Bloodbath

ONE

In the pitch black, an old withered man fumbled his way around his room. After a few moments of clumsily rummaging around in the darkness, he finally was able to climb into his bed. As soon as he felt he was going to sleep, he heard a soft THUMP! Oh no, he thought to himself, it's happening again. After months of endless beating and restless sleep, he could not bare to listen to the THUMP! night after night after night...

Then he heard it. A soft footstep, followed by a soft creak. The old man started to sweat. It's just the house; he reassured himself, just some kind of mice or rodent. He knew that was a lie. He had had the house checked for pests. There where none. He was so caught up in his thoughts he had not noticed how quiet the house had become. It was unnaturally silent, so much in fact that the old man could hear his own heart beat.

THUMP! THUMP! His heart raced faster and faster. THUMP! THUMP! A terrifying thought grabbed hold of his mind. His heart beat sounded very much like the continual pounding, of what seemed to be an eternity. THUMP! THUMP! Was he going insane? THUMP! THUMP! Just call the authorities, he attempted to calm himself, they'd know what was going on. Slowly, he made his way out of his bed, and without grace, placed his trembling feet on the cold, wooden floor. Immediately, the darkness gnawed at his heels and consumed his legs. With great caution, he made his way to the door. The hinges scram as he nudged the door open. THUMP! THUMP!

He floundered down the stairs, the blackness growing thicker like a dense fog. His feet finally landed on the first floor, after what seemed to be an eternity. He crept to the kitchen and picked up the phone. He heard nothing. A chill ran up and down his spine. He turned around only to find the outline of a man standing in the darkness. The old man froze.

"Doctor", it said in a low voice," it's your turn".

The old man sighed, "Yes, I suppose it's come to this now. Would it be too much to ask, in your favor, if we could talk first? There are questions I can answer for you".

The shadow sat down at the end of the dark oak table. The old man sat across from him. Silence settled amongst the two men. The old man could hear the shadow's breath, heavy and wheezing. His thoughts were interrupted by the shadow's voice.

"Why doc," he asked coldly," Why did you do it?"

*

"Science", the doctor stammered, "I'm not proud, but if we were to have a chance..."

"For SCIENCE you ruined innocent lives?" the man seethed," how can you put a price on life?"

The old man felt the room grow colder, making it difficult for him to breathe. His thoughts where fused together. The mans voice broke his pondering like a hammer on glass.

"You know you can not duplicate us," he stated," It is...a gift, a disease, a curse."

The old man heard a quick ''swish'' and felt a slight bump on his chest a split second later. From the dark, he saw no adherent design. A plain black mask. The only feature of this mask was an eyehole. One eyehole. He peered at the man and saw his entire face was wrapped in a black cloth. Only his left eye was left open, and it was pure white, like ivory, with no sign of a pupil or iris whatsoever.

"Six years in that mask", the man said," do you know how lonely it can get? Even without your tests, your cruel experiments, it was hard to assimilate myself to my peer's standards. All you did was thrown large amounts of coal onto the ever-burning fire." The man took the mask from the doctor's hands and with a loud SNAP placed it back on his face.

It got unnaturally quiet again. THUMP! THUMP! The old doctor heard his heart racing in his chest. His limps became heavy and took effort just to look up. The man got up and walked around the table. He starred at the aged doctor. With great will, the doctor gazed into the man's eye, and found himself in excruciating pain.

"Wait!" he exclaimed. He slowly got up and staggered to the counter and picked up a card the size of a note card," You'll find your answered here".

The man slowly nodded. He slid the card into his pocket, replacing the knife he drew out. With one fast thrust, he pushed the blade through the doctor's chest. The doctor, choking on his own blood, collapsed on the hardwood floor accompanied by and audible THUMP! A pool of blood escaped from his body, forming a silhouette around his lifeless body.

As if he had done nothing wrong, the man sighed and continued to clean of his blade from the tainted innocence of an aging man's blood.

With stealth and skill, the nameless man bent down with a vial that he had withdrawn from his pocket and slowly filled it with the blood of the doctor. Breaking the thick silence, the phone shrieked with no prevails. Startling the man, he answered it with great precaution.

"Hello?"

"Hey babe!" answered a woman's voice," Watcha been up to today?"

"Well, I was so bored, I could have killed someone," he chuckled, "how was your day?"

"It was great," her voice replied," do we still have our date plans for Saturday?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said. He heard a beep and looked at his phone. Another caller, a more important one," hey, can I give you a call back later? Boss is calling me".

The woman sighed," Alright, I'll talk to you later".

"Bye and he hung up, and then quickly called the anonymous man back, "Yes sir?"

"Did you get it?" a low man's voice said.

"Sir!"

"Good", he slowly sighed, with a sense of gluttony in his voice," Only eight more days". The man hung up. The masked man put his phone in his pocket and walked out the door.

TWO

Sirens wailed outside 667 Windthorne Lane. Policemen, forensics, and investigators flooded the house and property of Dr. McMilhan like ants to a sugar cube. Reporters where held off at the police line, as only certain personnel where allowed on the premises.

A woman barged through the barricade, giving a quick flash of her badge, and quickly walked towards an older man wearing a grey trench coat, a Cleveland Indian's Ball cap, and scribbling on a clipboard furiously. He glanced at the woman striding towards him.

"So nice of you to join us Officer Duncan," he declared," What's forensics got for us?"

"As much as you got," she sighed," we got nothing. No fingerprints, DNA of any sort, blood samples are all the doctors, there is literally nothing!"

"This has been our ninetieth kill in the past thirteen weeks!" he exclaimed, turning red," AND he shows NO sign of stopping! This killer has the city in a vice grip!"

"To make matters worse, there is no correlation to any of the victims. Old, young, adults, children, black, white, he seems to have no....preference."

"I'll show you preference when I get all your forensic assess fired! Get me some damned evidence!" he bellowed and stormed off.

Duncan sighed, what is going on here? She picked up her cell phone and dialed a number, walking away from the house.

*

THREE

As the rain continued its ceaseless beating on the colossal buildings, a figured sprinted though the shadows, concealed by the violent storm. Each quickening steps titanic crash muted by the constant thunder. Approaching two building up ahead, he effortlessly bounded off each wall in a matter of seconds. Finding his destination, he smirked and crashed through the window head first. Landing on his feet, the apartment became a swamp from the endless downpour of rain. A flash of lighting eerily lit up the room, exposing the figure completely. The man loomed over the apartment as if its walls were too small to accommodate his stature. Tactical camouflage cargos draped over his steel toed boots, and his black mesh shirt was laced between urban armor, covered in magazine clips and storage units. In his right holster around his thigh, a K6B issued Desert Eagle with a red rust finish sat in place. Two customized Five-Sevens were in his back holsters. Sheathed on his back was a satanic katana. With a sadistic grin, he ripped apart the apartment. When he was done with his frenzy, he took out neon chalk and wrote the words "JUST LIKE OLD TIMES, COMRADE." With that, he leapt out of the window

A moment later, the man in the mask made his way into the apartment. He stopped dead in his tracks, and dropped his keys in awe.

Suddenly, the man gasped in pain and clutched his head. No...not again! he screamed in his head. He trashed his head violently from side to side, his knuckled bleaching from gripping his head. No! NO! NO!

He let out a yell," Get out of my head!" he collapsed on the floor, with the rain beating on his back. Thunder rolled in a rhythmic pattern that seemed to mock the man. Against his will, the man sucame to his nightmares.

*

FOUR

The man awoke with a scream. Panting heavily, he glanced across the room, ravaged and torn apart, seeming to have been ripped apart by a ragged tiger. The rain ceased, but his apartment was dripping. He trembled as he stood up, stumbling to his broken window and let out a heavy hearted sigh.

He made his way across his bog to his cabinet and tugged open its large, mahogany doors. He slung an ammo belt around his shoulder and loaded all available slots. On his left thigh, he strapped on a sidearm holster, and in which he slid his Custom Deagle, double vertical barrel with a gloss black finish. The opposite leg held a tanto, also with a black finish, strapped on with just a few pieces of leather and buckles. Quickly grabbing his m24 carbine, slinging it over his other shoulder, he started making his way to his door.

His phone let out a shrilling cry. Dashing for the phone, he answered.

"Hello?"

"Razi! You never called me back!" a female voice squeaked.

"I'm sorry," he innocently replied," I kind of passed out."

"Aw hun, if you where here I'd give you a kiss," she sympathized." They both laughed," What are you doing today?"

"I just have..." he paused," work to do."

"Oh, ok," she said," do you need to go?"

"Only if you let me," he chuckled. He heard a giggle followed by a groan.

"Well then, you better call me when you're done working," she taunted.

"Alright Amber," Razi replied," talk to you later."

"Bye!" Amber said.

He slammed his phone in his pocket and raced out the door. He made it to the street and stopped. A thick fog enveloped the town like a large quilt. Razi closed his eye and took a sharp breath. Through the fog, he could trace scents of chalk scattered as far as he could tell.

All of a sudden, he felt a bump on his back. Razi swirled around, knocking over the figure. He drew his gun on it and cocked it, ready to defend himself. A woman was sprawled on the ground looking shocked, her newly shattered phone laying just feet away from her.

"Oh, I'm so sorry ma'am," Razi blurted, embarrassed. He put his Deagle away and helped the woman up," please excuse me for my...carelessness."

"No, it's my fault," she stammered, still shaken," I wasn't watching where I was walking."

Razi was able to get a full look at her. She had long, dark auburn hair with a pair of the brightest green eyes he had ever seen. They had remains of tears and trembled, still scarred. She was also shaking, her long legs trembling together like a newborn dawn's. She was, as Razi could tell, just a few inches shorter then he. Her aura was a mix of the most aesthetic colors imaginable, from what Razi could tell. Then, he sensed it.

"Is everything alright?" the woman asked.

"Aw not now," Razi grumbled," Move!"

He pushed the woman down and jumped in the air, bringing a dark figure down with him. The woman gasped. A creature growled and snarled as Razi pushed him down by its throat.

"What do you want?" Razi asked coolly.

The creature pointed at the woman and mumbled "Senorita!" The creature was a tall, lanky demon with teeth that resembled knives. His small, round shaped head housed three eyes, two like regular human's eyes, and a third in the middle of his forehead that was closed. His eyes where blood red, like his ghoulish tongue that lashed about his teeth. This thing also was oozing a black tar, pouring from his black, scaly body. Sprouting form his shoulders where two large bat like wings. He spoke with a thick Spanish accent.

"Why her?" Razi ridiculed," I thought you demon only feasted on whores."

The demon hissed and surged towards Razi, attempting to break free from his grip. Razi lazily took out his Deagle and placed it on the demons middle eye. The demon yelped.

"No senor," it whimpered," No shoot Kale. Kale leaves senorita alone, yes?"

"I could care less about that," Razi growled," but, you are going to help me."

Kale looked puzzled," Si?"

Razi took out the badge that the doctor had given him and showed it to the demon," You are going to take me here."

The demon let out a perverted giggle," The Laboratories you wish to go?"

"I'm not kidding you little sprite," Razi glared.

"Si senor, I take you," Kale bargained, still grinning," If I may dine on another puta!"

Razi took out his tanto," When you take me," he said and carved a symbol into the demons skin. Kale winced at first, then let out and ear shattering scream. The woman shook with fright, frozen after watching the dispute between this demon and this stranger. Razi turned to her.

"You are safe to go now," he said softly," Light be with you, miss."

She nodded and spurted away into the thick fog.

"Bound to you, as dog is to master," Kale sniveled

"Oh yes," Razi leered," I wasn't too sure how well silvered water would have worked."

Kale's eyes grew big as Razi strolled away. He felt a pull on him, and invisible one, like a chain around his soul. Rubbing his mark and murmuring in Spanish, he flew after Razi.

*

FIVE

An abandoned warehouse, only tonight, it was not so abandoned. THUMP! THUMP! The constant beating of hardcore raving music with bright lights attracted many people, particularly younger ones. Some danced, some where spray painting, and almost everyone was seducing.

A truck pulled up and parked, releasing two teenagers onto the gravel. THUMP! THUMP! The driver rushed over to the passenger and grabbed her hand.

"Let go!" he excitedly slurred. She giggled and nodded, as they turned to warehouse. Then, a figure appeared in front of them.

"Hey buddy, would you mind moving?" the boy asked.

The figure smirked and pulled out a M3 shotgun and pointed it at the boy. The girl screamed as he pumped it. A shot rang out as the shotgun bullets tore at the boy's skull, lacerating it to the extremities, staining the once innocent land in a crimson haze. The girl shrieked louder and attempted to run away. The figured once again raised the gun and fired. The bullets flew towards the girl, as if attracted to her. They ripped open her torso, leaving holes big enough to see through. Her body fell to the ground with such force that her face was mutilated by the rocks. THUMP! THUMP!

The man took out two jars and filled them with the blood gushing from the desecrated bodies. He reloaded his gun and casually walked in the direction of the warehouse. The wind kicked up and blew the figures trench coat, exposing him. The man was dressed in a mesh shirt and cargo pants, with boots made of iron. Magazine and storage units had shotgun bullets stationed in each holder. He wore a badge that had written "SOP Colonel Samael Mort", somewhat faded by time. A grin spread across his face like the scar on his right cheek.

He made it to the warehouse doors and, as if by serendipity, and sauntered inside. The loud music concealed the screams and shots of what happened inside. THUMP! THUMP! Shots rang out for fifteen minutes. THUMP! THUMP! The doors and base of the warehouse trickled with blood. THUMP! THUMP! The music continued its senseless beating. THUMP! THUMP! The man emerged, smiling, and walked off into the night, leaving the warehouse with its music, lights, and blood for the next person to show up. THUMP! THUMP!

*

SIX

A boy, about fifteen years of age, was chasing a girl across a field of tall, golden grass. The girl was about his age, with black hair that fell to her shoulders. Her olive colored skin shone brightly in the summer sun. She giggled as she ran away from the boy.

"Sam, stop!" she exclaimed between giggles.

"Not until you're mine," the boy coaxed and laughed. He was getting closer, and the closer he got the more the girl squealed.

"No fair!" she declared. The boy was right behind her now and wrapped his arms around her. He brought her to the ground, him landing first with her following with a THUMP! on his chest. Her silvery eyes sparkled and gazed at him.

"How so?" the boy taunted.

She giggled and pouted," Because you're SO fast Sam!" He smiled and laughed at her remark. He looked at her face, with high cheekbones and very fair skin. Her smile was the brightest white he had ever seen, with perfectly fitted teeth. She seemed to be his Egyptian Princess.

"You're so beautiful," he finally stated after a long silence, with only the wind whistling amongst the two teenagers.

She blushed," I'm not that pretty."

"Rosalina, stop. You know you're pretty. Stop saying you aren't, or else."

"Or else what?" she replied innocently.

He wrapped his arms tighter around her waist and calmly said," or else I'll make you be quiet."

"How are you..." she began, but the boy leaned forward and kisses her. She kissed him back. They lay in the middle of the golden grass while minutes after minutes passed, until they finally drifted off, dreaming of each other. The grass gradually became less gold and more black, until finally it shone with a glint of silver slivers. Sam slowly woke up, rubbed his eyes, and shook Rosalina awake. Sam got up, and helped Rosalina up, smiling.

"We fell asleep again, didn't we?" she asked.

"Yeah, but I'll walk you home." Sam said. He grabbed her hand and headed towards the woods. The dark abyss seemed to be an invitation to the worst nightmares imaginable. As they entered the forest, Rosalina became uneasy, and Sam had to consistently reassure her it was going to be alright. He helped her over various obstacles until he saw the path that would lead out.

"Nearly there," Sam said happily. Rosalina sighed in relief. A faint sound the captured Sam's ear like an arrow driven into his temple.

"What's wrong?" Rosalina started to say, but Sam silenced her with his hand.

"Don't talk, ok?" he quickly whispered. He crouched, and motioned for Rosalina to do the same. He quickly looked around, and then caught a faint silver glimmer followed by an almost inaudible THUMP! Then, unexpectedly, a man stepped out from behind the tree Sam had been spying on, and walked towards the two teenagers.

"What do you want?" Sam asked, trying to sound as brave as possible. Rosa whimpered.

"You," the figure said, in a deep, booming voice. Sam heard a soft crunch come from somewhere behind him, but he ignored it and focused on the man.

"What for?"

"Surveillance Operative." The man boomed again.

Sam slowly moved his hand to his pocked and grabbed his knife his father had given him, and remembered his voice," Use only in emergencies, son."

"Why?"

"Because you're talent is unimaginable at you're age," the man, his voice shattering the peacefulness of the forest," You will be coming with us."

Sam spoke," What if I refuse?"

The man laughed a deep sadistic laugh. There was a scatter of leaves as a shadow swooped behind Rosalina, picked her up, and stood next to his accomplice. The figure pulled out a gun and cocked it, pointing it to her head.

"NO!" Sam shouted, but it was too late. The figure pulled the trigger, blowing a hole through the girl's skull. Traces of blood flew in the air and landed, as if the forest where making fun of him, on Sam's face. His mouth was ajar as they dropped Rosalina's body with a loud THUMP!