother." She sobbed in silence for a minute or two. Alexander climbed out into the garden and put his arm round her. It had been a long time since he'd had to comfort anybody.
"There, shh. It's all over now."
"All over? I'm a *ing zombie. A zombie! All because I didn't trust anyone else to sort out my problems. All because I'm too impulsive."
"Don't start blaming yourself. We all do strange things when we're upset or angry."
"Nice words. But they're not going to cure me, are they? I'm dead now. Last time I checked, there was no cure for death. Well, none that would improve my situation."
Back in the mansion, Tom sighed. Vampires, werewolves, zombies. He'd have to dig out his old textbooks to find out what else was out there. And what about Diamondus? What kind of creatures were on their way from Diamondus?



(Short, but uni has just restarted and I'm pressed for time. If I've taken unwelcome liberties with anyone's characters, do say so.)

You don't have a right to call that short. Just look at my chapter D=

And my tenth page!