LLA

Strictly SFW, Nonsexual, Safe vore only blog! Minors please don't interact. Adult, Asexual, Any pronouns. Old hand writer with that dinosaur brand of autism. Been doing this a loong time. I write safe, m/m vore content with a focus on plot driving the noms. Often too much plot. "Come for the vore, stay for the plot." That's my motto. There's plenty of OC as well as fan stuff to be found in my library so I hope you find something you like. I work an intensive job on extremely long hours, so replies might be slow. Please be patient with me. I am very tired. If you want to find my writing on sites where i can actually post it, please see whichever of the below you prefer! (DA is the only one with everything. WattPad has my OC novels, AO3 only some of my fanfics but I am working on getting all my fanfic stuff on there. Even the 'lost stuff' pulled years ago.) My DA! My WattPad My AO3 My FA Ko-Fi! Patreon!

[llaberration]

All stories Masterlist masterlist!

After discovering I can only pin one post (dumb) I have concluded I need to make a masterlist for my masterlists to pin so that people can pick a story and access a master list of their choice! (why is this neccesary I should just be able to pin a couple posts)

Everything I write is soft, safe, sfw, nonsexual, male vore, so that's what to expect here :)

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Coyne's Chronicles - A Shadow over Yfiria:

We find ourselves looking over the beautiful, mountainous continent of Yfiria. Home to man, monster and fae alike.

The land has been torn by war, the hatred of man, and a terrible plague of decay that has stemmed from the suffering and darkness that this has caused. The people that remain now live in fear of those that are seized by the aggressive infection, which takes anything alive that it can, turning them into vessels to spread itself further, rotting their bodies and driving them until they crumble into dust.

Living in avoidance of the plague, we cross the path of Coyne. A man and a monster, but belonging to the alignment of neither, who will find himself drawn into things far beyond his understanding after spending the longest time trying to go out of his way to avoid them.

[A tale of dragons, men and monsters, full of adventure and sacrifice with vore undertones. (Soft, safe vore, m/m vore) While the focus is on the plot, there is vore, so if you don't like vore, there's a good chance you won't like this.]

If you'd like to read this, here's a link to the masterlist.

|| Masterlist ||

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

I.S.M.I

Following an incursion from an aggressively invasive oceanic predator, the world has come to realise that monsters and the paranormal may actually be very real.

We join a small group of investigators working with the ISMI, a newly formed institute in charge of overseeing, containing and potentially neutralising these new threats that had previously gone unseen.

[A vore story with way too much plot, filled with horror and fantasy elements. (Soft, safe m/m vore)]

If this sounds interesting to you, please check out the masterlist!

|| Masterlist ||

[llaberration]

I.S.M.I - Chapter Thirty Six.

WARNING.

This one gets a bit graphic folks, there's scenes of torture that you should definitely be aware of before you go in. It's pretty serious bodily harm, so please go into this with that in mind.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Brother. It's time you stop pretending.”

“I-ewan?”

“Alas, no. Your family is larger now than you realise. But you cannot know us. Not until you stop pretending to be something you no longer are. Let go of your humanity.”

“No. I'm still human. I never stopped being human.”

“You were human. And that will always be a part of you. You do not have to let go of who you were in order to become something new. If you do not do it now, you might never get the chance, because you will need the strength only acceptance can bring.”

“I don't understand... who are you...”

…

…

…

“What are you mumbling about?”

Hal groaned a bit as he started to become more aware. His back and shoulders ached bitterly, his chest felt tight and his breaths were coming in awkward half-inhales, his lungs refusing to fill all the way.

The biologist took stock of himself. He was disorientated but definitely upright, which was a good start. He opened one eye cautiously and looked up to find out what was going on with his arms. They were bound at the wrists by some kind of metal shackles, very thick, very tough looking, and held up with chains. “What the...?” he asked, glancing around a little awkwardly, trying to see Lance, or the rest of his surroundings, but his vision was restricted by his arm position. At some point, he noted, his shirt and jacket had also been taken. Where they were was something of a concern because his contingency plan was in his jacket, but he'd have to get free before that might be of any use to him.

“Well, for a little bit there we sure thought you might be dead!” the voice in front of him was cheerful, and Hal blinked, lowering his gaze to stare into the silvery eyes of one of the hatmen, standing before him on ground level. He was suspended about two feet from a dirty looking tile floor in a large, square chamber probably eight metres each way, including up, making it an almost surreal, echoing space. The place was lit with a harsh oblong of light on each of the walls, and furnished only with a metallic table that contained an assortment of unpleasant looking tools. “It's good that you're not, after all this, my fellows would be agitated if you died now.” It was the hatman with the oversized bowler hat, which Hal was now able to see in far more detail. It did have the look of a hat, but he was realising now that it wasn't made of quite the right materials, it was thicker, harsher cloth. It had clearly had been engineered with openings for eyes, and a more flexible area at the rim that could move with the mouth, or mouth-like structure beneath it. It was held up by a neck so thin that it seemed twig-like in comparison. So much so that the head seemed to loll to the side almost constantly, forcing the body holding it to compensate for that movement all the time by forcing itself back upright again.

“I... suppose this is the torture dungeon?” asked Hal, grunting as he testingly tugged against his arms, seeing what strength they had left in them, but he discovered, to his displeasure, that his legs were secured as well, so he couldn't actually get any slack in either direction. “Unoriginal.”

“We like to think of it as a preparation room,” replied the bowler hat, a nasty grin showing off a strange assortment of mouth parts. Now he was up close, he could see through the mouth-hole in the hat, and was able to identify a more insectoid look to what he could see, chelicerae, spiky grasping pieces, no teeth. “And we have a messy piece of work to do,” the creature reached up with a skinny, pale skinned hand and gently brushed Hal's stomach with dirty, uncut fingernails. Hal felt Deacon shift fearfully. He'd been settled like a tiny lump of lead this entire time, perhaps trying to pass unnoticed, but clearly, these fellows knew exactly where he was.

Hal tried to withdraw from the touch, but his bindings held him firm. “Hey, hands off.”

The hatman let out an amused little chuckle and went to the table, taking his time to select a tool as Hal tried to reach for his powers, his increased strength, to try and break free, but the chains and cuffs suddenly outlined with a blackness, the opposite of a glow, and he felt his strength actively sucked out of him. They were magical... and clearly designed to restrain, possibly even draw out his energy.

“We don't know exactly what you are,” said the hatman as he lifted an unpleasant looking, partially hooked blade, and approached Hal with it. “But we're fairly confident you can survive this. After all, we don't want, or need a body with an unwanted tenant. If there was a less invasive way to do this I assure you we would... the last thing we want to do is damage your body but... he's not going to come out any other way, is he?”

Hal shivered, tugging at the cuffs again, reaching for his abilities, feeling his power sucked away when he made contact with it.

“If you're trying to use some kind of ability it won't work, these are designed to restrain more dangerous things than you.” He ran his fingers over Hal's stomach once more, and then without ceremony, jammed the curved blade in right below the bulge.

Hal let out an involuntary bellow of pain at this, the chains rattling as he tugged against them.

The hatman smiled a nasty smile, a smile that made it clear he was not inexperienced doing this, and in fact, was pretty alright with that, and slowly, slowly drew the blade along in a line. The sensation of the flesh, already pulled tight from Hal's position, splitting apart, pierced into Hal's consciousness in a way he had never experienced. Pain normally came fast and hard but this was slow, methodical, and the grinning face never stopped looking directly into his.

Hal felt a cold tightness at the base of his ribs as the blade was drawn out, and harsh, dirty fingers were pressed into the wound, hunting around for something inside. He could feel Deacon moving, panicking, and as the blade flashed forwards again, piercing something deeper. The tiny man lunged upwards, trying to burrow up into his throat for safety, but the strong hands were quick, and with a wet, sucking sensation that made Hal gag, his precious companion was pulled from the wound.

Hal let out a cry at seeing this, fear and anger trilling through him, clouding his logical mind as his blood splattered onto the floor.

“There we go, unwanted lodger all gone,” the hatman raised Deacon to look closely at him, and Hal saw the blood soaked little man was shouting and fighting, kicking for all his little body had in it.

“No... you can't...”

“Don't worry we're probably going to let him go. He's normal and boring anyway and we have strict orders to stop wasting time on regular bodies since they're clearly no good.” He went back to the table and dumped Deacon in a glass bowl unceremoniously, wiping his bloody hands on his suit with apparent lack of care for cleanliness as he began to rummage around for another tool.

Hal could just see what was going on, still struggling against his bonds and the waves of pain surging through him as stomach acid burned at the edges of his wound and began to spill onto other, sensitive organs in his body.

Deacon, sliding around in the bloody bowl, got himself upright and leapt for the side, pulling himself out and making for escape. The hatman caught him and shoved him back in the bowl. “Ugh. Look. Here,” he grabbed Deacon, holding him tightly. “I'll give you back your size,” he snapped his fingers, and bright little ball of yellow light glowed between them. “Take it. It'll fix you, then you can go. Walk right out. Nobody will stop you. We're not interested in normals any more. We have orders.”

Deacon's face was lit by the light, and he stopped struggling for a moment, looking over at Hal and the blood spilling from his gaping wound.

“Don't worry about him. You're only getting one chance at this, and only because I have things to do. Just take it. It's the key to your freedom. This will fix your size... and all you have to do is to take it and walk away while we get your friend. It's a good deal for you. Nothing to lose really. All I want from you is to go away.”

Hal raised his head a little, fixing the hatman with a cold stare, a little voice spoke up in his ear, and he was sure he could feel a whisp of breath on his neck as it spoke. “Accept what you are. Stop fighting. They're not prepared for you. Not like they think they are... just embrace the new you. Become Slaaneth...”

As Hal watched, Deacon reached out and took the tiny orb of magic, but his expression was not one of relief, and Hal already knew exactly what the little idiot was thinking as he watched.

In a flash of light, Deacon was suddenly full sized, still covered in blood and on the floor.

“Good. Now get out.” Snapped the hatman.

Deacon did not, in fact, get out. And it was clear he had never had any intention of it as he immediately lunged for their aggressor, arms out to grab it around the neck, powerful hands from years of training gripping the fragile piece of anatomy.

The hatman was caught off guard for only a moment before starting to laugh, chokily, but laughter nonetheless. “Oh I just knew you'd be a strong one. Stupid. But strong...” he snapped his fingers again, and suddenly Deacon was no longer at his full size. He was in fact, very small once more.

The hatman, cackling to himself, bent down and snatched up the tiny body, his work on Hal apparently forgotten as he squeezed the small man then threw him on the table. “I'm actually glad you chose thing... it'll make my afternoon so much more interesting... it's not breaking orders if it's in self defence...” he reached out and grabbed the curved knife once more, bringing it close to the tiny body and running the tip of it along the chest as his other hand held Deacon pinned down and helpless.

“You'd better hurry up. No illusion of humanity in the world could possibly be worth your friend's life.”

Hal felt all of his concern for himself leave him as he watched the blade dig down on Deacon's leg. Time slowed, his body suddenly felt so heavy, so weak and so human. It felt suddenly claustrophobic to try and force himself to remain that way for no real reason. His body didn't matter anyway, he could fix it... but Blaine's was fragile and precious.

Suddenly letting go of his fear that someone might find out what he was, Hal let out a pained cry as he reached out to embrace the other self, the one he'd been holding off, ignoring this entire tiem by insisting to remain human.

A pale blue light suddenly blazed from his body, bright patterns and lines flowing across his skin. His eyes lit up with a hollow blue glow from the pupils and whites, and even the roots of his hair began to shine with this inner light. Finally Hal accepted his status, and Slaaneth drew breath through him for the first time.

As Hal felt the powers of the god come forwards properly, the patterns on his skin began to glow brighter, and he forced his pain to the back of his mind and focused himself, feeling at his other forms, feeling that the 'inbetween' one was different now. He had not taken on any more creatures to add to it but somehow, it had stopped taking into account his humanity holding it back. This 'true' self had blossomed with his acceptance, and he reached for it, feeling the change take hold.

The biologist felt his body rapidly changing. His hands slipped free of the cuffs, not designed to hold slender, delicate hooves as he dropped onto all fours, but not as a man, as a god.

Flowing grey and brown mottled fur had covered his entire body, and the shape of the stag, once sickly and thin, but now whole and strong, had taken hold once more. But it was different now, changed by his power, by his embracing of this other self he'd been keeping locked away and only teasing for occasional power for this long. This was the best of what he had. There were still elements of the lynx visible in the ears, markings and muscles, and when he opened his eyes he looked at the world not with two eyes, but four, one set for each form that made up this new shape. He stood closer to the height of a large horse than a deer, at least sixteen hands.

All four of his eyes fixed on the hatman who was standing staring, his mouth agape as he looked upon this unexpected turn of events, the injured Deacon forgotten on the table as Hal lunged forwards, the carnivorous jaw of the deer wide, displaying all of its glistening white teeth as he charged their tormentor.

The first strike was a bite to the neck. Hal felt bone splinter beneath the pressure of his jaws, and sour tasting blood spilled into his mouth. He furiously tossed his head, hurling his opponent backwards several metres, feeling a tingle of pain as it swiped poorly at him with the blade in its hand, a petty scratch.

Hal bellowed, rearing up, blue light glistening through his fur and antlers as he charged, his hooves cracking and splintering the tile floor as he accelerated, ramming his sharp, forward facing antlers into the hatman's chest and bashing him into the opposite wall with a roar. He felt the prongs of his horns split through bone and flesh and strike the wall, and he pressed hard, forcing them as deep as they would go. The hat made several choking noises, then abruptly fell from the head of its host onto the floor with a heavy sound, much heavier than it should have been were it just a hat.

The host, his face now revealed, was so thin he was almost a skeleton, his face was scarred from many tortures, his skin blistered and scarred, particularly around the mouth, blood still seeping from many, many cuts through his lips. He looked into Hal's face with haunted eyes, and raised a hand so weakly, touching the deer's face in the lightest, gentlest touch as his cracked, bleeding lips whispered an almost silent. “Thank you...” and he went limp.

Hal backed up and dropped the body, quickly making the decision to unpack that experience later, his eyes searching the floor for what he realised was his real opponent instead. It was apparently trying to scuttle away on tiny black legs. The hat had righted itself, and was making a break for the door.

Hal reared up again, stomping a ruthless hoof straight onto the thing, shattering whatever internal structures the hat had. It gasped, choked, and went still, oozing sickly off-white liquid onto the floor.

Pain and anger still surging through him, Hal stomped a few more times for good measure, then stumbled away, towards the table.

Deacon lay before him, panting, streaked with blood, both his own and Hal's, panic and confusion in his eyes.

Hal felt himself shiver at being the source of such fear, and he dropped to his knees, releasing his grip on the form, changing back to himself. The blue glow and patterns still circulated on his skin like animated tattoos. Like the ripples of a river flowing over him. But he was Hal again. He coughed and grimaced as blood filled his mouth, reaching down to his horrible wound and pressing a hand over it. The blue light spilled from his fingertips into the opening, pulling the sides of it back together, the flesh reaching out for its parted edges and pulling itself back with creeping threads of muscle. As he watched, a new mesh of tissue wove itself in place and sealed him back up, he could feel his burned and damaged organs cooling and repairing themselves, and his sliced open stomach sealing back into a secure shape.

“H-Hal?” Deacon's voice was hoarse and weak, and the biologist reached an arm onto the table, scooping the small body towards him, holding him against his chest. “Hal what... was that?”

Hal held him close, “It's okay, it's alright now,” he spoke gently, his voice shaky. “I'm still me, I promise.”

Deacon shivered, “My leg,” he stammered.

Hal shifted his grip on the small body, cradling it against his blood smeared chest as he gently examined the tiny man. The leg was badly damaged at the shin. A crushing slice so deep that he could see bone shattered beneath blood and flesh. “I can help but I need you to ask me for it... please... I can't help unless you ask... there's rules I have to obey...”

Deacon, his hazel eyes wide with trauma and confusion, sought explanation from Hal with a cold, baffled stare, and the biologist felt his chest ache, wanting so badly to explain. “Please. I'll tell you everything but you have to ask for my help first...”

“Please... help me fix my leg?” asked Blaine, his words weak and nervous.

Hal felt power tingle in his fingertips at the request, and he gently touched the wound, seeing blue light pour into it, knitting flesh and reducing the depth of the wound, securing the bone structure back together. “I can't heal it completely...” he said, a little frustrated, knowing he didn't have the energy or strength, “but I can repair the worst of it.” Once the light faded, leaving a lightly bleeding but not threatening wound, Hal gently squeezed the man against his neck. “I'm so sorry... I... haven't been entirely honest... about what I am...”

“W-What?”

“For the longest time, I was a regular human. But... a short while back... more recently even than you've been with me... I became something else.”

“Wh-what do you mean?” asked Deacon. “Is this why you're still alive? Even after everything that's happened?”

Hal nodded, then shook his head, “Most of all that was real. But... against my will in the line of duty, I inherited something... and I hid it. I was... scared. What the institute would think. What you would think of me...”

“Well what are you?” asked Blaine, his face worried.

“I am a god,” replied Hal after a moment of hesitation. His words were filled with caution but frank and honest. “Not a god like the Christian monotheistic god but... a god level entity from a much older, forgotten pantheon. I am... some incarnation of a god known once as Slaaneth. God of games, luck and the hunt.” As he said the name, his skin prickled and the strange, blue pattern glowed a little brighter. “I'm so sorry... I hid this from you, lied about what I was... I just wanted to pretend none of it was real but... when he hurt you I had to do it... had to accept the power and become... this. Can you forgive me?” his face was earnest as he moved the small man back a little to see his face, so scared at the response he would get.

Blaine seemed to be taking a good minute to process this, but as he saw the look on Hal's face he reached out his arms, visibly trying not to get even more covered in the blood as he wrapped his arms gently around Hal's neck and hugged him tightly. “I don't care about what you are. I never did. None of us did. Who you are is all that matters. All that ever mattered. We work with werewolves and vampires for fuck's sake!” he seemed to get suddenly annoyed and he pulled back from Hal, “Why did you think we would care if you were something else?!”

“I... because of my brother...” replied Hal, his eyes prickling. “He... didn't die in the seahorror battles... he contracted one of them as a parasite and they treated him like a monster. Everyone did. The dragons took him back to their world because he could no longer be a part of ours but... I'll never forget how people treated him, even though he was still human, still trying to help...”

“You stupid bastard!” there was no anger in the words, though Deacon's voice did break a bit as he shouted at Hal. “We would never have done that to you...”

“Maybe not you, but the institute would... and still may,” Hal sighed, “I just caught myself in a trap of being unable to tell anyone, and therefore refusing to even admit it to myself.”

“Well... I'm glad you came to your senses when you did or I might need a new leg right now...”

Hal exhaled quietly. “We should go... see if we can find Lance and get out of here... wherever here is...”

“But you're hurt...”

Hal gently lowered the small man to his middle to show him it was now intact. “I've patched it up, things aren't completely right but... I'm whole again.”

Deacon nervously reached out a hand and touched the blood smeared skin, blinking as one of the blue patterns nearby was disturbed by his touch, rippling and reacting like he had broken the surface of water beside it.

Hal raised him up again. “I know I've broken your trust. I know this is a lot but will you let me keep you safe one last time until we get out of here... and then if you want to walk away from me and never speak to me again, or if you want to interrogate me and demand more explanations... I will understand.”

Deacon, visibly aghast from this overload of information, his jaw slightly slack in shock, gave a small nod, and Hal gently nuzzled him in thanks before opening his mouth and starting to push the small man inside.

The familiar taste of spiciness on his tongue despite the overwhelming flavour of his own blood made Hal feel immediately warm and reassured. He pushed Deacon inside, not wanting to waste time and savour his friend, he just wanted him locked away safe again. He swallowed hard and fast, packing the injured little man away with ruthless efficiency, the tingling sensation of Deacon's energy more intense than ever as he slid swiftly down inside. Hal kept a hand over his neck, shielding his small friend jealously as he passed through the delicate area, and did not lower it until the last bulge had passed under his collarbone, then Hal collapsed against the side of the table, looking down at himself as his precious friend was squeezed down inside, blushing as he realised the light patterns on his skin were reacting to Deacon, shifting around him as though being pressed at by his energy, changing colour from blue to yellow, and eventually, when the small man squashed into his belly and settled, the yellow faded to a reassuring warm orange, gathered around the delicate little shape inside. The patterns swirled around where Deacon rested, covering the area more thickly, and Hal blushed as he gently stroked at the man, disturbing the patterns like ripples in water. “Are you okay.”

“You know those blue patterns you've got now? They're on the inside as well.”

“Oh...” Hal blushed even more pink, “I'm sorry, they're new... I can probably hide them...” he closed his eyes, focusing, his hand still resting firmly on his belly as he worked to turn off the swirling glow. After a moment or two, he found what he had to do, and the glow faded away, hidden deeper within his skin now. It took effort to hold it like that, and if he was put in dark enough conditions, he was willing to bet, he would still be at least a little bit glowy. “Better?”

“They're still faintly here but it's better... and Hal... don't be scared... I'm not going to leave... I will want more answers but... I'm not going anywhere.”

Hal felt his stomach pinch in relief, and he pressed tightly at his friend, squashing the weight against himself in the closest he could manage to a hug. “Thank you...” he replied, his voice wavering a little with the words.

“Now go find Lance and flex on him that you're cooler than he is.”

Hal rushed to the door, unsurprised to find it locked, but a quick examination of the dead host's pinstripe pockets revealed a key. It wasn't a key, or a lock, like anything he quite knew. It was reminiscent of the concept of locks, just, using shapes and means with which he had nothing to compare. It took a good few tries of inserting the metallic piece into the gap in the door, but eventually, he was rewarded with a grinding sound, and the door opened up. Sighing in relief, Hal yanked it open with a creak to find himself in a cold, empty, tiled corridor. The door directly opposite his revealed its secrets quickly enough when he heard a sharp, snarky voice behind it hurling well choreographed insults, there was no responding voice or sound of movement so he had to assume, for now, that the vampire was alone.

Curiously and with endless hope, Hal tried the key in that door too, and to his surprise, it actually worked. He doubled down on the method that had worked with the previous lock, and felt the device grind and click until the door came loose.

The minute it clicked open, the insults from within swiftly increased in their intensity, and Hal slipped inside and closed it after him. “Shhhh!” he hissed, “It's me you goddamn oversized mosquito!”

The insults swiftly stopped, and Hal looked around to see the room was much like his own, but instead of chains the vampire was stuck in a small silver cage only about a metre in every direction. He was crunched up in an awkward sitting position trying to hold all of himself off the bars and away from the top, which was also silver. He looked even more pale and drawn than Hal was accustomed to, showing that the close proximity to the silver had been taking its toll on him, and his skin was visibly burned and damaged in many spots from contact with the metal. “Hal?!”

“Well aren't you a pretty sight all packaged up?”

“Hal how the fuck are you loose? That bowler hat guy said he was on his way to cut you open and extract your 'tenant.'” The vampire's eyes narrowed as Hal got close. “He also said you weren't human and they didn't know what you were... and now you're close enough for me to smell you... I'd have to agree... care to explain?”

“In order, yes he was coming to do that, yes he did, so I impaled him and stamped him to death. Deacon is fine, I got better, and I'm actually a forgotten god from a long past pantheon,” he started to examine the cage for locks and doors. “Any further questions?”

“When... did that happen?”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

<< First || Previous || Masterlist || Next >> (Next chapter available on my Kofi/Patreon! Free release date for this chapter will be around June 10th! I offer both a single purchase per chapter option, as well as a monthly subscription which will offer full access to the chapters a fortnight early as well as additional content for the ISMI universe! I appreciate all and any support I can get <3)

Sorry guys. You didn't think Hal was getting out of this without some kind of severe trauma which may or may not come back and haunt him?

Sorry this is a few days late. I am very sick. I don't know what I have but it might be the flu. During a heatwave. I am suffering. And also I might have been spending way too much time in Crimson Desert >_> I have three vore fics for it already and can't stop please kill me.

[llaberration]

I.S.M.I - Chapter Thirty Five.

“Why did we pick this one again?” Lance's voice was a little on the strained side.

“Don't blame me, I wanted to do Mystic Moor,” replied Hal, equally strained.

“And I think you're both dumb for not picking Tinytown.” Added Deacon, less strained as he was reclining calmly in a warm fleshy hammock while the two men worked.

“Look I am telling you that one is the worst, I just know it. There's something about it that tells me it's a bad one,” insisted Lance. “Even if it's not bugs, I just have a bad feeling about it, and if we're allowed to trust Hal's gut instincts then surely we should trust mine too.”

“Y'know, I would have agreed with you half an hour ago,” grunted Hal, “Before you picked this and we came here because honestly this one isn't exactly fabulous either.”

They were at Waterfall Wilds, inching their way agonisingly along a wet, slippery ledge of rock barely half a foot wide at the best spots, suspended over a perfectly round lagoon of fabulously blue water. The water would have looked very inviting even to Hal, except for the threatening black shapes circling in the water, added to the fact that the level of the lagoon's surface was persistently rising towards them. Five massive waterfalls were tipping down from above the basin, adding to both the level of the lake, and to the slipperiness of the spiralling path on which they stood, as spray soaked their clothes and hair.

Lance shot Hal a glare as he continued to inch his way along, his back to the rock wall, using it for balance as he went. Sure, the vampire could have used his abilities to go considerably faster, but as Hal had pointed out, they were here to put on a show and 'cheating' was not going to do that. He had made it clear that they had to make it look difficult as much as possible until someone was in actual mortal danger. In so doing, he had actually made it hard, especially for the vampire, whose smart black business shoes were very poorly suited for this kind of thing. Hal on the other hand with hard wearing walking boots that had at least a year's wearing in, so he was handling it pretty well.

“What even are those things. You're the fish guy,”

“You know damn well those are no more regular fish than the pirates in the bayou were regular people,” muttered Hal. “I don't even think these are natural or even alive!”

When they had entered the waterfall wilds down a concerningly long underground tunnel they had found themselves on a golden sandy floored basin with these huge stone walls towering above them like a massive tube. Around the sides of the basin had been stone arches with strong glass windows set into them, and when Hal had gone to peer through, it had become clear that the space behind them was enormous. A massive aquatic environment designed to contain some very unfriendly looking creatures. It had taken Hal a few moments of squinting and cupping his hands around his eyes on the glass to get a proper look at one of the dark, floating shapes.

Reminiscent of a shark in basic design, but only in the most vague of ways, they had square nosed, defined heads with altogether too many teeth to be called practical, three dorsal fins and a three pointed tail. Not one but two sets of hollow eyes, one on the actual head but one behind the jaw glared forth, and Hal theorised one of those was probably a fake 'display' set, but he couldn't say for sure, or which one. The worst and strangest part was that good chunks of their bodies were missing altogether, revealing strange, decayed looking bone structure that was far from natural, and looked almost as though it had been constructed from waterlogged wood. Their leathery skin around these areas seemed to be holding together reasonably well, and even in cases where entire body areas were severed other than the bone, they seemed to move and swim perfectly normally. Strangest of all, (at least to Hal) was a strange, toothlike fleshy organ at the front of their mouths, hanging where the front, largest teeth should be, it was vascular and had a threatening red colour to it that glowed faintly even through the water.

Overall, they were a lot to take in. And predictably, as soon as the water had begun to rush into the space, the glass panels had slid away from their resting places in the arches, and several of the dark shapes had begun to circle the rising liquid.

Occasionally a face would breath the surface with a laboured, gurgling snort that further confounded Hal's understanding of biology because he was fairly confident these creatures weren't air breathers, and therefore, they shouldn't have had the means or the motivation to snort at them.

Thus had begun the long climb. The water rose fast, and they worked to go at a pace just enough to keep them well clear of any unexpected lunges. “Well. I suppose knowing what they are wouldn't really help anyway,” muttered the vampire. “Doesn't matter if it's a shark or a lion if it wants to eat you.”

“I can tell you with absolute certainty as a professional and a biologist that they aren't lions,” added Hal, helpfully.

“You know what I mean,” snipped Lance, still creeping his way up the cliffside.

They were actually not very far below the top now, and the water level was starting to rise faster, putting a bit more of a rush in their step as the two men worked to not die. Hal knew he had instructed Green once again not to tell them if anything was going on outside unless it directly affected them, but he did feel a little prickle of concern that the creatures would be wary about returning so soon. He knew they loved their entertainment but would they be tempted back into what was now very obviously a trap?

“Hal...” Deacon spoke up.

“Hm?”

“I've spotted something.”

“You'll have to be more specific Blaine, now isn't a good time for a game of I-spy.”

“On the wall opposite, behind the waterfall,”

Hal squinted in the direction as given, frowning. He could see something... looked like a metal railing sticking out from the side of the fall. “Hm... that's odd...” he muttered, continuing to sidle along the wall to get a different angle. “It's a balcony...” he muttered, “With a door...” he squinted, reading a red sign on the metal construction. “Staff only, strictly no entry to guests.”

Lance frowned, “Well. It only occurs to me now that this is the first maintenance door we have seen at all. Anywhere in the park.”

Hal nodded, “Only other staff only area I have seen in any funtopia site was at the airport.”

“What was behind it?”

“Offices, lost property... nothing as exciting as you'd think.”

“Why put one here though...?” Lance muttered. “That's... a stupid place to have a maintenance door.”

“That's what makes it interesting,” Deacon joined in. “There's nothing to maintain there, and if the water keeps rising that entire thing will be underwater, so why would it be there at all?”

Hal chewed his lip, “You have a point. If it was just on the side of a walkway I wouldn't think anything of it but the walkways don't even go near there,”

“We could be over-analysing it,” suggested Lance. “Nothing about this place is normal so why would the maintenance doors be? It might just be a trap, simple.”

Hal tutted to himself, considering carefully as they continued to climb. Some sense was telling him that that door held some secret he should know about, something that called to him. He tried to peer down at the thing as they circled over it on the walkway, but they were very high up, and he couldn't stick his head out without the waterfall hitting it, and the force of the water would certainly have dragged him off the edge. “Well let's carry on for now, but I have suspicions about that door,”

They edged their way on upwards, the water flowing faster and faster as they drew closer to the top. It was about a foot from lapping at Hal's boots when they were finally able to step out onto a platform marked by a red line entitled 'finish,' and the water stopped rising. Hal exhaled a slow breath, looking out into the blue water, feeling a little trill of fear as three of the dark shapes circled up opposite them and their strange, square heads rose out of the water, cold, perfectly round eyes observing the two men. “I really do not like those,” muttered Hal. “And I have seen my share of unpleasant sea creatures. At least the seahorrors weren't intelligent... these are... I don't know. There's something in their eyes. Like they're malicious.”

Lance made an expression of distaste, “Come on, let's move away from the edge. I don't trust them not to try one last jump for us.”

Hal pulled himself away from the cold stares, and followed as Lance began to descend the stairs on the side of the platform that went back down the side of the cylinder. They had followed it around for a while when Hal paused, and stopped to stare at the wall. “Wait a second... look at this thing. This structure.”

“What about it Hal?”

“It's just a cylinder.”

“So?”

“So where does that bloody maintenance door go?”

The vampire stopped. “That's... a good question...”

Hal shook his head, “Well, we can't go back now... but that's going to annoy me forever.”

They continued on their way down the stairs to a 'prize room' at the bottom. It looked a lot like the previous one they had encountered but this one was stylised with waterfalls and sharks. “Stupid,” muttered Hal as he pushed the door open, since this one clearly didn't require doubloons. “Sharks don't even live in waterfalls.”

The vampire followed him in, shaking his head. “That's what annoys you about all of this? The choice of décor and the placement of maintenance doors?”

Hal shrugged, “The biologist in me is annoyed at the poor characterisation of sharks... and the investigator in me is extremely annoyed about that door. It's just not sitting right with me.”

Lance shrugged and began opening the four displayed shutters to look at the prizes. “Well. Don't look now but it seems they're getting a better grip on who we are.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Look,” the vampire gestured at the prizes.

Directly before Lance was a Wonderpark branded novelty drinking cup with a curly straw. Except this one was filled with what definitely looked like blood. A faintly coppery scent coming from it confirmed Hal's suspicions.

In the shutter to Lance's left was an elaborate glass and silver hip flask, also containing blood.

In the ones closer to Hal, the one on his left contained another elaborate filamented tattoo structure, but this one, on examination, was designed for the other arm, the left, but it had been personalised for Hal in that two long strips of filament extended upwards in the shape of two fingers, solidifying into solid looking replacements for his missing digits.

The final window, the one on the right, contained a rubber shark with what looked like a squeaker at the back of its mouth.

Hal felt a little shiver run down his spine. The vampire was right. These prizes were clearly designed to target them. “Well. They're as bold as ever and... somehow more sarcastic than I expected.”

Lance looked over the row of prizes, his eyes glittering suspiciously. “Well. I don't know about you but I never take blood from strangers. Especially not in probably cursed containers. He circled behind Hal and reached out, taking hold of the squeaky shark and smiling as he raised his prize. I learned my lesson last time.”

Hal looked at the vampire, then back at the obviously begging to be taken gauntlet. He searched his instincts, trying to sense if this was a trap, but his instincts had nothing to say. There was no danger here. Or at least nothing that would adversely affect the 'hunt.' That was good enough for him. He reached out and hovered his hand over the thing, drawing a deep breath this time before making gentle contact with it.

He hissed through his teeth as the thing did exactly the same as the previous one, flowing along his arm in a sensation a little like being flayed with needles, and settling into place, matching its counterpart other than two long, patterned lines that fed down his arm and the top of his hand to connect with the two new, metallic fingertips. Hal flexed his hand, and the fingers flexed with it, and he chuckled. “They really didn't lie when they said the prizes would be better this time...”

Lance, who was shooting him an odd, narrow eyed look, nodded slightly. “Mhmm. Well. Let's get out of here and see if we have company.”

“Lance, Hal,” the voice of Green crackled over their earpieces, making both men straighten up. “We didn't want to disturb you before because you were focusing on a life or death situation but... you need to know this. They came back again, but this time they did it strategically, split up across the park's exterior. Two of them were captured, but four got into the park with you. Hal they're in there somewhere. You nned to leave.”

“Got it. We're on our way out now.” He looked at Lance, who gave him a stoic nod, and the two of them moved to the exit door, opening it up. They stepped outside into the cool air and looked around. The park was peaceful. A little bit of late afternoon sun was filtering down through the orange leafed trees overhead, and Hal paused to look slowly around. Something was missing. “Where's the staff?” he muttered.

Lance stepped out beside him and glanced around. “They're... nowhere,” his eyes glowed red for a moment as he peered out across their surroundings, a neat little cobbled path that led back onto the main road of the park, surrounded by little koi ponds trickling merrily with tiny waterfalls. It was offensively calm. “They're just... gone.”

Hal frowned, “Oh I do not like that. I do not like that one bit.” He began to move down the path and Lance stuck close beside him, both of them feeling and sensing that something was wrong now. Like the world was holding its breath. It was a sensation Hal could only equate to a predator about to pounce, and the park was the predator. One hand subtly crept to his middle and held firm there against Deacon as his friend sat nervously tense against him.

Lance, taking a moment to examine his prize as they walked, gave the little rubber shark a squeeze, causing a high pitched squeal that almost made Hal fall over in surprise. “Goddamn it Lance!” snapped the man, “What are you...” he blinked as he heard a strange little flopping noise.

Lance pointed a long finger at the path in front of them, where a glittering little shape was flopping on the ground making angry snapping noises. “Did your... squeaky shark just... summon a fish?”

The vampire gave a slow nod. “You know, I think it did.”

Hal bent down over the flopping form, “Red bellied pirahna,” he commented, lowering a hand, blinking as the creature leapt towards it, snapping angrily. “Feisty little bastard.” He whipped his hand out more carefully, pinching the tail between his new, metal thumb and forefinger, just wanting to be sure it was real. It was, and it flopped angrily in his grasp as he held it. “Doesn't seem as bothered to be out of water as a normal fish either.” He looked around, spotted one of the Koi ponds was empty, and flicked the little creature into it, where it sank, gathered its senses, then promptly leapt out of the water at him, snapping angrily. Hal dodged it, then recaptured it and threw it back in the water. This time, the fish seemed to pause for a moment and consider its situation before disappearing in a little poof of light.

Hal and Lance looked at each other. “So. See something new every day,” commented Hal. “Best hang onto that shark, the ISMI will for sure want to take a look at that, but for now, we should move.”

No sooner did they emerge onto the main path than Hal did a surprised little sidestep away from the stone side of the cylinder where it met the ground. There was a maintenance door, right there. He glared at it, sensing something was off. This one had an additional sign on it that read; 'Under no circumstances should a guest enter,' both the choice of words as well as the unnecessary placement of this new sign in addition to the previous, perfectly adequate one, made Hal uneasy. “Nope,” he muttered, giving it a wide berth. “Nope, I no longer want to know what that's about.”

They began to make their way back down the path towards the main entrance, and they had only gone about twenty metres when Hal spotted another maintenance door. This one set into a fence surrounding the Ape Alp attraction. Yet another sign had been added that simply read 'beware' and looked as though it had been hand written on cardboard and stuck on with duct tape. “Oh now they're just asking for us to go through one,” muttered Hal.

“Why though?”

“Green? Just how long ago did the ones you didn't get arrive in the park?”

“Twenty two minutes ago,”precise as always.

“Right before we spotted that first door...” muttered Lance.

“Those doors are definitely a trap,” muttered Hal, hurrying past it.

“Why are they doing this though? They've never been this targeted or aggressive with their tricks before...”

“Maybe they're angry we caught some of their guys,” suggested Deacon.

“I suppose I can understand that,” muttered Hal. “But this feels more personal. Honestly I think they're done with games. They want us... they want us real bad and I have no idea why...” the tone of the game had changed all of a sudden, as though the game masters were no longer playing by the rules.

“Word from Kaplain at the gates supports that theory Hal... the gates are gone.”

“They're what?”

“They're gone.”

Hal grimaced, then stopped walking, cupping his hands around his mouth, “That's cheating. We're supposed to be allowed to leave.”

There was no response, and Hal glared around, recoiling as he realised something had appeared directly behind him. It was a crudely written sign that read; 'We didn't remove the gates. We moved them. It's a new game.'

Lance raised an eyebrow, “Does that feel sarcastic to you? How does a sign feel sarcastic?”

Hal drew a slow breath, “Deacon, still got that drone?”

“Hovering by the entrance of waterfall wilds.”

“Good. Start looking for an exit. I have a contingency plan but we can't use it out in the open, it takes a minute to set up and if they see what I'm doing they will stop us,” he touched his earpiece, “Green, tell Sayer that I want him to ready his half of the contingency plan.”

“Want to tell me what this plan is?” asked Green.

“No. The less said about it, the more likely it is to work,” he looked at Lance, “Let's go. We should keep moving and search for an exit for ourselves. If we stay in one spot we might as well give up now.”

The vampire nodded, and the two of them set off at a pace down the road.

“Hal - have a prob-”

“Hm?” Hal frowned as Blaine's voice crackled and static buzzed in his ear.

“-jamming-th-electronics-”

“Shit,” Hal tapped his earpiece, “Green, can you hear me? They're interfering with our electronics...” Only cold static responded.

“Hal!” Deacon's voice was a muffled shout rather than an attempt on the communicator. “They've cut off the drone and the headsets!”

Hal patted gently at his friend, “Don't worry. We'll hoof it if we have to.” He leaned close to Lance. “Or if we can find a hidden spot we might be able to use the contingency plan.”

As they moved, looking for a sheltered spot, there were many more maintenance doors now, plastered with increasingly sarcastic warning signs that by that point had progressed to calling them chickens for not daring to trespass through the doors.

They passed by the top of the courtyard where the entrance had once been, but now there was just a solid fence there between Information and the gift shop. Hal heard a frantic tapping and paused, “Wait a second Lance.” He looked around and saw a single finger sneaking out from the information window tapping and beckoning him over.

“You're not going to trust that...” snapped Lance.

But Hal was already on his way over. At the window, the finger pointed urgently to the right, and a hideous voice that sounded like it was pushed through a chainsaw instead of vocal chords spoke up, “between mystic moor and ghoul grotto. Look behind the door not through it.” No sooner had the words finished than the window snapped shut on the finger hard, severing it, drawing a horrifying shriek from the creature inside.

Lance grabbed Hal and pulled him away as the severed digit twitched on the sill, “Come on. Let's go before you get all of us killed.”

Hal fumbled in his pockets for the map, unfolding it and running his finger across it. “Here, we have to go here,” he pointed to the gap between the two.”

“You believe that thing?!”

Hal shrugged, “They've not been unpleasant to us yet. And they definitely fear the hatmen so... you got a better idea?”

The vampire let out a laboured sigh, “Let me guess, your gut again?”

Hal grinned, and the two men set off at a run.

It wasn't a long journey to the specified location, and just like the staff had indicated, an exit door sat neatly in the fences between the two areas, marked by a nice large green exit sign.

Lance reached out and hovered a hand beside the door but Hal caught it gently and pulled it back. “Remember, look behind the door, not through it,” he said, walking to one side and gently grasping a handle partly hidden in the wood, pulling the entire piece of fence forwards with a grunt. Behind it, a narrow walkway led between the two lines of fence, and at the far end, Hal was sure he could see the corner of a ticket booth. “Come on.”

Lance followed him as they hurried down the walkway, “We would never have found this... why did the staff help?”

“Maybe because I'm nice to them?” suggested Hal. “Maybe you should give it a shot sometime.”

“I will never get my head around you O'dwyer.”

They hurried along the path towards the exit as it rose into view, the path opening up into a smaller courtyard that was laid out before the booths, and beyond that, outside.

“I think that's far enough,” the voice was pitchy and raspy, and came from a dark figure strolling out across the courtyard to block their path.

Long, slender limbs seemed to twitch and move at not quite correct speeds... like it was a recording playing at a faster frame rate than reality. A horribly badly fitted grey pinstripe suit with excessive shoulder padding clad the starved looking body, and an overlarge cowboy hat sat directly on the shoulders, with only the smallest sliver of neck visible, graced with a cream coloured shirt collar and hideously yellow silk tie.

Hal stopped, and Lance stood close beside him, their hips almost touching as the two stood, alert and ready for a fight or flight accordingly. “No I don't think it is,” replied Hal. “We found the exit, we won your game...”

“Ah but did you though?”

“We're here, the exit is right there...” Lance replied, his voice a little hissy and his lip a little raised, showing his glittering fang.

“Indeed it is... but you're still in here, which means you have in fact won nothing,” a second high pitched voice joined the first, and a second figure, this one in an oversized bowler hat and a dirty green tie. Two more were approaching from the sides, one with a tophat, a red tie and the other in a second bowler hat and a purple tie. From the rim of each hat glittered a pair of cold, compound eyes that shone unsettlingly as the light caught them. As they spoke, Hal noticed the 'mouth' that was making words was formed where the brim of the hat met the ribbon, the fabric creaking and stretching as whatever was hidden beneath the material spoke.

“Wow... you guys are the worst power rangers I have ever seen,” Hal folded his arms. “Where's the blue guy, he was always my favourite.”

The creatures spared a moment to stare a little incredulously at Hal that he wasn't more intimidated, then the yellow tie pulled himself together enough to continue his speech, “But look. We're reasonable folks. So let me make you a very generous one time offer. We let the spare one go... and just keep you two,”

“Spare one...?”

“Your little friend,”

Hal felt his belly pinch around Deacon. “What do you... want with us?”

“Him, nothing. He can go. He's too ordinary and much too small to be of use to us. But you two... you have bodies we can... use.”

Hal did not like the sound of how this was shaping up at all. “Thanks but we're actually still using them...”

“Wasn't asking,” the red creature replied, a nasty smile revealing a row of black, glittering teeth. “That's what all this was for after all... to see who could pass our tests... survive. People with... stronger bodies... tougher ones... ones that won't waste away like normal people...”

Hal felt his throat dry up a little bit as he felt Deacon tense up even more, and Lance gave him a side-eye. “Well Lance is already dead and I'm just a regular guy so... guess you'll have to try elsewhere...”

All four creatures responded to this with hollow, rattling laughter, and Lance leaned towards Hal a little, “How is that contingency plan looking?” he muttered.

“Still won't work if they see me doing it, and it takes time,” replied Hal through the side of his mouth. “They'll intervene.”

Lance let out a tired little sigh. “You want me to run a distraction?”

“Would you? I'd be ever so appreciative.”

The vampire shrugged, “if I must,” he turned towards the creatures, and began advancing on them in confident steps, his posture raised and aggressive as he flexed his hands, his eyes glowing red as he began to gear himself up for proper combat.

Before he could however, one of the hat men clapped his hands, and the floor of the courtyard dropped out from under them, letting both men freefall into darkness as the world, and freedom, rushed away from them.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

<< First || Previous || Masterlist || Next >>

And so we find ourselves looking upon the final arc of the story. We've finally caught up with the guys in charge of all this and they're.... kinda unintimidating? Well. Looks like Hal isn't getting a break anytime soon.

[llaberration]

I don't know if anyone is interested, but I'm putting up a Resident Evil vore fanfic on my DA and A03 over the next few days. It's about forty pages of self indulgent fanfic bulllshit, but hey if you're interested check it out on whichever you prefer! (It's the usual nonfatal, nonsexual m/m vore of course) Only reason I'm not putting it up here is because I haven't seen much in the way of super long vore fanfic stuff on Tumblr. If I'm wrong about that let me know but I haven't stumbled on much.

[llaberration]

I.S.M.I - Chapter Thirty Four.

The jaws clacked shut so closely behind Hal that he was sure he felt the teeth scrape his boot as he fell forwards.

Before him, Lance was squirming, sliding down a plastic flume-like structure in the darkness. The two of them slid for a moment before coming to an abrupt stop in a ballpit filled with golden balls, and a sign at the end of the ballpit declared. “Congratulations! You found the treasure!”

“You absolute idiot Hal!” snapped Lance, sitting up to glare at him. “What if you'd be wrong?! We'd both be dead!”

Hal grinned, and chuckled a plastic ball at him. “I wasn't wrong. The alligator only had one eye... did you see what was in the other socket?”

“No?”

“A dubloon. There was also one wedged in the back teeth,” Hal grinned, “They hid the gold in the alligator.”

Lance, pulling himself out of the ballpit, dusted himself off. “Well... what about the timing? Those jaws could have killed us!”

“For a dead fellow Lance, you are extremely concerned about dying.”

Hal chuckled at this cutting remark from Deacon as he stood up. “Come on, let's go see if we won.”

They looked around the space, which was a dimly lit room painted fleshy pink. At the far side of it there was a plastic treasure chest with glittery gold coins scattered all around. A small sign beside it read, “Take one coin each that you can use to claim your prize!”

Hal picked one up, giving it a quick examination before nodding, “These are definitely not silver, so you're safe with these,” he flicked one of the plastic coins to Lance. “Come on, Let's go find out what there is to win. If their sign out front is anything to go by, these prizes are 'bigger and better' than before. Given that all of the prizes we've seen previously were made of body parts... I dread to think what bigger and better means.

The vampire shook his head, holding the coin. “I don't know... I have it on pretty good authority that you caught yourself a prize worth keeping at the wondermall,”

Hal blinked, then chuckled, patting Deacon gently. “I suppose I did.”

They headed towards the door marked 'exit and prizes' and up a set of stairs into a courtyard behind the bayou. They could still faintly hear the snapping of the huge jaws, but there was a hefty fence blocking the area between them and the creatures in the Bayou now, making Hal feel a bit safer as they moved forwards. On the other side of the small, decorated courtyard was a gold painted building with glass windows that were also tinted gold, blocking their view of what was inside. A large sigh above the door declared in elaborate gold letters that winners collected their prizes there.

“I... don't see another exit from the Bayou,” Lance commented, walking backwards so that he could view the fence. “The only way out is the one we took...”

“Uh... Lance, that's because the losers don't leave,” Hal glanced at the vampire.

“None of them? There's no backing out?”

“I seriously doubt this place lets you change your mind once you're in a game, You either win or you die, or 'they get to keep you'... that's how it operates... and they don't want you to win. They want you to lose.”

Lance grimaced and turned away, shaking his head, “Imagine if people found this place... they would never have a clue of the dangers... it's all set up so convincingly...”

“Like us at the earlier sites,” Hal shook his head, “We lost people because we had no idea how high the stakes were. And we still don't know what it's all for...”

They reached the doors in morose quiet, and Hal tried the handle. “Locked...” he spoke thoughtfully.

“Look,” the vampire gestured to a slot in the door that said 'Insert doubloon for entry,”

Hal blinked, then slid his doubloon into the slot, and the door clicked open. He pushed it and peered inside. It was a small space with four sets of shutters on the opposite wall and a door at the far end. Puzzled, he stepped through, jumping as the door snapped shut behind him. He turned immediately to try and open it, but it was locked up tight.

Lance calmly reached out and pushed his doubloon into the slot, and the door clicked once more, allowing him to open it.

“Hold that one open while I check the other one is a real door and this place won't immediately vaporise us,” said Hal, going to the other door and opening it. It opened fine, and on the other side was a small walkway back onto the main circular path of the park. “Huh.”

“Satisfied?”

“Not entirely, I'm leaving this one open just in case,” muttered the biologist before moving back.

Lance stepped into the room, and the door snapped shut behind, but the exit door remained sedately open.

Hal nodded, and finally looked at the four sets of shutters, each one was labelled as a prize, and between them on a wall a small golden plaque had rules in delicate cursive writing.

Claim one Prize per player!

No more than one, or something very bad will happen!

No exchanges if you don't like what you choose.

Touch a prize to confirm your selection. Don't touch until you're sure!

Looks can be deceiving so choose wisely.

Hal rubbed his chin thoughtfully and reached out to delicately open one of the shutters, holding his breath as he half expected a pile of viscera to drop out onto the floor.

Inside the cabinet was a strangely painted block of wood. About six inches in each dimension, it was a perfect cube. It had been expertly decorated to make it look like it was being split open by jagged blue and white patterns that twisted and branched like lightening. It was finished with a beautiful shine to it that made it look almost as though it was made of resin. “Weird...” he muttered, opening a second cabinet. This one contained a strange, cylindrical latticed looking object of some material Hal couldn't identify, it was so thin and delicate it almost looked like someone had simply painted it onto thin air, it shone with a metallic glint that made it look like it was more a liquid than a solid. The latticing itself was so intricately patterned it was hard to say human hands could possibly have been responsible.

Lance popped open a third cabinet and let out a little gasp as a beautiful golden goblet glittered before him, studded with jewels around the rim and carved with swirls and spirals. “Now this is more like it,” he commented, “Some real pirate treasure!” he smiled slightly as he opened the final case.

In the final case laid what looked like a pewter amulet, its dim silvery shine quite beautiful in its own way. On a delicate but strong looking silver chain it hung, innocent and unassuming, carved with several symbols that even on close inspection, Hal could not decipher or recognise.

“Hm. What do you think Hal?” asked the vampire.

“I think,” muttered Hal, squinting closely at the amulet. “That these are artefacts. Precisely the kind of thing the ISMI tries to contain.”

“You think they're magical?”

“I can't be sure,” Hal shook his head, “If I had Sayer here, he could tell us with his Ignotuscientific nose but... I can't. But I strongly suspect this is a new strategy by the wonder-company-people-things... prizes before were repellent, designed to shock. This feels like they're actually attempting to bait someone different in now... perhaps even specifically us since we keep spoling their fun.”

“Hmm,” the vampire rubbed his chin. “Should... we take one?”

“We won them fair and square...” Hal shrugged, “And if they are magical it would be better in the hands of the institute than these lunatics. It just seems odd they've switched to the kind of bait we're looking for.”

“Perhaps they simply realised people wouldn't risk their lives for plane rides or bits of dead humans...”

Hal chewed his lip, “Maybe. But we shouldn't dawdle. We agreed, in and out after one 'game' so we should get going and find out what's been going on outside.”

Lance came to stand before the golden goblet, “Well. I know which one is my style.”

“Ugh, you're so predicable,” Hal said, pacing between the remaining three, “What do you think Deacon?”

“I think the second one. It's strange and intriguing,”

Hal smiled, patting at his friend, “You're the boss,” he went and stood in front of the object, “Okay... here we go,” he put his hand into the case, extending a finger to delicately touch the 'prize.'

As soon as he did so, there was a sharp stab of pain in his hand, and his eyes widened as he saw the lattice had extended a series of needle sharp spikes into his fingertip. It was flowing into his hand like ink, spreading down his fingers, disappearing from the case as it did so. He tried to pull his hand away but the lattice came with it as though it was weightless, the sharp burning like needles under his skin spreading down his forearm and spreading across it. He fumbled for his sleeve, tugging it back and staring as he saw the lattice work rebuilding itself on his skin like a tattoo, still with that metallic sheen to it. He hissed through his teeth as it finished, then drew a slow breath as the pain faded. “What... on earth...” he turned his arm, examining his new 'tattoo' and flexing his hand, “It's... just a tattoo?” he muttered in confusion. However, as he flexed his arm, he realised it seemed to 'shift' with his thoughts. Parts of the 'ink' changed shape as he directed attention at it. Curiously, he focused on the first metal thing he could think of, a needle, due to the needling pain, and to his shock, a 'string' of the pattern immediately came away from his arm in the shape of a needle. He reached out and delicately took the thing. It was indeed a needle. Perfect in detail and made of the strange, slightly blue-hued metal. He put it back against the skin and it 'sank' back into the tattoo. He raised an eyebrow and thought 'lockpick' and a small, slightly round-ended tool rose from several strands of the thing weaving together, he took it and added 'and a tension wrench,' grinning as the second tool for picking a lock rose up as well. “Oh... my god...” he muttered, holding the tools in his other hand as he turned to look at Lance.

Lance was staring, staring at him, the goblet clutched in his hand, a look of intense anger on his face.

“What?” asked Hal, pressing the tools back onto the tattoo and watching them melt into it.

“It's plastic,” the vampire said.

“Huh? It's...” he raised an eyebrow at his tattoo.

“No not that,” snapped the man in annoyance, “The goblet, it's plastic!”

Hal frowned, “Well... the sign did say looks could deceive...”

Lance scoffed, “This is the true evil here,” he glared at the goblet. “The alligators, the pirate monsters, trying to 'keep' people that was nothing. This is it, we found the evil.”

Hal chuckled, “Well, don't throw it away just yet, it might have some unseen value, who knows?”

“How do you mean?”

Hal grinned and used his mind to ask the tattoo for a blade, and it promptly grew into a sharp, hooked blade that extended from the side of his forearm outwards in a long sickle that extended just past his hand, but stayed anchored in his arm unlike the smaller, previous items. “This shit is pretty magical. Maybe yours is too and we just need to figure out how?”

“Well... that's... odd.”

“Yeah I... don't know how the institute are going to handle this... I don't know if it can be removed...” Hal gripped the side of the blade gently, giving it a tug, but it was anchored in place and did not budge.

“Well let's deal with that issue when we come to it,” sighed the vampire impatiently. “We should go before they raise the difficulty level or something.”

Hal nodded, withdrawing the blade into his arm and pulling his sleeve down over it. “Let's go,” he agreed.

The two of them headed out through the door and cut a right at the end of the path as Deacon's drone rejoined them. Then, they made their exit swiftly and without stopping. Hal could tell there were more 'staff' around now, they barely passed a single tree or bush that didn't have some creepy hands visible around or near it. There were even some laid out on the path on long, snaking arms that would withdraw before they reached them, sliding off into the bushes. Either they were increasing in number, or more of them had come from other parts of the park to watch the guests.

“I wish we had some more magical eyes,” murmured Hal, “I'd love to get a better idea what we're looking at...”

“It would make prize selection safer as well,” muttered Lance, still glaring at his plastic goblet.

Hal chuckled, “Unfortunately we cannot bring Sayer in here. It's too dangerous.”

“Can't you just eat him and bring him along like your secretary there?”

Hal shook his head, “I can't risk losing mobility, and if I go around just freely eating people, that's what'll happen. Feel free to volunteer yourself though.”

Lance looked highly affronted at this suggestion. “I haven't eaten solids in seventy years. I do not believe it would be wise for me to suddenly attempt such a manoeuvre.”

Hal shrugged, “Then I guess we will have to make do without him won't we.”

As they headed back towards the entrance, trying hard not to tread on any lurking fingers lest it elicit an unpleasant response. Nothing actively tried to stop them despite the visibly increased interest from the staff, and though both men were on edge, there was no sign of hostility from any side.

When they returned to the main courtyard, Hal observed that the for the most part, the area was unchanged, however, the lights were now on in the gift shop, and the doors open. An a-board outside declared in bold coloured letters that they should come in and purchase a souvenir to remember their stay. One brief glance through the door at a safe distance made it pretty clear to Hal that the kind of souvenirs they were offering was less than ideal.

Rows of jars on display contained strange, angry looking creatures in an assortment of shapes and colours. They were all around eight inches in size and were mostly comprised of teeth, eyeballs and claws connected together by what looked like organ or sinewy tissue. In the display directly beside that there lay an assortment of everyday items that had been modified to be more deadly than their average counterparts, for example an 'asbestos dust humidifier' and 'lead paint with added arsenic.' The display was titled 'affordable prices for the slow deaths of your enemies!' and there was some extra extra smallprint beneath that Hal couldn't quite make out without stepping over the threshold, something about handing over souls and/or bodies of victims.

“Own your very own interplanal horror?” murmured Lance, reading off the display above the jarred creatures.

“Thanks, I'll pass,” replied Hal. “I feel like opening those jars would release all sorts of unthinkable deaths on everyone present,”

“If they truly are interplanal then it solidifies the idea that these creatures that keep building the funtopia buildings are of the same persuasion.”

Hal nodded, “I agree. We have already experienced lifeforms that we knew weren't consistent with this slice of reality at the wondairport, but this clarifies things a bit. Maybe anyway.”

“You think we should bring one to Green as a sample?” asked the vampire.

“Well yeah absolutely except for one thing,” Hal pointed to the price tag of £500. “You bring your wallet with you?”

Lance shook his head, “No. Didn't want the management stealing my credit card as well as potentially my life. Perhaps if we return then.”

Hal nodded, “We should, however, not forget to grab some plant samples on the way out. Those are free, in theory.”

“In theory?”

Hal nodded, “Let's find out,” he headed back across the courtyard to the main area of plantlife, well aware of the many long, black fingers creeping around and between the shrubbery there. He reached out, and delicately took hold of the tip of a leaf, raising an eyebrow at the darkness of the overgrowth.

Almost immediately, there was an agitated scraping of nails on the trees that formed into a threatening cacophony. Hal released the tip of the leaf and it ceased. “Just looking,” he said, taking hold of the leaf again, properly this time, so he could pull it free if he wanted to. The angry scraping resumed, and he turned the leaf delicately in his hands. It looked and felt very normal, and was similar to the leaves of a Strelizia or bird of paradise plant, though this one had no distinguishing flowers. It was, however, unusual in colour. At the base where the leaf met the stem it began as a deep wine red, brightened to blazing orange around that, and at the tips of the leaf darkening to a warm yellow. None of these were normal colours for a Strelizia. The stem itself was charcoal black, but when Hal felt it, it was no more dry or burned to the touch than any other plant. On the contrary it felt like a normal, healthy plant.

As the angry rattling continued, Hal released the leaf gently, “See?” he said, to the woods, “No harm, just looking at it.” The angry sound ceased but Hal still somehow sensed that he was being closely observed, and he bent down to the ground, smiling as he saw a discarded, shed leaf there. He reached out and delicately touched the tip of this one. Nothing. No response this time. He drew it closer to himself. Still nothing. No angry sound, no scraping.

He took hold of the leaf and stood up, holding it. “I can have this one then?” Silence.

“I wish you would stop talking to them...” Lance muttered behind him.

“They seem to be civil as long as we are so let's not spoil that,” Hal replied through a fake smile, making his way along the line of trees and plants, scooping up whatever leaves and plant matter he found. He also took a small sample of the soil in a test tube he had brought along. Plenty of the long hands were around, but none of them seemed to take issue with him helping himself to the discarded matter as long as he wasn't going after anything alive.

Once he had enough, he backed up. “Alright, we going?”

Lance nodded. “I think we should,” he replied, his eyes glittering red once again as he looked at the treeline, and Hal could tell the vampire was intimidated by something he saw in there.

The two men backed up to the entrance gates of the park, took the 'exit' lane, and to their shock, were able to go through without being stopped. A gate stood preventing them from exit, but, like the prize booth, simply requested the return of their entrance coin.

Hal carefully took his from his pocket and slid it into the slot, and the gate opened. He stepped through, careful to keep his hands clear as it snapped violently shut after him, just the same as before. He stood and waited as Lance delicately took his coin out, wrapped in the handkerchief, and, careful not to touch, pushed it into the slot, granting him exit as well.

Together, they continued down the exit lane, both fully expected something to get in the way, or stop them, or even to drag them back once they walked out, but instead they found themselves back on the car park, glancing uncertainly at a brightly painted “Please come back soon!” sign.

All was quiet and calm.

“Everyone still here?” Hal asked, touching at his earpiece.

“Most of us are still in position Hal,” replied Green.

“Has there been any trouble?”

“Well, yes, but it's strange. Come back to base camp... you'll see.”

Hal sighed quietly, “Is there anything we ever deal with that isn't strange?”

“Sometimes,” replied Lance with a shrug as the two of them began to walk back towards the camp. “There was that one time we investigated a haunting and it turned out to be a family of raccoons living in the walls.”

Hal let out a warm little sigh, “West Monkhouse Farm. Early days. Simple times. You know, I always remember that one fondly because nobody got maimed or eaten. Just cute little racoons that needed to be put back into proper accommodations.”

“I think Brown was there wasn't he? He got bitten.”

Hal chuckled, “He sure did. Screamed a soprano about it too.”

They shared a smile and a chuckle before remembering themselves and their faces returned to being stony as they walked into the camp.

They entered the main briefing tent and Hal was relieved to see Kaplain and Sayer both there, and looking relieved to see him. “What happened?” he asked, seeing Green, their face twisted up in puzzlement.

“Well, you were right Hal. I don't know how you knew but you were absolutely correct. They showed up almost right away after you walked into the Bayou.”

“What exactly showed up though?”

“Five... entities made a swift appearance not far from the gates. The guards intercepted them, and utilised the stun weapons, and the planar anchor that you recommended.”

“O-kay...” Hal glanced around at the sombre faces, “I'm sensing a pretty large 'but' here...”

Green shook their head, “All five entities were secured in place, then one of them stood, looked directly at Gimble, the agent operating the planar anchor... it made a sound, this strange, grating sound, and he suddenly dropped it and all five vanished.”

Hal blinked, “He just dropped it?”

Green nodded, gesturing at the item on the table.

The planar anchor was an artefact that they had dug up somewhere in Lincolnshire, licenced by the ISMI for use in the capture of interplanar beings, it didn't really trap anything, all it did was emitted a frequency that seemed to screw up the ability to shift between planes in a limited space around it when active. Hal had suggested using it as a precaution, one that had clearly been justified.

“And... Gimble. Has he explained himself?”

“No... he can't.”

“Why?”

Green sighed, “Come see.” They stood and headed out of the tent to the medical tent, and Hal followed, puzzled, as he was let to a curtained off area. Inside it, being examined by a medic, was one of their guards. He was standing in full gear, his hands positioned as though he had been gripping something, no doubt the planar anchor, and his face was set in a look of determination, in the process of shifting to mild surprise but not there yet. But in his eyes, in the pupils, was a hollow pale glow that looked as though someone has put white LEDs behind them.

Hal tilted his head, “Well now. That's not very good is it.”

“No.” Agreed Green.

“Some kind of hypnotism...” murmured Lance, coming forwards and examining the face, “How long was he making eye contact with the entity?”

“About two seconds, at most,” Green replied.

“And they were able to do this?” the vampire seemed profoundly concerned by this. “It's hypnotism alright, but it's like they just paused his brain. I've never seen anything like it...”

“Can you... counter it?” asked Hal, knowing full well the vampire could hypnotise people.

“Maybe?” muttered Lance, circling around the man, “I can try?”

Hal looked at Green. “It's your party. You want the vampire to give it a shot?”

Green nodded, “Leaving someone like that is not acceptable if it can be fixed. Lance, please try your best. We'll go back to the briefing tent to give you some peace.”

Hal returned with Green to the main tent, pinching his brow, “I need coffee,” he muttered. “Did we at least get a good look at these entities?”

“The men report humanoid figures clad in strangely formal, ill fitted human clothing, with thin limbs and bodies, and, this is the strange part, no heads. Instead of heads they had oversized hats where their heads should be.”

Hal stared at Green, glad he didn't have coffee after all because he would likely have just done a spit take. “What?”

Green shrugged, “Five individuals with oversized hat heads. Each one with your reported silver compound eyes peering out just above the rim of the hat.”

“Do you... have any footage of this?” asked Hal.

“Take a look,” Green went to a laptop where one of the ISMI body cameras was plugged in, and pressed play on the footage.

It showed the area in front of the park as the guard ran across it towards what looked like an enormous blob of static. Floating in the static was several pairs of silvery glowing eyes. The closer the man got, the more corrupted the footage became until there was nothing other than flickering static and floating silver orbs, which, for some reason remained in perfect focus.

Hal put a hand on his stomach as Deacon moved, the small body tensing up and kicking at him. “Hal... that's them. That's the eyes.”

Hal gently rubbed at his friend, “Easy Blaine, they're gone for now... but they know we're waiting for them here and they're going to be more careful going forwards no doubt.”

“Indeed... we blew a chance to stop this,” Green lamented a little bitterly. “But we know they'll be back, that's why I left most of the teams in position.

Hal nodded, “That was a good move,” he glanced at Kaplain and Sayer. “Did you see anything?”

Kaplain shook his head, “No, we were out on the other side of the park with Earl and some of the guards, searching for a back way in they might use, just in case. There isn't one, by the way. So it's against fire code in addition to being evil.”

“How about you? I wasn't personally watching the latter part of your expedition,” Green looked at Hal.

“Awww, so you didn't get to see me feed Lance to a crocodile?”

“What?”

Hal chuckled, shaking his head, “Well, we won the challenge in the Bayou. Not a lot of choice there to be honest. It was a very much win-or-die arrangement in there. We got out and found a 'prize room' at the other side. It was, to my pleasant surprise, not full of body parts. In fact they had artefacts. Real ones. At least one of them was real anyway,” he glanced at the plastic goblet Lance had dropped on the table when he came in. “Some potentially not so much.”

Green raised an eyebrow and picked up the goblet. “Plastic?”

Hal nodded. “Lance's choice, not mine. After that we got out of there. You can see it all on the footage assuming my bodycam recordings didn't go strange.”

“Any threats?”

“All threats. Everything was a threat. I did get your plant samples though,” Hal laid these down on the table carefully. “And a soil sample.”

“What... did you get as your prize?” asked Sayer, looking curious.

“Well... that's an odd one,” Hal pulled back the sleeve of his jacket to reveal the tattoo. “I reached out to take something that looked like an intricately woven gauntlet of some kind and this is what I got,” he ran his fingers over it.

“A... tattoo?” Kaplain looked curious. “Just a tattoo?”

Neil came over, holding a hand out over the thing curiously, pressing it with gentle fingers. “No... no it's a lot more than just a tattoo.”

Hal nodded, allowing the young man to touch curiously for a moment before gently freeing his arm, “It does do something, watch,” he focused himself and summoned the first thing that came into his head, a small blade. After everyone had seen this, he let it return to his arm, then summoned the lock pick again, then a needle, then a spanner.

“It's incredible,” Neil commented, holding his hands out to touch it again, his fingers glittering with magic as he felt at the thing both physically and using his other senses. “It's like molten metal imbued with magic... does it come off?”

Hal shrugged, “I haven't tried to yet. It bloody hurt going on so I haven't tried to tear it off.”

“The institute will have to examine it properly,” Green scratched their head, “I haven't seen something like this before, but for now it seems at least it is in the hands of someone who won't misuse it.”

Hal nodded, “Right now, we have bigger problems.”

“You're going back into the park aren't you?” asked Kaplain, his eyes concerned but accepting.

Hal nodded. “Yes. We have to bait them out again. It worked before, we can try it a second time. But not today. I don't want to stay long enough to stray into closing times. We should get some rest, and ensure we keep up patrols and observations for them going again.”

Green nodded. “Of course. Why don't you go to the mess tent and get some food, then we can study the footage from your exploration while I run these plants through some tests.”

“Yes. Coffee. Soooo much coffee,” demanded Deacon. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- << First || Previous || Masterlist || Next >>

So. They survived the wonderpark. At least the first try.

But we all know Hal isn't going to call it quits there. Nope.

[llaberration]

I.S.M.I - Chapter Thirty Three.

“You're certain about this?” Lance stood beside Hal, an eyebrow raised. They were standing in the parking lot before the entrance, looking at the arched gates and brightly painted ticket booths of the wonderpark.

“Nope,” Hal set his jaw, “But something needs to bait those things in, and as long as everyone else is ready to catch them when they come, we'll have done our job.” They were dressed in the lighter version of the ISMI's protective gear, with cameras and headsets to record their progress and back-and-forth with basecamp.

The vampire grimaced a little bit, “I really do not like being titled as 'bait'...”

“Not a fan either,”

“You know you're probably going to die in there... right?”

Hal shrugged, “We all gotta die of something. If I do though, I've got one request,”

“Hm?”

“If you can, Get Deacon out of there when you run.”

Lance's cold eyes flicked over Hal, “As in...” he gestured at the man's stomach. “Cut him out?”

“If I'm dead, and I trust you to check that I am before you do, yeah. Not like I'll care any more, I'm basically meat at that point.”

“You're basically meat now,” muttered Lance, “The only difference is that you can still talk.”

“You know, between you and the werewolves you really do make me feel like a steak, you know that?”

Lance grinned, showing him a gleam of his single golden fang, “Don't tempt me. I've tasted your blood before,”

“Only the smallest drop during our fight. Always leave them wanting more.”

“Wasn't that quote from a conman?”

“A very successful one. Now. Are we doing this or are we standing here chatting?”

“Yes, please spare those of us who have to listen to your banter,” Green spoke over the headsets, “Lance is the only one here who isn't growing old so if you're going in, go.” Hal had requested, once they were inside, that the mission team outside not interrupt them by talking to them unless they were spoken to or had no choice. He knew that both he and the vampire would become distracted by chatter and activity if something happened, and that could cost them their lives in the park's games. But in fairness, they were not yet inside the park.

“Quick initial mission. In and out to see if anything shows up?” Lance glanced at Hal, who nodded.

Then, the two of them started to walk towards the gates.

The entrance was formed by a huge, wrought iron archway with the words 'Funtopia wonderpark' assimilated as part of the design. It looked a little old fashioned, but in a classical design sense rather than a dilapidated sense. It was all shiny and newly painted in bright kindergarten colours. A-boards proclaimed the themed areas and attractions that lay ahead, and a row of freshy painted ticket booths stood before them. There were railings designed to hold a queue, and Hal considered hopping over them, but given what he knew about this place, cutting in line might not be 'acceptable' so he filed down the winding s-shaped lines until he came to stand before the booths. Each one had a red light shining in the top of the glass panel that formed the window, and Hal frowned, looking about. Then he noticed two sets of shoe prints painted onto the floor at the front of the queue, and he pointed, “Lance, come stand here?” he suggested, stepping onto one set.

The vampire came forwards, taking the other, and as soon as his feet settled on the positions, the light at the far end booth, labelled 'booth 1' changed to green with ah audible ping.

The two men glanced at each other, then walked over to the booth. The glass that faced them was one-way, mirrored, and Hal's reflection observed him coldly for a moment before he cleared his throat. “Uh... one pair?” he asked. He glanced around to see if they were expected to pay, and raised an eyebrow as he looked at the price board that stated 'First entry is free for a pair! Second entry is £50 for a pair. Price doubles on every continued re-entry for that pair.'

“It's our first try,” he added to his previous statement.

There was a long pause, and some faint sounds behind the glass before a pair of metal objects clattered into the tray beneath the window. Hal blinked and carefully picked them up, wrinkling his nose as he found they were slightly damp to the touch and uncomfortably warm. He was holding two intricately carved coins, hollowed out in delicate, beautiful patterns that formed a skull made out of a strange, curling webbing. Around the edge, the writing stated 'mittere unus ad mortem' in delicate gothic writing. “Macabre,” he said quietly, “To send one to death.” One didn't last long in his line of work without making the time to learn Latin. It found its way into too many scriptures and documents to not know at least the basics. “This looks like silver... will you be okay holding yours?”

Lance frowned and leaned in close, reaching out the tip of one pale finger and brushing the edge of one coin. He hissed as it immediately let out a whiff of smoke, and withdrew his finger to suck on it. “Apparently not,” he said around his injured digit.

“Maybe I should hang onto them then...” Hal blinked as there was a loud tapping beside him and withdrew in disgust as he saw a four long, black, semi-transparent fingers, each the thickness of a banana and at least two feet long had emerged from around the sides of the window and were drumming against a sign, long dirty nails tapping the wood. “Oh... 'All guests must have their entry token on them at all times or they will be taken by staff'...” he frowned, then reached out and snatched the delicately folded red handkerchief from Lance's waistcoat pocket. “Hey!” the vampire objected but Hal held up a hand as he wrapped one of the coins up in the thing and then put it back in the pocket. “There. As long as you don't touch it, and we remember to take it out, you'll be fine.”

“Ugh,” the vampire plucked slightly at the pocket, visibly uncomfortable at the close proximity, but Hal shrugged.

“If you'd rather let the staff have a crack at you be my guest, but we've met the staff at these establishments and trust me, you don't want that,” he paused and leaned towards the window of the booth, where the fingers had now withdrawn leaving a trail of grey slime. “No offence,” he added.

Then, they began to walk into the park.

The space opened out into a courtyard with elaborate patterns in the brickwork, fractal spirals and webs, like those that made up the skull on the coin. Before them lay a large billboard that contained a beautifully illustrated map of the park and a road that split two ways around what looked like a jungle, but the leaves of the vegetation was all reds and oranges with black stalks and trunks where green and brown should have been.

“Get me samples of some of those plants if you can Hal,” Green came over the headset.

“Going to check out the map first,” Hal looked left and right, taking in two buildings beside the gate, one on each side. One looked closed up and declared itself to be the gift shop, and the other had a window like the admissions booths and declared itself to be 'information.'

Hal looked at the map, then left and right down the roads. “You want to go left or right?”

Lance rubbed his chin as he looked at the map, “First attraction on the left is Buccaneer Bayou. If we go right we get...” he craned his neck. “Two options, Tinytown or Dinosaur Delve.”

Hal wrinkled his nose. “I feel like Dinosaurs gives them too much license to feed us to a t-rex...”

“And I worry that tiny town might be something to do with bugs...” Lance frowned at the map.

Hal saw no indication of that, as Tinytown was illustrated like an old fashioned medieval town, but the vampire had a point that was possible. “But Buccaneer Bayou... offers the possibility of both pirates, alligators, snakes... I don't like that either.”

“I think I'll take alligators over bugs,”

“Really? Really? You're scared of bugs? You?”

Lance scowled, “If you'd ever handled 0054 in any significant capacity you'd be a bit squicked by them as well.”

“Ohh, Bone termites,” Hal nodded sagely. “Enough said. Okay. No tinytown for now just in case then. And no t-rex so... unless we want to hike on towards ghoul grotto, ape alp, mystic moor, or waterfall wilds.”

Lance shook his head. “No. Let's not go any deeper in than we need to. Let's go look at the bayou and at least see what the rules are shall we?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Hal nodded, “I wish we could take the map with us, that would make life easier...”

“I have the aerial scans but they're not as good...” admitted Deacon.

Both men tensed as they heard a loud drumming sound, and turned to see another horrifying set of fingers emerging from the window by the information booth, tapping loudly on the frame. These looked the same as the ones in the entry booth... too massive and too long with lumpy grey-black skin and overlong nails.

Once they were both looking, the fingers withdrew, and then emerged holding a neatly folded pamphlet between thumb and forefinger and Hal, curiously, sidled over. “Oh! It's a more detailed version of the map!” he said, reaching out and delicately pinching the bottom of the thing. “Thank you, you're horrifying, I appreciate you,” he said to the fingers as they slid back into the darkness. He wiped the map on his sleeve as the outer sides had a light coating of slime.

“You just... walked up... to what is probably a monster... and took a pamphlet from it,” Lance stared at him. “Do you want to die?”

Hal shrugged, “So far they've been nothing but polite, so as long as we follow the rules I have no reason to think that'll change,” he grinned, “Besides, you're the one with the 'that's dangerous' senses. I trust you'd have stopped me if you thought that was a predator.” The truth was he was getting the hang of that himself now but Lance didn't need to know that.

“Well yes but I'm not exactly comfortable with them either,” muttered the vampire as Hal moved away, giving a little wave to the window. “Alright... Deacon you want to get a good scan of this so you can help us navigate?” Hal unfolded the map and held it up in front of his bodycam.

“Wait one second, move it back a little more... perfect, keep it still like that.... got it.”

Hal smiled, pocketing the map and gently stroking at his friend as he started to walk, taking the fork towards Buccaneer Bayou. Lance fell in step with him and they both walked ahead slowly, watching their surroundings. Occasionally Hal would feel his skin crawl as he would see long, creepy fingers disappear from a railing or around a tree ahead of them... the staff were definitely watching them and he sure did not appreciate it one bit. He even noticed Lance moving a little closer to his side. As much as the two of them did not see eye to eye, they needed to co-operate here, and Hal knew they could cope with it.

Soon, the two of them stood before the stylised wooden arches of 'Buccaneer Bayou.' Half of the arch was made up of the front of a galleon, and the other was a twisting mass of roots and wood that wound their way up to form the 'bayou' part of the name while the other was simply printed in gold lettering on the galleon's bow. An eerie, creeping mist that lay just above ground level was curling out through the arch, little tendrils swirling as if to grasp their ankles. “They really went all out didn't they. I wish I fuckin knew why... why all this effort... it's the one thing still completely escaping me,” muttered Hal. “Come on, there's the ruleboard.”

Set central on the other side of the arch sat a ruleboard a lot like the main one but done out in wooden, old fashioned stylings to match the theme.

Buccaneer Bayou!

AHARRR MATEY WELCOME TO BUCCANEER BAYOU! SWORDS AT THE READY AND MAN THE CANNONS!

Buccaneer Bayou game rules:

1. The pirates have been through, and there be treasure, but they've hidden it real well! Yarr!

2. Make yer way through the Bayou to find the hidden treasure cave!

3. The bayou be a place of many dangers! Avoid the pirates they left on guard and the killer Gators! Even the trees can get ornery so be sure'n you got yer wits about you!

4. Fall prey to the dangers, or fall in the water an yer ours!

(Reminder: Park rules remain in effect in all areas.)

Hal read all of this out, being sure to add the visibly required pirate accent, while Lance stared at him like he was growing an extra head. “What are you doing?”

Hal sighed a little bit, leaning in close to the vampire. “How are you not aware yet, that we are here to put on a show. These fucking things love people's suffering, and take delight in this overly elaborate torture method they've cooked up. We can't give them blood but we can give them a show so could you please give me something to work with?”

“He's right,” added Deacon, through the earpieces they both wore. “These things take a lot of pleasure in what they do. Trust me. Put on a show and they'll be here.”

The vampire let out a disgusted sigh and nodded, “Alright, if you really believe it will help. I'm not doing an accent though.”

Hal peered ahead of them, into the artificial Bayou, but they were clearly running some kind of fog machines, because it was genuinely difficult to see far. What he could see was a dank, misty lake surrounded by tall, long rooted trees. They looked tightly packed together, like a maze, and there was a path through the water formed by rocks, clumps of grass and mud, and the occasional floating log. There were bayou ambience sounds like frogs, bugs and gentle sloshing, “Alright,” he sighed, “Let's get this over with, unless you've changed your mind on one of the others.”

“No. I'll still take this over a t-rex,” the vampire began to walk towards the entrance. “So no falling in and no getting caught, all we have to do is find a treasure cave.”

“Yeah. But remember they won't make it easy. It won't be impossible but it'll be designed to be difficult, they want you to fail.”

“Well. They didn't plan for a vampire,” the man stuck his chest out a little and strolled up to the starting point, marked with a sign and a small wooden dock.

“We should stick together, so don't do anything too wild.”

Lance scoffed a little, moving forwards. “I thought you wanted a show? Try and keep up,” he grinned, his gold fang glittering as he stepped to the edge of the dock to take the first step onto a stone, and the plank at the end of the dock promptly collapsed.

Hal quickly grabbed the vampire's arm and dragged him backwards so he didn't actually get wet, then chuckled. “Remember. Tricky, they want you to fail.”

Lance drew a breath as he rebalanced himself, then nodded. “Thank you.”

Hal nodded, and gestured for the man to continue, and the vampire did as indicated.

They started to move, hopping cautiously from one stone to the next. Lance was much more careful now, testing each one with a press of the foot before hopping onto it, ensuring they were safe to support them. Some of the stones would slowly sink the longer someone stood on them, but as neither man had any intention of hanging out for a long while, this was not a problem. They made their way down a narrow waterway surrounded on all sides by towering trees that formed a canopy above them, keeping the mist trapped in the narrow space.

Soon enough though, it opened up into a much more open space, the 'proper' bayou. It was a murky lake probably twenty metres by twenty metres, with many small 'paths' like theirs disappearing off into the sides between the trees. In many places, the water rippled and bubbled with movement beneath the surface, showing underlying threat waiting at every turn.

“Well. I don't like that one bit,” muttered Lance, his eyes glittering a shade of red as he observed the water. “There's life forms down there.”

“They did say there'd be Alligators and guard pirates,”

“Mhmm, I think we'd best stay well away from any of the paths they're lurking near,”

“Agreed. Well you can see them better than me, so you pick a direction, I'll follow.”

Lance nodded, and Hal patted his stomach, “Deacon, you got your drone around?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah I was just keeping an eye out at the entrance of the Bayou to make sure nothing joined us. What do you need?”

“I need your eyes helping us search for this so called treasure cave that marks the win. I'd keep the drone well clear of the water though, there's a lot of potential for lurking trouble.”

“On it.”

Lance gave him a nod, and the two of them started to move through the Bayou. After a minute or two, there was a buzzing as Deacon's drone zipped past them and went off to explore the space.

Lance picked the first of the turnings on the right, and they began to make their way down a winding little path of stepping stones and logs. A short ways down, not far out of sight of the main Bayou, it revealed itself to be a dead end, and they turned back, Hal taking the lead for a little bit. However, before they got back to the main area, he stopped on one of the stones, holding out a hand. “Lance... look. Did that... look like that before?”

Lance peered around him from the stone behind and frowned, “No... no it did not.”

They were both looking at a stepping stone. It was grey in colour, slimy and smoother than the others... it looked almost vascular. Hal frowned, leaning down to pluck a small stone from the side of the one on which he stood, and he flicked that across at the strange rock.

The pebble hit with a damp sound, and immediately, the rock moved, coming alive. Rising out of the water before them was a grey-pink monstrosity. Like a bloated corpse with the eyes of a fish, the creature emerged, covered in mud and slime from the water. Its mouth, decorated unevenly with flat, blocky teeth, hung open and a horrible gurgling sound came out. In one hand was a rusted cutlass, and in the other a fleshy looking rope that was visibly studded with sharp teeth. They had even made the effort of adding a badly fitted eyepatch and bandana to the 'pirate.' It moved towards them with an angry sound, and Hal glanced around for escape routes. “Someone took a wrong turn at Innsmouth...” Behind them was a dead end, into the water wasn't an option. Had to be a way to win... this was a game after all, and he was the god of games...

“We can't fight here, follow me,” he said to Lance, keeping his gaze away from the vampire so he didn't see the glimmer of yellow in Hal's eyes. He made a move to his left, as though he was going to try and leap past the creature onto the next stone along, and when it moved to block him, he threw himself right instead, into the treeline separating the two spaces. He grabbed onto the trunk of the tree and used the long roots to stand on, to keep himself out of the water. Once he had a good grip, he lunged forwards, between the trees and back into the main area, where he made a leap back onto one of the stones there. Lance followed him in a silent, graceful sweep, and landed neatly beside him. “Nice move.”

“Thank you,” Hal grinned, “I just think we should avoid fisticuffs where possible, I don't like my chances of not falling in the water.”

“Good, now let's move before it figures out how to follow us,” Lance darted off once more across the rocks, still surprisingly spry in his suit despite the added weight of the ISMI protective gear.

“Any luck Deacon?” asked Hal as he followed the vampire.

“No... the mist keeps getting on my camera lens and forcing me up to the canopy to clear it,”

“Don't get frustrated with it,” Hal gave him a gentle squeeze. “Stay calm, stay systematic. You got this.”

“Thanks Hal.”

“If you're done chatting with dinner, do you hear that?” asked Lance.

Hal frowned, pausing to listen. Over the sloshing of the bayou and the gurgling growls from the one pirate that had surfaced, he could definitely hear something. It wasn't an entirely regular sound, a loud, hollow thudding noise that sounded like something slimy striking something equally slimy. Hard. “I don't like the sound of that,” he muttered. “Sounds big,”

“Sounds like it's well ahead and on the left somewhere,”

“Let's avoid it for now. Deacon if you find something that might be making a loud thudding, let us know,”

“Got it.”

The two of them moved once again, Lance leading the way. They followed bending little streams that twisted and intertwined around the space, always on the lookout for trouble. There were 'gators' that would hiss and snap at them from time to time between the stones, but seemed more placed to scare than actually hurt them. They weren't like any gator or croc species Hal had seen though. They were the right size but their lumpy hide was blood red and spiky, and their teeth were much longer and sharper than real gators. Mostly the creatures just snapped for their ankles and made grabs for them when they were jumping between rocks, but they seemed to be geared for scare tactics over actually being dangerous. Perhaps the games got harder towards the back of the park because this all seemed very tame to Hal. Then again, Lance and he were not really average fare. A normal bloke in this place would probably have fallen in by accident by this point, or when the pirate had come after them.

The problem was, the more they moved around, the more creatures were drawn to them. The pirates persistently, if slowly, followed them through the swampy water, making slashes with their rusty weapons, and occasionally even swinging their toothy ropes like lassos, trying to snag a limb. The longer they were here, the more things they had after them.

“I found the source of your noise,” said Deacon, as they came to another dead end.

“Yeah?”

“It's a giant alligator.”

Hal frowned, glancing at Lance, “Giant... how giant?”

“Don't panic, I think it's an animatronic. But it's snapping its jaws... that's the sound.”

Hal frowned, “Weird, why is that there? And why hide it?”

“Just as a jumpscare?” suggested Lance.

Hal grimaced, “I don't know... surely if it were that, they wouldn't have concealed it. Deacon can you send a picture of it to my phone?” his instincts were telling him this was part of the game and not just scenery.

“Sure.”

A moment later, Hal's phone buzzed and he slid it out of its waterproof pocket to look at the picture, “Yup, yup...” he muttered, his eyes glittering once again as he used his abilities as a god of games to 'sense' whether there was more to the image. “That's where we have to go.”

“What?” Lance frowned, leaning over to look at the phone. “Are you sure?”

Hal nodded, “That's the place. Not sure how yet. Deacon, which way is it?”

There was a buzz overhead as the drone zipped around, getting its bearings, then Deacon answered. “Go straight ahead, at the edge of the main area there's an alcove, go there, then there's a narrow gap into a little passageway, it's down there.”

“Sneaky buggers,” muttered Hal, as Lance began to move in the stated direction.

They had to dodge another gurgling pirate on the way, this one swinging its lasso at Hal's neck, trying to get a grip on the man. Fortunately Lance saw it in time and deflected the unsettlingly fleshy rope to splat harmlessly into the water. Hal had been right. The vampire had been the right person to bring with him for this.

They swiftly pushed through the bayou into the alcove, clambered through towards the sound of the alligator's jaws clamping together. “Why are we going towards the dangerous maybe-animatronic again?” asked Lance as he led the way.

“Because it's part of the game somehow. Trust me.”

“How could you know that?”

“Can't tell you,”

“Why not?”

“Because I have no idea. Call it a hunch.”

They hopped around a narrow bend and came face to face with the massive, reptillian maw, which was frighteningly large. The huge head was at least six metres from the tip of its nose to where it disappeared into the trees at the neck.

For an animatronic it did look very realistic. It observed them silently with one yellow, beady eye, its red, spiky skin gleaming wetly in the dim light of the bayou. The jaws opened revealing a threateningly slick pink cavern that disappeared into pitch darkness at the back, and then they snapped shut with an eyewatering pop that Hal was pretty confident would detach a limb if it were between the teeth. “Yup... it's what I suspected,” he said, leaning forwards a little to examine their find.

“What is?”

Hal was about to answer when there was a loud gurgle from behind them, and they realised two of the pirates were squeezing through the gap from the main bayou, swinging their swords aggressively. “No time to explain!” he said, and bodily shoved Lance into the jaws as they opened up again before leaping in after the man.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

<< First || Previous || Masterlist || Next >>

Sorry it's a bit late! Holidays are a bit intensive in my line of work, so I didn't get a chance to get this one edited until today.

[llaberration]

I.S.M.I - Chapter Thirty Two.

“Eyup, we reckon that's how the mall and other sites appeared so fast,” Earl's cheerful voice narrated beside Hal.

The biologist was standing in ISMI Containment site 42, staring down into a warehouse sized containment space through a series of large one-way windows. He was clutching a cup of coffee, jetlagged and exhausted, but once again sober and with only one occupant. Deacon had spent most of the flight using his tablet to teach Feffin about different kinds of music and television, and the dragon hadn't stopped talking about sports since being released. They were at a safehouse with Doc right now, and Hal had no doubt that the dragon was forcing Olander to watch hours on end of Wimbledon tennis history. He hoped they were enjoying themselves, they had earned it.

He on the other hand was staring in disbelief at what was before him. The mushroom men had been gently capured and moved to a facility with optimal humidity and ventilation for study and analysis. Once in this environment and convinced they were safe, they had proceeded to grow massive amounts of mushrooms on the walls and floors, which they were deconstructing to form into components for buildings. Elaborate ones. By some process he hadn't seen before, they would farm certain kinds of mushroom, harvest them, and then break them down into a cement-like material that they formed into bricks and blocks, for stacking and building. But by varying the process, they seemed to be able to form the mushrooms into almost anything, including a glasslike substitute. So far they had built multiple small, oddly shaped residence style buildings around the walls, and were in the process of adding additional floors to these. “You're saying they built the Funtopia structures?” exclaimed Hal, blue eyes staring in confusion, trying to fit this into the limited facts that they had about the buildings.

“That's our current theory,” Earl shrugged, his grin bemused but somehow pleased with itself.

The massive, mushroom like guard beast was patrolling the space, and the huge mushroom from the cave once more occupied the centre of this room. Moving it had clearly been a hell of a job, and it did seem to be damaged in a few places from the process, but lived on, glowing ominously in the half-dark of the room.

“They stop and rest for about two hours out of every twelve but other than that they just build and build,” Earl shook his head, standing with his hands on his hips just looking down at the creatures. “The scientists don't know if they should be amazed or terrified. They seem to be able to do anything with these things. They've got lighting, electricity... but no source for it, it seems to come from the mushroom components. We're getting samples from the known funtopia builds to compare but... it seems likely these guys, or groups of this species built them.”

“But why?” Hal shook his head, “What they're building now isn't anything like that. None of it looks designed to kill... looks more like an alcoholic avant-garde architect did acid with Tim Burton and they created a project together.”

Earl nodded, “We've theorised pretty roundly now that these guys aint workin' alone for the funtopia builds. They don't seem to wish any real harm on nobody. Our best theory is that the guy they took approached them in a threatening manner, and they will defend themselves against aggression. But you can go in there, walk around with them, they won't attack as long as you don't seem like you're going to hurt them...”

“What about the big guy?” Kaplain pointed to the patrolling mushroom capped beast.

“Ah, That there's a bit of a different matter,” chuckled Earl, “They're a little... uh... protective over their two legged children,”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, if they notice anyone down there that aint one o theirs, they'll go right for them. Get real nasty too. Lance nearly got stomped the shit out of when they wanted him to go in and take some samples,”

Hal chuckled in genuine cathartic amusement at this. “Well. I can sympathise. Sometimes I want to stomp the shit out of him too.”

Earl laughed and punched him in the arm, “Aww come on now he aint that bad. 'Sides, he's got a lead for us! Remember you had the nerds were working on a theory? An al-go-rithm to find where a site might pop up next?”

“Yeah...”

“Well, they put it to that new computer genius guy they have. And I'll be damned if he didn't finish it, polish it, and drop out a list of ideal locations. So we been sending out teams with drones to check em.”

Hal blinked, “Computer genius guy? You mean Desmond?!”

“Yeah, once he was scanned and analysed and determined to be for the most part human they put him right to work on hypotheticals, and from what I understand that fucked-up brain of his is able to do some pretty remarkable things!”

Hal grimaced, “Seems a bit early to have him working on ISMI cases like that but-”

“Yeah when I say hypotheticals I mean he's not allowed to really know much more than what he already knows but he already knew about the Funtopia sites... pretty intimately from what I understand. He was locked up in one and all that...”

“Yeah,” Hal shook his head. “But he's still confined right?”

“Oh yeah. He's locked up on level four risk at the moment 'til they figure out what he's all about. But desperate times and all that.” Earl chuckled and gave a helpless shrug, clearly no more inclined to question management decisions than he ever had been.

“Been pushing on ahead without us I see.”

Earl shrugged, “We wanted somethin' solid for ya when you got back, and y'know, we sure do have it.”

“Yeah?”

Earl nodded, “We found a half-built site. A funtopia site. Some kind of factory by my estimation. Branded and everything but not done. We been watching them work on it, a group just like these, but more o' them...” he gestured at their captured group of mushroom men. “And guess who else keeps swingin' by?”

“Pu-lease tell me it's our friend the weird shaped head, compound eye guy?”

“It sure is.”

Hal grinned broadly. “Alright, all is forgiven. Do we have a plan of any kind? An idea what the next move will be?”

“Research want the site observed, but they're scrapping about it with a few of the directors who want it stopped, y'know, before it starts killin people.”

“I can see where the latter are coming from,” Hal nodded.

“Aye, meanwhile we're still checking out the other possible locations for other finished or half-built funtopias.”

Hal nodded, sipping his coffee, “So, what do you want us to jump in with?”

“Oh I saved the best for last,” chuckled Earl, offering him a file.

Hal blinked, taking the file and flipping through it curiously, “Oh no... you been holding out on me... I feel like you should have mentioned this first...”

Kaplain and Sayer both came and peered over Hal's shoulder, and both stared in shock at what they saw. “That's... absolute madness... how can something like that appear without anyone noticing?” exclaimed Kaplain.

“The same way the others all did,” Earl gestured down into the containment again, where the mushroom men were building contentedly. “These guys work fast.”

Rather than a single building with a sign this time, what Hal was looking at, depicted in aerial view from above, was a park. Not a ducks and ponds park, an amusement park. There were visibly separated areas connected with winding paths, a massive parking lot at the front, large gates and many internal buildings. The place was huge, at least 125 acres, but guessing its size accurately was tough. “Has anyone made entry yet?”

“No manned missions have gone in yet. We only found it yesterday, Green is, of course, on site now, setting up a mission base on the south end of the car park. So far, only drones and unmanned observation vehicles have been allowed in.”

Hal chuckled, “You mean toy cars with cameras taped on?”

Earl shrugged, “It's a good cost saver,”

“What have they found so far? Have any locals gotten in?” asked Sayer, worried.

“Not that we are aware of, the place has very well built fencing all around its perimeter, and even CCTV cameras that appear to be motion activated, who or what is watching them though... we don't know.”

“Any signs of life?”

“Not that we've managed to observe, but we haven't managed to get the drones into the buildings anywhere yet, and all windows are one-way so we can't be certain. Thermal scans haven't been possible yet because we just haven't had time to get the hardware on site yet. Hopefully tonight we'll get some clearer readings.”

Hal set his jaw, nodding. “I'm guessing this is where we're being sent then?”

Earl gave him a broad grin, “Sure are. They've got two vans already kitted out and waiting. You guys go claim one and whatever else you need and we'll meet you there tomorrow morning once Lance gets done with his paperwork here.”

The three (technically four) men departed, going briefly to check their supplies and to ensure Hal had the right kind of drone for Deacon and plenty of coffee, then they went to claim the van and get on the way. They were all jetlagged and tired, and Hal hoped they got a chance to squeeze in a night of proper sleep before any serious investigating. He felt a little jealous of Blaine, settled snugly in his own private heated space, sprawled out snoring gently into his headset. Alright for some.

It wasn't a massively long drive, a couple of hours, but once they reached the site, after going to greet Green and get an initial briefing, Hal insisted his team all went to get their heads down and sleep for a few hours. It was not late into the night, very early for bed in fact, but he wanted them at their best for what lay ahead.

He paused only for a brief walk around the car park, examining what they could see at the very front. It looked very much like a normal theme park. Brightly coloured signs and bold imagery. “The FUNTOPIA WONDERPARK.” It declared itself to be. “It's bigger, it's better! We've upsized and so have our prizes! Bigger games, higher stakes, and MORE FUN! So if you think you're special enough to win! Come on in!” He puzzled over this as he read and reread the sign over the main entrance. Everything before had just encouraged people in in general, but this seemed more insistent. More pushy. Baiting people. And it was the first mention of people who thought they were special enough. A strange phrasing in his opinion. Were they just baiting for as many people as possible to give it a try or were they trying to specifically tempt a certain demographic.

He had a feeling this place merely existing was a sign that the 'owners' were getting bolder. Something this big and grandiose sent a message. It said, in no uncertain terms, that they thought they did not need to hide what they were doing, and did not believe they could or would be stopped. As such, Hal knew it was not worth risking their safety being foolhardy, and he herded Kaplain and Sayer to bed regardless of their admittedly limited objections. He instructed Green to wake them if anything happened or Lance arrived early, but otherwise let them get a few hours of sleep. They had earned it.

Hal was quite contentedly snoozing in his bunk when a sharp little kick woke him abruptly. He tensed, glancing around for an attacker or source of what had woken him but there was nothing. The van was dim and peaceful. So... what...? He felt another sharp little thud against his liver and became aware of Deacon's small form tensing up against him. He could hear a sleepy mumbling over the earpiece... was the man dreaming?

“Deacon?” he said quietly, not wanting to wake the others. There was no answer, the small form writhed a little, and he heard a fearful intake of breath. Hal gently pressed at the small body, trying not to squash him. “Deacon wake up.”

The man mumbled a frightened few nonsense sounds, kicking again.

“Deacon, you're dreaming,” Hal became a little more insistent with his rubbing and the tiny man suddenly gasped, his muscles jerking in an abrupt motion, causing him to sit up and bump his head in the restricted space. “Deacon?” Hal spoke gently.

“Hal,” the little voice was hoarse, “That you?”

Hal gently pressed at his friend. “Of course, what's wrong?”

“Can I have some water?”

“Sure, one second.” Hal wriggled himself out of the bunk and went to the kitchen, pouring some cooled water from the tap and drinking it in slow mouthfuls.

“Thanks...”

“You okay? Did you have a bad dream?”

“Yeah... yeah I...” the man exhaled, “I was remembering again. Walking back up to one of the funtopia sites like this... brings it back.”

“I'm sorry,” Hal gently stroked at the small body. “Are you ready to talk about it? We never did discuss what was coming back. We never got a chance...”

The small man was quiet for a time, and Hal did not push him. He sat down at the table to quietly and gently stroke at the small body, waiting.

“It... it was bad Hal... I remember almost everything... I-I don't... there's some things I don't want to talk about but... I can give you the basics.” He paused again for a slow breath, then started. “Once I fell into the ballpit, there was something in there with me. Something dark, semi-transparent with big, staring eyes. I've realised since that it looked a lot like wondairport security. But without a hat. It had these long, creepy hands and it reached up for me from below, so fast I barely had time to react. As soon as it touched me, I blacked out.

I woke up somewhere else... presumably beneath the mall, it was dirty and smelt damp, like underground, and coppery. There was... so much blood. They had machines, extracting things from bodies, making things out of them. It was a butcher's shop of nightmares... I spotted that Dr Henderson was there too but he was unconscious, and we were just... kind of laying in a pile of abandoned clothing I think, tied up. There were... things there. They looked like men but they were too skinny and moved like puppets, jerky movements. They had these ugly, stained suits on, and hats that covered their entire head except the eyes... those odd, rounded, silvery eyes. They took me away from Henderson before they did anything to him and brought me to this... glowing chamber of some kind. I couldn't see it properly, but they dumped me into it it and there was this... incredible flash of light and pain. I don't remember much after that until I woke up in the arcade.

I... didn't know I was small at first. I couldn't see very well at first, it was dark and there were only flashing lights, and that container blurred what I could see but... I knew there were dead people in the tubes next to mine. I knew I was going to die like them. I tried to escape, tried to break the cylinder or lift the lid but I was weak from whatever had happened, and I just... couldn't. So I sat down and I... waited to die. I knew I was both lucky and unlucky. On one hand I avoided some of the horrible things I saw them doing to people under the mall. On the other... I got to slowly die of thirst, alone and cold in a plastic coffin.”

There was a long silence, and Hal gently sat stroking at his friend's side, letting him speak, not interrupting, he knew Deacon had more to say and he would do so when he was ready.

“Then I saw the team. I don't know how long I had been there but it felt like days... I saw movement outside and started to jump and wave... I didn't even know for sure it was friendly but it was something and by some miracle you spotted me... and you know the rest of the story.”

Hal, sensing this was his time to speak, gently continued to stroke with light fingers at the small body as he said. “And you were dreaming about it again?”

“Yeah, something about being here, this close to another one... brought it all back again.”

“Are you... worried about being here? Do you want to go back and stay with Doc and the dragons instead? Don't kill me for asking, I know you've made your position clear but nobody will think less of you for sitting this one out if it's too much.”

“No Hal. I am afraid but this is my job. I'm here to do it. I will see an end to this no matter what. Nobody else needs to go through this and I want to make sure that they don't. Don't you dare try and make me leave for my own safety.”

Hal nodded, “Hey, it's okay. I wasn't saying I'm going to send you away, you know I respect your decision. I just had to make sure that was still your decision, okay? If this is the way you want it, we're in this together.”

The small man relaxed slightly under his fingertips now, and he felt the tiny chest shift with a heavy yawn. “Thanks Hal.”

Hal stood, and slowly made his way back to his bunk, hoisting himself up into it and gently folding himself in among the blankets. “See if you can get a bit of sleep,” he said gently, “Don't let the nightmares get to you, you're safe.”

Blaine snuggled down against him in a gentle, but oddly powerful little motion, and went still.

Hal lay and quietly waited until he could feel the man's breaths steadying into a calm rhythm of sleep, focusing himself on the task that lay ahead and how exactly they were going to do it. His eyes glittered faintly in the darkness as he realised what he was looking at was a hunt... a hunt for something unknown and dangerous, and there was a good chance that he was going to have to utilise his new abilities if he wanted to achieve this without losing anyone.

They managed to squeeze in a decent amount of sleep before Green came knocking to let them know Lance and Earl were en-route to site. It was early, the first fingers of dawn just starting to creep across the sky as Hal quickly roused the sleepy but less so now team, and they scraped together some food and caffeine to wake themselves before heading out to see what had been discovered on site overnight.

Green, as calm and cool as ever, explained the layout they had thus far discovered, and showed them the initial images, thermal scans, aerial footage and drive-throughs that they had done. It looked, for all intents and purposes, like a perfectly normal amusement park. Only cleaner and devoid of all guests.

“Have you found a ruleboard?” asked Hal curiously, “Every other site has had rules.”

“Well, there's good and bad news on that one,” said the doctor, bringing up a series of still images on the monitor before them. “We have indeed found ruleboards. The bad news is we have found a lot of them.”

Hal stared at the screen, taking in what he was seeing and glancing at the map. “One for each area?”

“And one for the park itself,” sighed Green, tapping one image in particular. “It seems they are operating on a 'zone' system. Each zone has its own 'prizes' offered and its own challenges stated. The park has an overall set of rules posted outside on the main gate that apparently cover all zones in addition to their regional rule sets.”

Hal brought the main image up larger, glancing at it. That was the familiar branded writing sure enough.

FUNTOPIA WONDEPARK.

It's bigger, it's better! We've upsized and so have our prizes! Bigger games, higher stakes, and MORE FUN!

PARK RULES!

1. Do not interfere with staff or they will interfere with you.

2. Each zone represents one 'game.' One attempt per game permitted per day. Second attempts will be stopped by staff.

3. Buddy system at all times. Pairs only. Groups of pairs permitted but a designated 'pair' must always remain together. Anyone without a buddy must exit the park before being caught by staff.

4. One prize per person per game, so two per pair. No returns if you don't like what you pick.

5. Open hours are 8-6. Do not stay past closing.

6. Possessions found without an owner will be confiscated.

7. If you lose a game or get caught by staff, we get to keep you.

(Please note in addition to the base park rules each zone has its own rule set posted at the entrance. These rules must also be noted and followed if you want to win. Park rules remain in effect in all areas.)

Come back and play as many times as you want and have a super happy fun visit!

Hal rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Do we have any idea what 'prizes' are here?” he asked.

“No. Each 'zone' looks like it has a 'prize zone' at the end furthest from the entrance, but they appear to be secure buildings, and we haven't managed to get into any of those yet,”

“And... no sightings of 'staff?'”

“No. Hopefully not the same security as the airport though...” Green visibly shivered, shaking their head. “Those were... unpleasant.”

“Did we ever get a clear idea of what they were anyway?”

“Not fully. But a sample we managed to get with some... specialist equipment showed us their molecules were not vibrating at a rate consistent with our dimension.”

“Oh brilliant. Alter-or-inter-dimensional beings,” Hal sighed, “We do not have a good track record with them.”

“No. No we don't. And the other creatures, the ones that appeared only during the blackouts showed the same trait. Wherever they come from, or go back to... it's the same place consistently.”

Hal nodded, “So whatever... whoever is designing these places does not have to play by the rules of our dimension all the time, which explains how they can take people in the blink of an eye.”

“They also have some means of communicating with the mushroom men, getting them to do what they say,” Kaplain observed, frowning.

“And some considerable knowledge and use of technology we don't remotely understand,” Blaine added over their earpieces.

Hal tilted his head, “You think?”

“I'm sure. Remember the device I was telling you about? The one they put me in to do... this? That was technology, no doubt, it hummed like it had power running through it.”

“He's right,” Sayer added, “What they did to him... they did with something other than magic, because it's still there. Remember I couldn't fix him permanently because it's something that still remains in place now. I could only arrange a temporary counter for it. It's not... correct with our understanding of how anything works.”

“So. Technology, alter-dimensional beings, co-operation with other creatures, gods know what else, and a nasty nastysense of humour,” Hal summarised. “Nothing we have ever dealt with has ticked all those boxes at once... and it has to be stopped.”

“What do you propose Hal?” asked Green.

“I think we all know that these things, whatever they are, like to enjoy their 'work.' They have been seen near and around multiple sites, and even interacting with victims in the case of Deacon. What we need to do is draw their attention to the little game and then catch them out. We need to send in a team to play their game, give them their entertainment, to draw them out. While that's going on, literally everyone else needs to be on the lookout for them to show themselves outside or inside the site. The minute they do, we need to react.”

“The particular 'they' you mean here are your bug-eyed folks?” asked Green for clarity.

“Yes. I mean. I don't know if it's reasonable or not but I've been kind of assuming that they're the ones in charge here.”

“Interesting theory.”

“We've no better lead,” Hal shrugged. “Maybe those are just more staff but... they way they watch, the way we see them circulating around every part of this nonsense. I think they're the big player in all this. And I think we need to get our hands on one.”

“That seems foolhardy,” Green sighed, “But it is clear our methods of study are not catching us any perpetrators... maybe it is time for foolhardy. Who do you intend to send on this certain death mission?”

“Only those I believe can get through it,” Hal sighed, “I won't lose more people to these bastards. I have a gift for games and winning them, I am a logical choice.”

“I thought you'd say that,” Green nodded, “but who else? You can't go in alone and I doubt the 'buddy system' will accept your 'unique' circumstances.”

“No, but I know someone who is already technically dead and has more than the speed and strength required to measure up to most challenges.”

“You want to partner up with Lance?” Kaplain stared at him in disbelief, “You want to partner up with Lance and go in there to probably die?”

Hal sighed, “Look, I've tried to train you two to understand not to take unnecessary risks, and I think you've taken that onboard well. But you also well know that sometimes you have to take risks to save lives. That's what makes us ISMI investigators. Being willing to do something stupid when the time calls for it. You know how exceptionally good I am at wriggling my way out of certain death. If anyone can do that here, it's me. But I will not stand by and watch groups of guards and investigators go in there and throw their lives away while we gather data.” He wished he could be honest with Kaplain, and explain that he would be fine no matter what happened... but... he knew he could not open that can of worms now.

“And... Deacon? Does he get to go in there and probably die too?” Kaplain was squaring up to Hal slightly now, and the biologist held up his hands.

“Let Blaine speak for himself,” he replied, calm and cool in his response. But he already knew the answer because he had felt small feet dig into him. “He's a grown ass man and he can make his own decisions. Something he's been telling us since the start of all this.”

“I'm going with him. I'm not budging and you can't make me. I need to make sure nobody else goes through what I did. That we stop whoever set this in motion, that's all that matters to me.” Blaine spoke in a calm and matter of fact way, his words were firm, making his decision clear and final.

Hal gave a quiet sigh, looking at Kaplain, seeing frustration in his face but knowing it came from a good place. “Creek,” he spoke gently, “I know you want to stop me. I know you think it's stupid, but we have very few other options now. This has to end or we will spend forever just looking at these sites as they pop up, sealing them and waiting for the next one, and they will continue to take lives. If you have a better, less dangerous idea I would love to hear it, but look,” he gestured behind the man, “Even Sayer knows this has to be done.”

Kaplain looked over his shoulder at their younger companion, who was nodding, his milky eyes hard behind their sadness. “I want to go with you Hal,” he spoke up nervously.

“I thought you'd say that Neil,” Hal smiled at him, “But this time, I'd like you and Kaplain to be out here, ready to catch our mystery creatures when they appear. That said, I would like your help with something before we go in. A little contingency plan if you will.”

Sayer looked curious, “What do you have in mind?”

Lance observed Hal scathingly, dressed as though he was going out for dinner in a high quality white silk shirt and a burgundy velvet waistcoat, the outfit topped off with a light sneer on his face. “Now why on earth would I go in with you when I already have a perfectly serviceable partner?” he gestured at Earl.

“You want Earl to die do you?” asked Hal, raising an eyebrow.

“Well of course not,” snapped the vampire.

“Then don't take him in there. I've already told my team to wait outside because I want them to live, and I am going in there in the full knowledge I might not come out.”

“Then why even bother taking me?” asked the vampire.

“First of all, you're already dead, and you possess the speed and strength to escape if things should go south. Secondly, you're damn good at your job, and you might tip the odds in our favour. You know I've got a knack for games, and this is one gigantic game. We're the ideal team. Besides. I don't have a choice. The park requires a buddy system.”

Lance continued to glare at him, the expression intensifying slightly at the compliment. “Well. I suppose there's some truth in what you say. But how can you be sure those you seek will even appear outside the site at all? What if they are already in there somewhere?”

“We've seen them appearing around sites before. They're bound to show up sooner or later. If we post guards all over, armed with our best weaponry and capture technology, we might get them. I'm pretty confident they'll be here.”

“What are you even basing that on?” scoffed Lance.

“Call it a gut feeling,” Hal did not want to call it a hunting instinct but he knew damn well that was precisely what it was. He knew in his gut that he was laying a trap and baiting it, and he was hoping they would fall into it. How exactly he felt that this would work he didn't have the foggiest idea. The hunter god that he was still learning about inside him though, that knew.

“As much as I do not like your 'gut feelings,' they are known for rarely being wrong,” Lance conceded a little hesitantly, “and you really believe this will work?”

Hal nodded firmly. “I do. I'm foolhardy but I am not a fool. I wouldn't march into one of these places without a good sense of what I was getting into.”

Lance rubbed his narrow chin thoughtfully and glanced at Earl. “What do you think?”

Earl looked delighted to be asked and he nodded emphatically. “Hal's gut has never led the institute wrong. If you ask me it should be runnin the whole operation. If he thinks this'll work... then I believe him.”

The vampire let out a low sigh and a single nod. “Fine. A brief, exploratory entry this afternoon after proper briefing, discussion and preparation. We'll see how it goes after that. But if you get me killed I swear I will come back again and this time I will make sure you're dead too.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

<< First || Previous || Masterlist || Next >>

A cursed, maneating (allegedly) theme park?! I mean how could I not?

We're actually over the 400 page mark in the original raw document now, and coming up on the final story arc of the book. Hope you're all still enjoying!

[llaberration]

I.S.M.I - Chapter Thirty One.

“Oh noooo,” a sarcastic voice spoke up behind Hal and he half-turned to stare at Lukan in shock, annoyance flaring at the tone. The werewolf was emerging from between some shelves, bleeding pretty heavily from one arm but otherwise unharmed, with a shaken but intact Neil following. “Anyway,” the werewolf brushed himself off. “Shall we go?”

“Wh... what?” Hal swiftly read the self-satisfied tone in the werewolf's voice and felt confusion wash over him.

Lukan gave him a smug grin, and patted his belly. “You owe me a free meal Agent O'dwyer,” the werewolf offered him a hand, and Hal, confused, took it and heaved himself up.

Hal quickly reinterpreted the situation, eyes flicking back and forth over Lukan's face. Why was the werewolf nonchalant, why was he acting like they had won? “Wh... you... stole the eggs didn't you?”

Lukan licked his lips, “With everyone after them it seemed like a good idea at the time. Too much risk someone would get their hands on the case so... I switched them out while you two left to go after the cabal guys. Sayer put a little magic on the box to make it heavy enough to fool them aand well... here we are...” he patted his stomach again.

Hal, in disbelief, reached out to press his hands against the werewolf's middle, feeling a distinctly firm, lumpy roundness there. “I tell you what, you are an absolute genius Lukan,” he lunged at the werewolf, giving him a grateful squeeze. “You know what, we get these things home safe to Feffin and Olander and you have more than earned yourself that meal,” he breathed a huge sigh, feeling a leaden weight lifting from his chest. “What did you do with that detained scientist?”

“Oh he's still tied up in a corner back there,” Lukan jerked a thumb back over his shoulder.

Javier stumbled into the area, three more ISMI agents in tow, “What happened?!”

“Two scientist got away with some artefacts, teleportation spell,” Hal let himself lean against a shelf, feeling a bit weak from relief. “But we got as many artefacts as we could off the platform before they went... and they didn't get the eggs.” He pulled himself up enough to wipe several of the chalk glyphs away, ensuring they couldn't simply reverse the teleport to get back in. He didn't fully know how it worked but he knew he didn't want that. “They seem to have found some way to infuse chalk with Ignotuscientific properties, letting it be used in place of more complex and time consuming rituals and ungents. I'd like to get my hands on some of that,” he said, rubbing his chin.

“Well, there's enough research and information here to keep us busy for years but... It's probably in this building somewhere,” sighed Javier.

Hal grinned, “Don't look so sad, your job just got a lot more interesting.”

“Do you have any idea how much paperwork this is going to be?!” the man looked at the haphazardly thrown heap of artefact boxes, “And these aren't even in their catalogued places... this is going to be a nightmare...”

“Speaking of which, do we have the catalogue?” asked Hal, reaching for the box he had grabbed earlier, “I have a query for it.”

“Yeah, it's on a panel by the door,” Javier gestured, “Go take a look, we have to start the cleanup here. You guys take the van home, get those eggs safely to the dragons. I'll make sure the necessary authorities are informed.”

“Don't let that bastard Bexley-Pierpont take an ounce of credit. I haven't seen that git since Olander spat me out... where did he get to?” Hal asked.

“Seems that witnessing that entire thing made him a bit hesitant to deal with the situation directly... he's been 'advising' from a safe location.” Javier looked disgusted.

“I guess you could say he doesn't have the stomach for the work...” Hal grinned, only sayer laughed, and everyone else took a moment to spare him a withering look.

“Come on, let's not waste any more time,” Kaplain turned towards the door, and the others followed, passing through the rows of shelves and steam, feeling their way back to find the catalogue panel.

“What is it that you grabbed?” Lukan asked Hal, eyeing the box.

“Something that... drew my attention. Can't explain it... felt... weird. Familiar?” Hal replied, turning the thing in his hands. Within the clear perspex box was a small triangular object that was either made of stone or some stonelike pottery. It had four rough, unevenly placed holes in it, one round one in the centre and three vaguely triangular ones, one in each corner. It was covered in tiny hatchmarks that Hal could tell were carved there on purpose... some language or message perhaps... but the whole thing had an aura that made his senses tingle.

Lukan leaned down and sniffed at the box, baring his teeth at it and wrinkling his nose. “I smell it...” he agreed, “Something... strange but... familiar somehow...”

When they reached the panel with the catalogue, Hal scrolled down to find the ID that he had seen in the empty spot on the shelf. 268-A. He opened up the entry and let out a little gasp. “Lukan, look.”

The werewolf leaned in to read, and then looked at Hal. “You found it... the one you were worried about...”

Hal grinned broadly, “Saving the world one weird incident at a time huh?”

The description, as written in the briefly summarised entry read as such; 'Item appears as a small perforated object made of an unknown stonelike material that resists attempts to test. Possible language markings on one side. Possible witch stone. When infused in fresh blood, it changes the liquid into a new agent-268-B. When this liquid is fed to a lifeform, the creature will immediately begin to evolve predatory tendencies and features. If already a predator, its existing features will be improved. Traits are consistent in each species, and will be passed to offspring.'

Hal had found and saved the predator stone that had caused them all that trouble at the previous site. Something in his hunting senses had labelled this for him. Had sought it out. Knowing somehow that he had been exposed to it before and wanted to find it.

“This is the thing that made those monsters at the abandoned site?” asked Kaplain, staring at the stone, then at Hal. “How did you know?”

Hal shrugged, lying, “Just... a vibe I guess. Maybe I felt it at the abandoned labs as well but I just... recognised it.”

Kaplain shot him a look and then shook his head, “You know, for a supposedly normal human you're fucken weird Hal.”

Hal let out a slightly-too high laugh and shrugged, “Too many years on the job.”

They left the facility and Hal turned the artefact over to the guards for immediate transport on high priority to an ISMI containment site. Then they were given the keys to one of the vans and began the journey back to the safehouse, tired, but warmed by their success.

When they arrived, Hal was not surprised to see the dragons were already outside, even though he had told them nothing of this operation to retrieve their eggs, the magic that bound them had clearly given the game away as they had drawn closer. Feffin was sitting beside Doc on the porch steps, and Olander was pacing back and forth before them. Once the vehicle stopped and Hal stepped out, all three rushed him, demanding answers, and the biologist smiled as he put a hand on Lukan's shoulder and explained the eggs were safe.

They went inside, and over food, Hal retold the story of the rescue, giving credit where it was due to both the ISMI and his team. The dragons both seemed darkly delighted by the part where the cabal scientist had to be 'convinced' to give up his information, and gambolled around Doc in visible joy once the eggs had all been settled together in the pale werewolf's belly, safe and together at last. The hour was growing late, and Hal grunted as he pulled himself to his feet and began to head upstairs, still sore from injuries past.

As he got about halfway up, a quiet, questioning whine made him turn, and he chuckled to see Lukan looking a little curious and expectant. “You're gonna have to wait a little longer dogboy,” he said, shaking his head. “I need a shower, a change of bandages, and then to clear things with the boss,”

Lukan tilted his head, “The boss?”

Hal chuckled, putting a hand on his stomach to show who the boss was. “Don't worry, it won't take long. Come find me in a half hour, okay?”

Lukan nodded and backed up, allowing Hal to continue on his way.

The biologist went to his room, closing the door and fetching a clean towel before heading to the bathroom, starting to undress and peel off his many bandages. “That... went both better, and worse than I had hoped,” he sighed as he worked.

“You alright?”

“It's been a hell of a day but... yeah,” Hal turned on the shower to start getting warm while he removed the bandage of the knife wound on his middle, examining it carefully, making sure the stitches were intact, and there was no undue colouring or oozing.

“You don't sound so certain,”

Hal gently stroked at his friend, “While it's true we did win in the end, that was all very close, and I don't like how personal this feud is getting with the cabal. It was never personal before this and I worry that it may dilute the clear waters of impartiality with the institute.”

“You can't fix problems like that Hal. All we can do is combat them as they come up.”

“I know, and I just wish it didn't have to be that way. We're all humans trying to deal with a lot of unknown bullshit. Infighting is going to make it so much harder.”

“That's humans for you,”

Hal sighed, unable to disagree with this, and finished checking his wounds. “By the way, I might have made a small deal with Lukan that if he got the eggs out of there, he could have me as a meal,”

“Oh-kay...”

“I know, it's weird, but that's werewolves for you. He's probably lonesome for his pack. Anyway, if you're not down for it, I can leave you with Doc or Kaplain for the night?”

“Oh I don't have an issue with it, it's your body, you can feed it to whoever you want.”

“Oh wow it sounds weird when you put it like that. But okay,” he gently rubbed at his friend. “I'm going to shower and then pay off my debt, is there anything you want in between?”

“Nah. I'm good, just try not to get flipped upside down or anything, okay?”

“I'll do what I can,” chuckled Hal, taking out his earpiece and stepping into the shower.

He washed himself thoroughly, dried off, redressed in soft jogger bottoms and a t-shirt, re-bandaged his various wounds and took a moment to send an initial email to Brown explaining what had happened in the vault in the briefest of explanations, then put his tablet away with a quiet sigh and just, waited.

It wasn't many minutes before he heard a quiet knock on the door, and considered the possibility of teasing the werewolf by not answering or hiding, but as much as he knew Lukan would enjoy the game of hunting him, he just didn't have the energy for it. “Come on in,” he called.

The door opened and the werewolf grinned a broad, slightly ghoulish smile as he came into the room, showing a little too much fang.

“Close the door,” chuckled Hal, “And stop looking at me like I'm a prime rib,”

“But you look so much like one!” teased Lukan as he shut the door and approached, “You all set?”

Hal nodded, “I've checked with the boss, it's all fine.”

“And you're still okay with this deal? I'll be disappointed if you want to back out but I will understand. I only go for unwilling food when it deserves it.”

Hal nodded, “I don't make deals I don't intend to honour,” he chuckled, “One thing though, he requests that you refrain from turning me upside down at any point.”

“That seems reasonable, feet first it is then,” the werewolf came to kneel before Hal, reaching out one gentle hand towards a leg.

“One question, if you'll indulge me before I indulge you...” Hal asked, his tone light, so as to show he wasn't trying to back out.

“Hm?” the werewolf carried on to gently seize the leg anyway, but made no move for eating it yet, just getting a grip on his prey.

“Why me? Like... why do you want to eat me? Why does everything want to eat me?”

Lukan let out a soft laugh, the tip of his tail twitching in an amused little wag, “Well, I suppose you might not have noticed this about yourself but you have a scent to you... I don't know what it is but it's tempting. I assume now that it's something to do with what you told me before but... honestly I can't be sure, you might just smell delicious. Secondly, and for me in particular, I am used to having my pack around me, at least when I go home at night, but they're away on mission and so am I so... my belly in lonesome.”

“And... you and Doc wouldn't consider it?”

Lukan wrinkled his nose a little, “I don't think he likes me very much. I've made some friendly advances but... he's been pretty closed off towards me.”

“That's so unlike him, huh,” Hal muttered quietly, mostly thinking out loud. “Did you stare at him weird? Because that would put anyone off.”

“Look, I've stopped doing that on your lot now since it clearly doesn't do anything so it can't be that alone.” He raised the legs he was holding a little, giving Hal a glance with slightly dilated, 'cute' eyes. “Now... can I?”

Hal laughed, “Those eyes don't really work in a human face, but go ahead,” he let himself lie back on the bed, not really wanting to watch himself be eaten. He wasn't upset or uncomfortable about it, he'd just had quite enough of weird predators for the time being. There was the briefest pause as he felt his legs lifted, and then after a puff of warm breath, he felt them slide gently against warm, slick flesh. There was a slight scrape of teeth against the back of his calf that he noticed, but was not worried about, as it was only gentle. Then the werewolf got his position better, and there were no more scrapes as the warmth began to slide up Hal's legs. He closed his eyes, listening to the quiet, efficient swallows, feeling his body tugged with each one, always astounded by the efficiency of the werewolf's throat. He wondered now, with his skills and practice, how big an object he could swallow... not a lot bigger than Deacon but he'd be curious to know. He certainly was no werewolf in that area.

Lukan shifted slightly, the powerful muscles massaging Hal's legs as the werewolf neared the bed, working up his thighs with wet, efficient swallows, gentle but powerful hands grasping Hal's waist to 'secure' the prey as he worked. He was definitely eager, Hal had to give him that. He didn't resist at all as the werewolf hefted his hips, sliding them in with apparent ease, and Hal had to wonder if a smaller werewolf would have been able to do this so easily. Did smaller werewolves struggle with this or were they just as capable as their larger counterparts? He hadn't read anything in the species file about that but... maybe someone had done a study, either an ISMI werewolf or a doctor with a little too much interest in these things.

Hal blinked as powerful hands gripped his shoulders now and started to pull him down, and he instinctively raised a hand to cover his stomach as he felt warm breath on it, knowing sharp teeth were hovering over his small friend. It wasn't that he didn't trust Lukan but he wanted to try and protect Deacon from as much disruption as possible. The werewolf seemed to understand, and carried on gently working along his body.

Hal could feel his legs starting to curl lightly in a more confined space inside, and he shifted to ensure they were curling the right way, not wanting to end up all awkward as more of him was squeezed into the confined space. As the gullet squeezed around his middle, he tensed his arm slightly, just enough to shield Deacon from the crushing pressure a bit. He knew the man had agreed to this but he felt a little bad, as though he was dragging him along for the ride. But a deal was a deal, and Blaine could have gone to spend the night with one of the others. Not that the man seemed upset. Not at all. In fact he was laid out pretty comfortably, relaxed and limp, letting the experience pass him by. Hal was grateful of that.

As the jaws crept up his chest, he felt the world move a bit as Lukan lifted him right off the bed, gravity taking some of the workload off the werewolf now. Hal closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he felt the werewolf tensing for the last of his large meal, letting his one free arm trail behind him as Lukan swallowed hard, squashing Hal's face into the warm wetness and dragging him on downwards. He considered a last act of defiance like grabbing the werewolf's hand or something, but again, he was too tired, and he knew werewolves liked playfighting... he didn't want to get Lukan to enjoy him too much or he'd be back for more.

He let himself slide downwards, bending his knees upwards so he would slide into a curled up position with them easily. The powerful throat worked him downwards with absolute efficiency, and he let out a slow exhale as he felt the powerful, thudding heart pass his ear. His arm trailed down after him as he was squashed and squeezed the rest of the way down and found himself wound into a tight space. He blinked a little, grunting as he shifted slightly. This guy was surprisingly not as roomy as Doc... he had actually expected more space rather than less. It wasn't uncomfortable though, and he felt gentle hands against his back as the world changed angle, moving and shifting to come to rest with him on his side. His back was towards the outside world and he was facing 'inwards' curled neatly into a ball. His first thoughts for Deacon, he gently stroked at his own stomach, “You okay?”

“All good here, you?”

Hal nodded a little, “Yeah, that wasn't too rough on you?”

“There you go again, worrying about me when you're the one being strained through a werewolf's digestive system,”

Hal chuckled, gently giving the small man a squeeze, “Okay well you sleep well. I'm going to check in with Lukan.”

“Goodnight!” The small man moved about slightly then settled in place, and Hal reached out to gently squash one hand into the back of the stomach, skilled fingers seeking out that weakpoint he knew was in here somewhere... if he could find it in a dragon he could find it in a werewolf...

There it was, close to the spine, he grinned and dug his hand more firmly into the spot, feeling the werewolf shiver around him, and firm hands against his back. “Hal... what're you...”

Hal grinned, “A little surprise,” he said, digging his fingers in more firmly, “You don't just get away with making a meal of me,”

The werewolf shifted in place, letting out a little whine, but not one of pain.

Hal chuckled and ceased the 'torment' switching to gently pressing at the 'ceiling' instead, “You alright?”

“You're gonna have to teach me how you did that...”

Hal chuckled, “Trade secret! G'night!” he settled down, and pretended not to hear as the werewolf gently pressed at him and asked for more information.

“Well. You've done what you said you were going to do and more,” Javier grinned at them around the breakfast table, “I know it's been a lot, and we thank you all for what you've done but your director Brown has been demanding you return to the united kingdom as soon as possible,”

Hal nodded a little forlornly, “I had a feeling this was coming. But I have one main question, what about the dragons? They still won't accept food from anyone except myself and Doc, and I can't just leave them here...”

“The governments have been discussing this very issue, and have determined that the correct course of action is for the dragons to be sent home with you to be cared for by the UK ISMI,” Javier looked at the two scaly creatures, who had joined them downstairs for the meeting.

“Good. This land has mistreated us,” Olander spoke as bluntly as usual. “Going somewhere else will not be a bad thing.”

Feffin nodded in agreement. “This will allow us to stay with Hal?”

Javier nodded, “It will.”

“Then we agree,” the sea dragon smiled, as calm and soft spoken as ever,

Hal smiled a little bit absent mindedly at this before nodding at Javier, “We do have a case to get back to anyway. It just feels a bit sudden.”

The man nodded, “And I am sorry for that. But you know how it is. We are but leaves blown by the whims of the breeze.”

“Do we get a private jet again? I did tell Brown I wanted it ready and waiting to bring us home after this...”

“Yes. He has made good on his word. Your jet will be waiting at the airport in two hours, so get some breakfast and pack your things. Lukan will drop you off.”

They did as they were told, gathering together their few possessions and packing them into the truck as the dragons danced around like excited puppies, thrilled at the thought of travel. Eventually Hal captured the two of them in the living room for a talk. “You two will need to be hidden for the flight. We still need to keep you thoroughly concealed for now, dragons on the loose will certainly draw attention.”

“How do you propose to hide us?” Feffin asked, curiously.

“Well, one of you can hide in Doc with the eggs if that would be satisfactory to you, but I do not believe he can comfortably accommodate you both as well as your clutch.”

“So what do you propose?” asked Olander, “Your other werewolf is not coming along, is he?”

“No, he is staying here,” Hal confirmed, a little sadly. “This is his home.”

“Then where could you hide a second dragon?”

“If you will permit Sayer to make you smaller still, my colleague has offered to share his hiding place,” Hal gently patted his middle. “It might be a little crowded but it is safe and hidden...”

The two dragons looked at each other, and Feffin gently nudged Olander with an amused look, “Perhaps you should volunteer my love, it is only fair as you have eaten him before...”

Olander's fins bristled playfully and he gave the other dragon a gentle shoulder barge, “Oh no, I could not possibly deprive you of the chance to be eaten by Orindigeon's chosen!”

Hal watched the two of the nip at each other, shaking his head fondly, “Alas, you shall have to decide, as I cannot accommodate you both, and Sayer likely only has the energy for one, so a decision will have to be made.”

After a little more back and forth, Feffin agreed that they would be the one to go with Hal, as the further downsizing did not bother them quite as much as it bothered Olander. Neil gladly came and offered his assistance with this, pleased to be helpful as he used his magic to make the dragon even smaller, down to a size about the same as Deacon's.

Hal bent down to gently pick up the tiny reptile as they got their first look at the world from that perspective, huddling in his hands slightly to process the adjustment before daring to take on the world, flapping their now-tiny wings to take a short fly around the room before returning to Hal.

“I have not been this small since I was a hatchling,” giggled the dragon, “But please. Do not let me slow you.” They looked over at Olander, who padded to gently nuzzle and lick at their tiny mate for a moment before looking at Hal with glittering eyes.

“You must take good care of them,” there was no growl or threat, just a clear statement of fact.

“Of course,” Hal gently reached out to scratch Olander beneath the chin, glad, when the dragon, usually very standoffish, permitted this affection, and even raised his head a little. “I promise, I shall take good care. The fact Deacon is still with us after so long in my care proves my qualification for this,” he smiled, “Besides, Doc will be right there with me so you won't be far away.”

Olander seemed satisfied with this, showing that he was slowly starting to trust Hal more, and went to settle with Doc as the biologist gently raised Feffin up to his face. “I apologise that you have to share, but I am sure you will get along with Blaine,”

“I am sure I will,” Feffin smiled and rearranged their wings to lie more tightly across their back, one folded over the other carefully. “I am ready.”

Hal, a little embarrassed, moved to have his back to the others as he gently brought the dragon to his lips and opened up. He was surprised to feel gentle little clawed feet against his tongue right away, and the dragon began nosing their way inside. He had not expected them to be so willing or eager, but he was not at all displeased as a rush of new and unusual flavour flooded his senses. This had tingling notes of sour, like Sayer did, but this was much stronger and come accompanied by a sweet flavour a little like peach that almost overpowered the sharpness, but not quite. He fought to conceal his enjoyment of this flavour as he gently helped the dragon inside, glad when Feffin seemed to know what they were doing, confidently squirming towards the back of his mouth and pressing and pushing there for entry. He swallowed quickly, shocked at the way the scaled form swiftly became slick and slippery almost immediately on contact with his saliva... something to do with being water creatures perhaps? Either way, he tried to harness it the best he could to make this fast, swallowing quickly and firmly, helping the little form inwards with his hands. Feffin slid inside almost the way he'd have expected a fish to feel, so slippery and smooth that they slid down before he even realised what was happening, sloshing into his stomach with almost no resistance to heavily join Deacon, pressing his belly out against his shirt.

Hal huffed slightly, feeling his head spin a little as a rush of lifeforce hit him like a triple vodka shot. He leaned against the chair and took a few slow breaths to steady himself, then gently stroked at his friends. “You alright?”

“We're good Hal! It's a bit cramped but Feffin doesn't seem to mind!”

Hal sighed, nodding. Cramped was the word... he felt outrageously full and strangely warm in the cheeks. “Good, you two get acquainted, I'm going to try and herd everyone to the van.”

Before he knew it, they were on their way to the airport. He rode shotgun with the window down, letting the cool air wash over his face, trying to make himself feel less like he had had a night on the town. At the airport, they were hurried through security, and on the tarmac, Lukan stopped and gave Hal a tight hug.

Hal was a bit surprised at this gesture of affection, but accepted it and gently squeezed back, puzzled as he heard the werewolf inhale deeply. “Lukan? What're you doing?”

“It's a werewolf thing,” replied the large man, not releasing him. “When someone leaves, we commit their scent to memory, so that when we meet them again, even if they've changed a lot, we recognise them.”

Hal was a little touched by this. Whether he was going soft or was still drunk from the lifeforce, it gave him a little twinge in his chest and he hugged the werewolf a little tighter. “Don't worry. They'll send me back here the next time there's something the US ISMI can't handle, they always do.”

The werewolf chuckled and squeezed him a moment longer before letting him go. “Then you had best go back and find out what kind of mess they have made of your case in your absence.”

Hal nodded, and backed up onto the plane, sitting thoughtfully beside a window and watching the werewolf escorted safely off the tarmac.

“Funny guy,” said Kaplain thoughtfully from beside Hal.

“Yeah, nothing so strange as werewolves,” agreed Hal, rubbing his chin, “But I was getting used to having him around.”

“He saved your ass a few times and you saved his. It's understandable you'd get attached,” Sayer piped up, smiling at Hal.

The biologist nodded, grinning at them both. “Now, let's go deal with our mushroom man demon mall mystery hat person situation shall we?”

They both nodded, looking genuinely pleased to be going back to something they knew, and Hal rested a hand on his middle as he watched the ground disappear beneath them.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

<< First || Previous || Masterlist || Next >>

Lukan doing what werewolves in my universes do best. Using his stomach to solve literally every problem he has. And what do you know. It worked.

[llaberration]

Something interesting to me is that we are clearly in very different time zones because you always post your ismi updates a day late for me (btw I am SO EXCITED for the next part!!!)

While I expect we are in different time zones, I also quite often post the chapters several entire days late. I am in the UK timezone, however my work schedule is extremely demanding and quite often puts delays on me getting the next one up on time. Like, I shoud definitely have posted the next chapter yesterday. I try to keep on schedule but sometimes it just doesn't line up! Glad you're enjoying and the next one should be up real soon <3

[llaberration]

I.S.M.I - Chapter Thirty.

Hal eyed the screen quietly, “You're sure this is a cabal installation? It looks like a normal town library to me.”

“We're sure,” Javier tapped the screen, “This is a new one on us, but we know there's a much larger underground facility because of what we learned from that helpful, talkative cabal scientist. There's also lot of people, far more than there should be coming and going, some of them known cabal agents.”

Hal chewed his lip thoughtfully, “And they have no idea we know?”

“Nope. Well... after all of the raids yesterday they're on high alert... super high alert, but we intentionally sent units out to more old abandoned sites we suspect they're watching, to make them think we're scraping the bottom of the barrel a bit.”

“Good thinking,” Hal nodded, “So when do we go in?”

“We have seven teams going in from different sides, and another five setting up perimeters the moment we go in, and to give the public a story about a gas leak. We don't want to risk one single soul getting out with those eggs. Once we get the all clear that everyone is in position, and all troops have their gear ready, we go in. There's two main entrances on the building, two into the floor below and one suspected emergency bailout a block down to the south that goes a floor deeper still. If there are any other exits, we haven't detected them.”

“And which one are we hitting?”

“One of the first floor down entrances,” Javier tapped a point on the map. “Our team will make entry here and sweep the floor for the eggs, capturing all cabal personnel along the way. If we find nothing we'll go down a floor with some of the other teams while designated teams hold the remaining upper floors. We have been told the eggs are here so our job is to ensure they stay here until we find them. Not a soul leaves this site.”

Hal nodded a little grimly, glancing down at the weapon in his arms, disliking the feel of it. As much as he admired the American ISMI's ingenuity with their weaponry, the resemblance they all carried to deadly armaments always made him uncomfortable.

This weapon in particular was a SKR-13 model known fondly by the ISMI agents as 'the sticker.' It was a high powered weapon that fired a 'rope' of sticky gel in a horizontal line at terrific force. This substance then hardened to near indestructible toughness after only a few seconds in the air. Training recommended it was used to bind legs together, stick arms to walls, and block up mechanical equipment. It could also be used for sealing doors and windows in a pinch. The golden rule was to never shoot someone in the face with it, as the jelly could cover their critical breathing apparatus. Everyone also carried a small can of solvent which caused the gel to dissolve, so if accidental injury was caused, it could be removed in time for recovery. In Hal's opinion, a jelly gun had no right to look so deadly. It was heavy, black metal, and looked for all the world like a normal deadly firearm.

They had also been given taser sidearms, cuffs and other entrapping devices. ISMI policy was to avoid deadly force against self aware life at all costs, even when that life was the cabal and potentially trying to wipe out civilisation.

Inside him, Deacon was settled firmly in place with all of his gear. He had been gifted a new drone, much smaller than his UK one, but well balanced and designed for indoor use, better for this operation. Hal had ensured he had heavy duty body armour covering his belly, and everyone had earpieces tuned into the small man's. He was set to give them live information and scout around with the drone in areas they couldn't get to when required. Javier had even gifted the man, with Sayer's help, a sharp little combat knife in a secure scabbard, just in case 'things got real bad' and he needed it. Hal felt better about knowing his friend was equipped for the worst.

Even Lukan was kitted out in body armour, though his was clearly much lighter and less restrictive. The werewolf was pacing the back of the van, looking ready to be let loose. Kaplain and Sayer were there as well, armed, armoured and ready to go. The group had another four men Hal did not know as well to bulk up their numbers, Javier's personal team, therefore Hal trusted them.

They sat and waited as the calls of readiness began to come in, Hal idly drumming his fingers on the armour over his middle, unused to this separation, but glad of it nonetheless.

“One more team to call in and then we are go,” Javier spoke with a tense tone to his voice, clearly on edge and ready to move.

A tense four minutes passed before the final call came in, and Javier acknowledged it before pressing the 'all' button on the console and speaking sharply. “All entry teams we are a go. I repeat we are a go.”

Hal drew a slow, calming breath as the van doors burst open as the two men at the very back shoved them, and the group immediately poured out into daylight from the disguised van (In this case a blue and purple, 'Mr Icy' branded ice cream van.

Seeing the other groups converging on the building as well, Hal kept pace with Javier, who was leading them to their designated spot. Their entrance was hidden, but not very well, it was disguised as an oversized electrical box in a grassy field next to the library. No normal electrical box actually looked that size, or had a slanted back that clearly showed it lead down into a tunnel, but the cabal were like the ISMI in one way, they knew the best way to hide something was just by not hiding it. Stick it in plain sight and make it look boring.

Using an heavy metal ram that Lukan had been given to carry, they burst the first door, the 'ordinary outer shell' of the structure, to reveal a much more advanced metal door behind it. One of Javier's guys, a tech, came forwards and began fiddling with the code panel beside it, tweaking the cover off and messing with the wiring underneath until the door sparked and opened into a dimly lit stairway.

Hal and Javier nodded to each other and moved in unison down the stairs, swift and quiet on the concrete and metal. Two of Javier's men remained at the top. The corridor they found themselves in was clearly nothing more than a fire and emergency exit, and as such, there wasn't a soul down there. At least not yet.

The group swept along the corridor and to another large set of double doors at the other end. The tech came forwards once more and set to work on the code panel. It took a little longer this time, the security levels higher than before, but eventually the locks gave out and Hal was able to boot the doors open. The group emerged in a well organised circle, facing every direction, just in time for a set of alarms to start blaring, and chaos to erupt all around them.

As the alarms went off, shouts sounded all around, and doors began to open, frightened researchers and scrambling guards running every which way. Calmly and cooly, the team took them down as each one came into view, using the stickers to pin their legs together and arms to the floor. As each one went down, a pair of them went out to ensure they were disarmed and unable to reach any tools, then returned to the group. They moved in a systematic pattern, room by room, corridor by corridor. Hal had to admit he admired the military precision with which the highly trained team operated, and Sayer and Kaplain did a wonderful job of fitting in with it having only had the briefest of training sessions from Javier as they had driven over. The only one allowed to operate outside of the pattern was Lukan, who served as a scout along with Deacon's drone, sweeping in a much more organic and fluid manner than the rest of the group, just to throw off any lucky escapees. The facility was well made, metal walls and floors to keep out the underground damp, and mostly consisted of offices on this level, a few basic laboratories, but mostly workspaces with maps and research books strewn everywhere.

Soon enough, they crossed paths with the team who had made entry on the other side of the floor, merged with them, and after another brief sweep, they moved to the central stairwell, leaving men posted at each entrance in pairs, and two more pairs moving through the corridors checking on the existing captives.

This played out again on the second floor down. Smooth sweeping motion disabling everyone they met. This floor was less offices and more laboratories. Some of these were clearly in-progress studies too, as there were animals and unknown lifeforms in cages here and there, some artefacts and suspicious technology being studied or disassembled. They merged again with the team that had taken the other entrance, and found themselves faced with a door to another floor down, their scans had only gone down deep enough to detect this one, it was possible there were additional floors below, but they could not be certain.

The door to this floor took significant breaching, and when they did break through, Hal was not surprised when they were met with immediate gunfire. The teams down here were better organised, having had time the upper floors did not, and probably better equipped. Four members of the ISMI teams dropped heavy, bulletproof shields from their backs and formed up to get through the door and make a barrier, two on each side, for more of the ISMI agents to shoot from, working on disarming their attackers by jamming their guns and sticking their arms to walls.

This worked well, the teams with the shields separating and spreading down the corridors, allowing more ISMI agents out behind them to shoot their attackers down more efficiently. The first line of defence quickly fell, and the two groups separated, leaving a pair at the stairs as always, travelling down the hallways and sweeping the rooms as they found them. What they found here seemed to be more labs, populated by alarmed scientists and researchers hiding behind their desks, the occasional armed guard, little else. Once again there was a catalogue of interesting things being studied but now was not the time for Hal to stop and window shop. As they burst into one lab, the scientist there struck a metal orb on the ground that briefly cancelled out the gravity in a ten metre diameter around him. Fortunately, gravity was not a prerequisite for the functioning of the stickers, so they just took care of the scientist, and Hal grabbed the orb, reactivating gravity simply by holding it tightly until it ceased vibrating. Mercifully few of the scientists utilised their study subjects as weapons.

They swept the floor, calm and efficient, and circled around on themselves to meet back up with the other half of the team.

Hal took pause at this point, frowning as he looked around, “That can't be it. Where's the vault?”

“Vault?” Javier blinked.

“Yeah, you've been in cabal installations... they all have a vault where they keep the dangerous shit.”

“Good point,” Javier looked around, then said to the men. “Sweep again. Look for hidden and disguised doors.”

Hal's group broke off from the ISMI teams, and began to look around carefully. After a little while, it was Sayer who noticed that there was a discrepancy in the otherwise immaculate symmetry of the place. A door was missing.

After he voiced this, they set about closely examining one wall where they estimated it should be, and discovered a hidden staircase behind an exceptionally convincing hollow wall. Beyond that, there lay yet another staircase. Hal went back and called Javier and his men, and they proceeded downstairs once more.

This time, they came to an entirely different kind of door. This one looked much more like the type of thing the cabal would have, but shouldn't. Heavy stone that looked genuinely ancient, out of place in the clean, metal setting, carved with elaborate circles and patterns in languages Hal only recognised a few of.

The biologist sighed, gently running a finger down one of the designs. “It's an Ignotuscientific combination lock. We've only seen a few of these... how they got it here without damaging it... and got it working again in a new location... I'm actually a little impressed.”

“Well... what's the combination?” asked Javier, “How do we figure it out?”

“Can we just blow it up instead?” asked Lukan.

“That depends... do you want to be exploded?” asked Hal.

“No, not really,” replied the werewolf.

“If it works like the others we've found, you use any force on it, other than putting in combinations, it will return that roughly in triplicate to the applier. So if you slap the door, it will slap you into next week.”

“So... is there some calculation you can do?” asked Javier, looking at Hal, “Some kind of trick to fool the door maybe?”

Hal shook his head, “This is one of the most secure locking systems ever created, an amalgamation of different magic from different times and places... these things are rare and bloody hard to work with.” He blew through his cheeks, “We'd be better off cutting through the walls and ground than trying the door, however, I believe I know a better way.”

“Yeah?” Javier looked curious.

Hal turned to the guards at the rear, “Would you mind getting me a scientist from one of the floors above? Check their ID cards, I want the one you can find with the highest clearance. Make sure he's well bound, arms and legs both.”

While the two men hurried off, Javier gave Hal a raised-eyebrow look. “What are you going to do? You know hurting people is against our code of ethics... right?”

Hal grinned, “I'm not going to hurt the scientist. I don't approve of medieval torture methods. However, reasonable questions brought about by a healthy little amount of fear that I might hurt him? That's well within our code of ethics.”

“Just what exactly are you planning on threatening them with that would make them give up something this important?”

Hal shot a look at Lukan and smiled slyly, “You'll see. Everyone else take five minutes,”

After a short while, the two men returned, dragging a man who looked to be roughly mid thirties, he had dark hair and eyes, and a half-indignant, half poorly concealed look of fear look on his face, and a pair of glasses that had been knocked askew. He was set down in front of Hal in an awkward sitting position as his legs were bound together with sticky, and his arms were behind his back cuffed. “Ah, glad you could join us Doctor...” Hal glanced at the man's nametag. “Lee,” he gestured at the door. “You can probably hazard a guess why you're down here,”

“You want me to open the door,”

“Or give the code for us to open it, either way. We could just tunnel around it but you know how long that would take sooooo...”

“You think I'm an idiot? You guys can't do anything to me. If I tell you that the cabal can and will kill me. I'd much rather say nothing and deal with you lot.”

Hal raised an eyebrow, “Ah, I see you're familiar with the American ISMI then,” he chuckled, “You've made one small calculation error there.”

The man scoffed, “Oh yeah?”

“I am not from the American ISMI,”

The man paled a bit, “But you are from the institute. That means you can't hurt me.”

“Oh... I am not going to hurt you,” Hal held up his hands and moved back a little, allowing Lukan to loom threateningly behind him. “He, on the other hand... well. Let's say all this raiding has worked up a fierce appetite for my werewolf friend here...”

Playing his part perfectly, Lukan let his eyes glitter with threat, then changed into his combat form, his expression unchanged and hungry.

The man squirmed backwards a little, pressing his shoulders against the wall. “You can't do anything to me, you're not allowed... the institute...”

“Is... looking the other way it seems...” Hal said, glancing around the to reveal all of the guards, and Javier, had turned their backs as he had scripted them to do. “Strange that.”

The man let out a fearful little huff and Hal gently squeezed his shoulder. “Look... I'm a very reasonable man. I don't want any trouble, it gives me a headache. But you see, you lot have been causing a great deal of trouble lately and I do not appreciate it. Let me make you an offer one more time. Give me the combination, and you get to walk out of here with all the other prisoners to be dealt with legitimately. If not? Well... in this kind of chaos people can go missing can't they? All the monsters and artefacts down here... anything could happen in a panic.”

“You're bluffing,”

Hal glanced at Lukan and the werewolf leaned over him, opening his mouth wide and leaning towards the scientist's face, teeth on full display, a long string of saliva dangling threateningly towards the man. It was a nice touch in Hal's opinion, very dramatic.

“Okay!” squeaked the scientist. “I'll tell you!”

Hal smiled, and Lukan backed up, wiping his mouth. “Go on,”

The scientist reeled off a combination list of symbols and which wheel they were on, and after a moment of glancing at the door, Hal clicked his tongue and then hissed through his teeth. “ooooh, I wish you hadn't done that,” he shook his head, giving the man a pained look and moving back, letting Lukan loom in once more, opening up.

“Wait WAIT I-IDIDN'TDOANYTHING-that-that's the code!”

Hal patted Lukan, “Wait,”

The scientist looked immediately relieved.

“Feet first,” Hal added, “I want him to have as long as possible to think about what he's just done.”

The scientist let out a frightened shout as Lukan obeyed, grabbing his legs and flipping the man over, swiftly pulling off the smart black shoes, revealing mismatched black business sock clad feet, and swiftly sliding them into his mouth.

Now on his front on the floor, the scientist shouted again, wriggling like a snake, trying to pull himself away from the werewolf, but Lukan kept a firm grip on the man's calves, tugging him closer, swallowing loudly and wetly.

Hal moved around to be in front of the scientist, still kneeling as he calmly checked his nails, “A trap trigger code, is most specifically not what I asked for.”

“That's the real code!” squealed the man as Lukan swallowed again, the legs disappearing up to the knees.

“No, no it's not,” sighed Hal tiredly. “And I am genuinely disappointed you think that I'd just fall for something like that,”

The man gave a hoarse, despairing shout as Lukan swallowed again, clearly enjoying his part in the little performance, gripping the man with strong hands as he dragged him towards himself.

Hal patiently and calmly allowed this to go on for a little while, ignoring the man's shouting as he took out his phone and checked his emails briefly, pantomiming doing mindless nothings.

Just at the point where Lukan was working his long jaws up the man's chest, Hal pocketed his phone again and straightened up, stretching a little. “Well. A shame to waste the time but we can always find another scientist to ask, we have plenty,”

“That's the real code, I swear it!” shrieked the man frantically.

“Ah but it's not is it?” the biologist went to the door, and Lukan co-operatively shifted himself and his prey so the man could watch Hal. “Look,” Hal pressed the first of the digits the man had given him, turning the wheel of strange symbols with his hands to lock it in as he did so. “Let me see now...” he turned the second wheel, setting it in place with the second character.

With each press, Lukan took another gulp, and Hal continued right up until there were only two left to lock in, and the scientist was left as nothing more than a face, panicking at the back of the werewolf's maw. “Only two more presses,” said Hal, still clicking his tongue against his teeth, “And it looks like you're out of time... one more swallow will finish you, and you won't even get to see what the trap does...” he hovered a finger over the second to last digit, his face calm, unconcerned, he lowered his finger and twisted the wheel to input the symbol, and Lukan tensed for the final swallow.

At this though, the scientist let out a shriek of “Wait!” just in time for Hal to raise an eyebrow and look at him.

“Yes doctor?”

“That's... not the real code.”

“I am well aware,” Hal smiled sweetly. “Would you care to give me the real one?” he gestured at the wall.

His voice shivering and shaking nervously, the scientist reeled off another code, his voice breaking a little as he insisted they had been trained to give the trap code in all circumstances.

Hal smiled broadly, “Excellent, that seems more like it,” he began to enter the code, pausing as the scientist demanded release, and grinning at Lukan. “Well now... I would, but your previous dishonesty has worried me, so I think we need to keep you as a little insurance policy...” he explained, apologetically almost.

Lukan, grinning as he knew what this meant, tipped his head back and swallowed noisily, showing off the bulge in his neck as the man's head slipped down and out of sight.

Hal sighed a bit, shaking his head as he dropped the sickly sweet smile and went back to entering the code. “Fucken idiot,” he muttered, “Thinks I was born yesterday. Bloody trap code, like I can't tell the difference between original combination and new addition,” he scoffed as he grumbled to himself and entered the last of the code, sighing as the door groaned and began to creak noisily open.

“Hal, you're still one crazy guy,” Javier punched him on the arm, “That scientist is going to need therapy,”

“He chose to give me a trap code, he knew the consequences,” Hal shrugged, “Besides, he's perfectly safe. Lukan's just keeping him warm, right Lukan?”

The werewolf, who had returned to his human form and was looking immensely self satisfied, let out a belch and nodded. “Very warm.”

Hal shrugged at Javier, “I use the tools you give me. You give me a werewolf, I will utilise them. The moral of this story is never trust me with anything, ever.”

“Maybe this is the reason everything wants to eat you,” suggested the other agent, shaking his head but looking amused. “You invite it by doing it to others,”

Hal let out a genuine laugh, “In fairness everything else started it. I just learned to take it in stride. If you can't beat them join them and all that.”

As the door finished opening they fell silent, and Hal nodded, “This is the vault alright,” he muttered. The room was chilly, temperature controlled to be such. It contained rows upon rows of black shelving filled with various items sealed in locked transparent containers, spaced safely apart.

“Sayer, front and centre,” Hal nodded at the room, “is there a way for you to find the eggs quickly? There's a lot down here.”

Sayer, coming to the front of the group, nodded a little, “Feffin allowed me to get a feel of the magic coming from their egg... I think I can search for something like that.”

Hal nodded, “Go for it. Everyone else sweep the room for Cabal. Nobody touch anything else.”

As the ISMI guards spread out across the space to search for trouble, Hal followed the young man as he walked along the rows of shelves. Neil had raised his hands, and a bright cyan blue light was glittering through his scars, flickering over the space almost like tiny beams of light were reaching out to touch his surroundings. After a moment, he began to head in a certain direction with more purpose. Hal, Kaplain and Lukan followed as Javier went to directing his men around the space.

Hal felt a strange little tingle as he passed one shelf in particular, a prickle of the familiar. He paused to look at the shelf, frowning as he saw the spot directly beside his head was empty, he frowned, running a hand through the shelf, examining the empty space in the dust there. “Something has been removed from here... recently...” he said, frowning as he saw nothing but a number on a plate in front of the space, and no other identifying information. “Something that bothers me...” he waved a hand, shaking his head, “Never mind, let's get the eggs,” he said, as much for himself as anyone else, and resumed hurrying along.

Sayer continued around the space, the light from his hands glowing gradually brighter. In a sense, Hal could roughly tell what he was doing, he was dowsing for the eggs using his own magic somehow. He followed, looking at the things they were passing on the shelves, making mental notes about some of them. An ornate dagger, an oversized, ridged tooth from some kind of creature, a children's colourful bouncy ball, all neatly stored in clear, locking containers.

Sayer came to a sudden halt, causing a brief pile-up of the men bumping into each other.

Neil turned, went back a few steps, then walked in a circle before turning and staring at a wall. “Uh... there?” he said, looking confused.

Hal detangled himself from Kaplain and came forwards, pressing his hands on the wall, tapping with gentle fingers, “It's hollow,” he said, running his hands about one side and the other, “And it's a panel, not a whole piece,” he leaned on the wall, felt a click, and moved back, causing it to open smoothly, “A hidden push door, clever, but not especially so,” he pulled it open, and behind it sat a sealed black container, about a metre long, half a metre high and wide, with silver clips and handles. “And what do we have here...” he ran his fingers over the clips, checking for triggers and wires before popping them open and pulling the top of the case up to reveal three gently glowing eggs. He sighed in relief, running a hand over one of them gently. “Sayer, these the real deal?”

The young man came forwards and gently reached out to touch the eggs, nodding. “Yes, these are the real thing.”

Hal let out a slow sigh of relief, nodding as he looked back the way they had come, and straightening up suddenly as he saw movement among the shelves, a stooped figure scooping something off a shelf. “HEY!” he shouted, “Someone's here!”

Kaplain immediately raised his sticker and fired at the retreating figure, but the stuff only clipped the man's side and therefore did not incapacitate him. “Shit,” the agent swore before grabbing his walkie-talkie and reported an unknown in the vault.

Hal glanced at Lukan as he clipped the case shut, “Can you get these? I care more about the eggs than I do about anything else.”

Lukan nodded, “Go hunt, leave Sayer with me, we'll focus on bringing the eggs out,”

Hal nodded, patted Sayer on the shoulder, then rushed after the figure with Kaplain in tow.

As they weaved between the shelves after the running figure, the vault suddenly began to fill with steam, making it much harder to see what they were after. There were shouts from the ISMI agents, also hunting the intruder, and clatters as people began to knock into shelves. Hal grabbed his walkie and barked some orders about keeping calm, moving systematically, and being certain not to touch anything on the shelves, restoring some order to the space. After a short time, Hal and Kaplain stumbled onto an indent in the back wall, a rounded platform that had been haphazardly stacked with clear boxed artefacts. Hal frowned as he saw a series of glyphs painted into the walls and floors all around, “It's a ritual...” he muttered, “I would wager a teleportation thing... they're trying to bail with as much as they can...” he reached in and started grabbing boxed artefacts, sliding them across the floor away from the space, “Help me, quick,”

Hal and Kaplain set about dislodging as much as they could from the platform. One box in particular had that same familiarity Hal had felt from the space on the shelf earlier. This gave Hal pause, and for some reason, instinct made him tuck it into his vest before he continued pushing things away, flicking them back towards the shelves, anywhere but the platform.

They hadn't been working on this for more than a few minutes when there were shouts and gunshots once more, and an audible scuffle broke out somewhere. Hal heard angry yelling and stickers firing before heavy footsteps began to come their way. “That's enough, sounds like we need to help,” Hal turned and began to move towards the sound, Kaplain followed.

They passed a few rows of shelves before Hal saw two figures emerging through the steam carrying something heavy. Hal raised his sticker and the man in front held out a pistol in return, “Stop!” shouted the man, glaring at Hal. “We're leaving, and you can't stop us...”

Hal took aim at the pistol and shot it with the sticker, rendering it useless and flicking it out of the cabal scientist's hand.

The man shouted in anger, suddenly hefting the heavy thing they had been carrying, raising it up above his head. The second man co-operated, holding it up high as well, letting Hal get a look at it. They were carrying the dragon egg case... a splatter of blood across the side of it showed there had been a fight to get it. Hal felt his chest tighten.

“If you shoot us, we'll drop this... and what's inside will break, which is something I know you don't want!” exclaimed the scientist, stumbling towards the platform with its painted symbols.

Hal kept his sticker trained on them, so did Kaplain, but they could both see there was no way to take down or stop the men without them dropping the case. Maybe once they got to the platform... before they could finish the ritual somehow...

“Don't do anything stupid now!” shouted the man at Hal, staying turned to face them, “We will drop it...”

Hal felt in his heart this man was not bluffing... but he couldn't do nothing and let the eggs get away...

As the Cabal members stumbled up onto the platform, the one who had been speaking changed his grip so only one hand was supporting the case, grabbing a glowing stick of chalk from his top pocket with the other. “We'll stop you yet Institute,” he hissed, as he began writing on the wall, adding more glyphs to the spell, leaving Hal looking around in a panic for a way to stop them. “You idiots have set us back, but we will return more dangerous than ever and end your idiotic control of everything magical... it should be free for everyone to use...”

“You're no different to us. You lock it all away for yourselves, it's not free here,” Hal tried to bait the man into a dialogue, gesturing around the vault. If he could buy time with some arguing, a bit of hyperbole-

“But it will be! When we're done with our studies!” snapped the man, still writing. “Then you'll see... you all will...” he hissed as he finished the glyphs.

Hal stared hard at the man, committing his face to memory, imprinting it with a label of special hatred. Pale skin, blonde hair, clipped little moustache and beard, green eyes framed behind round glasses and a long row of scars in his scalp along one side.

As the man drew the final line, the writing all around the platform lit up, and in a blast of brightness that blinded Hal for a long moment, they, and everything on the metal platform was gone.

Hal dropped to his knees, bitter frustration at the back of his mouth as he let the sticker fall to the ground. They took them. They got the eggs after all that.

He felt Deacon press gently at him as his breath hitched in his throat. They had been so close... he had touched them... and now they were gone again.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

<< First || Previous || Masterlist || Next >>

Well shit. Poor Hal.

[llaberration]

I.S.M.I - Chapter Twenty Nine

“Well. That was shit.”

Hal and Lukan were taking a breather, both back in human form, on the steps back up to the main level. Both were battered and lacerated, their clothes bloodied and torn but, they were out, and had deemed it necessary to stop and breathe before they went on to the final level above them below ground, which Hal suspected was safer. The stairs entrance to the lower level had been mostly buried in a collapsed tunnel when they had gotten to it, which, Hal suspected, was why the ISMI had not found it on an initial sweep. The animals had made their own tunnels to freedom through the debris over time, giving them access to the base on a wider scale.

“That's one word for it,” muttered Hal, picking a piece of bone out from between his teeth and flicking it away.

“How many do you think there were?”

“I wasn't keeping score but... I suspect they were providing a food source for the larger predators down there, and feeding themselves on vermin and local wildlife... so... a whole little ecosystem's worth.”

“You think there's anything else alive down there?”

“Most likely, I doubt we have seen all the horrors of this base. I strongly suspect a quantity of the wildlife will have escaped into the open air. What will happen to it now is debatable. Depends if we can find and catch it.” Hal leaned back against the steps with a little groan as his assortment of injuries, old and new, simultaneously objected to the movement.

“You okay?”

“Just great, you?”

“Had better days. But still standing.”

“One of those things almost took your eye out. Do werewolf eyes grow back?”

“For some of us, eventually,” muttered Lukan, experimentally running a finger down the deep gashes in his cheek, “But it can take a while, and the right treatment. Something I'd rather not deal with, so thanks for pulling it off.”

Hal shrugged, “Thanks for getting that one that was trying to bite my nose off.”

They shared an awkward chuckle, and Hal carefully raised himself to his feet, “Come on, the others will be worried, and the longer we are here, the more likely something with even more teeth will come to find us. I don't know about you but I do not want to find out what else the cabal tested on. I mean what if there's a goddamn hippo down there?”

“Good point,” huffed the werewolf, standing with a grunt. “That's not something I'd like to meet.”

Hal began to limp his way up the stairs, helping the werewolf keep his balance, as he had taken the brunt of the fighting, more experienced and more confident in combat than Hal, he had consistently put himself in the more risky positions. Hal was grateful for that, and had done what he could to mitigate the damage, but they did both look like they had come out of the losing end of a fight with a wood chipper.

The level above was as Hal had remembered it, marginally more intact, empty and devoid of life. By Hal's estimation, most of the creatures that lived permanently the levels below probably only went to the surface at night, and fortunately, as of now, it wasn't dark yet. They probably weren't far off though, so their escape was taking place at the right time.

Just as they were slowly dripping their way along the main corridor that led to the exit, there was a loud 'boom' and the doors flew open ahead of them. Both men braced to leap for cover, but human voices and bright torches swept over them, and Hal relaxed, holding a hand up to block the lights from blinding him. “ISMI! Freeze!” shouted a loud voice, and Hal co-operated, knowing the American heavier armed ISMI had a very direct procedure of neutralising threats. Before them was a large group, at least twelve, of much heavier equipped ISMI agents. Clearly, Kaplain and Sayer had, at a point, decided to call for significant backup.

“We're ISMI!” he called, as he raised his arms for them to see, “O'dwyer and Kenway!”

“It's fine they're from the initial team!” an annoyed but familiar voice came through, and two armoured figures tried to shove through to the front.

Hal squinted to try and see who it was, but the bright torches had blinded him pretty good. “There's still multiple threats down in the passages below,” called Hal, “This place is far from empty or secure,”

As most of the guards barrelled past to investigate this, two remained directly to them, one of them barrelling right into Hal to his surprise. He blinked in shock as the heavily clad figure hugged him, knowing already this was not Sayer or Kaplain, the height didn't match, and Javier wasn't much of a hugger.

“We thought you were dead this time for sure!” the second figure spoke up, and Hal realised quickly that that one was definitely Kaplain.

“We almost were,” Hal wrangled the second figure off him. It was taller than him, built stronger, and he was too sore to tolerate hugging without an explanation. “Who... get... getoff!” he frowned, “Who's...”

The man released him long enough to pull up the visor on his helmet, and Hal's jaw dropped a bit as he saw the familiar hazel eyes, “Deacon?!”

“Me!” exclaimed the man jubilantly and pounced for another hug. “You absolute pratt will you STOP trying to die?!”

Hal, grunting in discomfort as he tolerated the squeeze this time, exclaimed, “When did you get so goddamn big?!” Even though he had known Sayer could fix the man's size, he had never for a moment imagined Deacon's 'default' as being so much larger than he was! It just had not occurred to him!

“Well this is my normal size!” Deacon released him, “Sayer couldn't properly fix me but he can do this for a short while... like those shields he can put up, they last a little bit but not long.”

“Wait, he couldn't?” Hal frowned.

“No... something about the magic that made me this way still affecting me, he can't get rid of it but he can counter it for short times.”

“I was surprised too,” Kaplain chuckled, “he's bigger than us but we never knew.”

Hal had to admit it made him feel happy to see Deacon normal sized and so exuberant about it. He had been worried he'd done some kind of damage to the man by tolerating his need to hide and take comfort in being small, but no, here he was, full sized, armoured up and ready for a fight. “You made Neil fix you just to come in after me?”

“I'd have come in before backup arrived if they would have let me,” Deacon shot Kaplain a look, and the man shook his head.

“Trust me,” Hal nodded at Kaplain. “He did the right thing. It's bad down there...”

“What's down there?”

Hal looked at Lukan and shook his head, “Let's pull everyone out so I can give a briefing proper, we both need a bit of medical attention, and the men should be aware what they're going to be dealing with.”

Deacon and Kaplain helped the two men out of the building, and the guards filed out around them, leaving four stationed at the door as they were fetched a crate each to sit on and a medic.

While the medic worked on cleaning, disinfecting and bandaging, Hal recounted his story, careful to leave out details of his survival methods and make it sound like sheer good luck and wits. Sayer recorded the account to use as an initial report to superiors, and then Hal gave some orders to the troops about calling more reinforcements, setting up perimeters, and getting investigation and capture teams in place as soon as possible. It was true their resources were stretched thin but this was a very important site, and needed to be sealed and contained before extensive study. Hal himself badly wanted to be a part of it, particularly the part where they got a better look at that shark but he was well aware they had other priorities as well. His promise to the dragons had to take precedent over everything else.

Once he was done giving orders, he went to the van and called Javier while Sayer sent this initial report off, with some added cliffnotes by Lukan. As it turned out Javier's raids on other known Cabal bases hadn't yielded the eggs either, but they had managed to capture a Cabal scientist who had seen and studied them, and who was willing to give up their location in exchange for amnesty. At the time apparently he had not expected the theft of these eggs to turn into a fully graded act of treason, and wasn't onboard with keeping the secret if it meant facing the potential consequences of that. That deal was being brokered with the government by the director of the nearest adjacent ISMI site to his capture, and Javier was waiting on an update with the location of the eggs. The raids had, however, been massively successful at diminishing Cabal facilities and stretching their resources, more than they could ever have hoped, so that was a silver lining to the thus-far unsuccessful situation. They had recovered a mass of artefacts and creatures that they never knew of or never expected to see again, but nothing that seemed to be labelled the way Hal described the capability of the predator artefact. So at that present time, it remained missing.

After that, Hal and his team were loaded back into a van, politely thanked for finding an even bigger mess for the Institute to clean up, and sent back to the safehouse where the dragons waited to rest until Javier got a location on the eggs.

They stopped for food on the way, with Deacon sticking to Hal like glue the whole time. Even Lukan had loosened up somewhat now, and joked a bit more freely with the others despite his hypnotism not being in effect. He had, as Hal had advised, stopped while he was with them. The only one he could affect anyway was Deacon, and he was far too distracted being high on the concept of walking around like a normal person again to pay any attention.

When they got home, Hal was quick to excuse himself to the shower, and then bed, he was sore and tired, and wanted to squeeze in at least a couple of hours of sleep before they were dragged off once more to find the eggs. His mind had a lot to process with a new form and fighting monster rabbits alongside a werewolf.

He managed a few blissful hours of sleep before a quiet knock at his door woke him, and he one eyed-ly stared at it without even the most vague understanding of where he was. “Whu?”

“Hal?” the door cracked open and a tall figure stood there, looking uncertain.

“Kaplain?” mumbled Hal, still 90% asleep.

“No, it's me,” the voice was familiar but the scale was not, and Hal had to sit up and squint to see a shock of auburn red hair in the light from the hallway before he realised it was Deacon.

“Oh, Blaine, come on in, what's up?” Hal sat up sleepily, grimacing as this strained his many bandaged wounds.

“Can't sleep,” replied the man, lingering by the door, looking lost.

Hal tilted his head, turning and putting his feet on the floor, “Nightmares?”

“No, nothing like that it's just... quiet... out here. And big. I haven't been alone for a moment since all this began and it feels strange,” he hesitated then backed up a step, “Sorry, I didn't want to wake you... you're hurt and you almost died again today and...”

Hal nodded a little as he started to get a grip on what was troubling the man. “Blaine. Stop being a moron. Come over here.”

Still visibly hesitating, far more now than Hal had ever seen him while he was tiny, the man obeyed, eyes cast down at the ground.

Hal stood, a bit slow and hesitant with his injuries, and found himself still a full head shorter than Deacon. “You know you can always talk to me, right?” he said, looking up at the familiar, unfamiliar face.

“I know.”

“Even when you think your problems are silly.”

“Yeah...”

“Good. Now get in the bed.”

“Huh?”

“I want to sleep, and you want to sleep, but you don't want to sleep alone, right?”

“Yeah...”

“So get in the bed.”

“It's not weird for you?”

“I mean... it would be, if you hadn't already spent the last goodness knows how long actually literally inside me, I don't see how sharing a bed could possibly be weirder than that.”

“Well no... but...”

“You're didn't come here to ravish me, and I certainly have no desire to be ravished, so we're agreed on that, correct?”

“Yes, very.”

“Then get in the bed, I want to go back to sleep.”

“Just like that?”

Hal let out a tired little sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Blaine... I can tell society has imprinted upon you that there is something inherently sexual about two people sharing a bed, but allow me to pop that delusion for you. We've been sharing a bed for several weeks or however long, and it's only a problem for you now that you're taller than me?”

“Well... when you put it like that...”

“Exactly,” Hal sat down on the bed, “Your resizing will wear off in a few hours and you'll be back to bite sized again.”

Deacon shut the door and quietly sidled over to the other side of the bed, sitting down and slowly laying himself in it.

Hal lay down, yawning quietly, “I don't get it... you seemed elated to be back to normal at first...”

“I was... until I had to be alone with it and the truth caught up with me that I just... don't feel the same sense of belonging when I'm like this. I'm just the same big dumb idiot that fell into that ballpit, that got chewed on by tigershark... this seemed like a fresh start in disguise for me and I never realised until I went back...”

Hal nodded a bit, “We all make mistakes. Heaven knows I've made plenty, they're documented through the archives of the ISMI. But I understand, and I've already told you, I'll support your decision on all of that, whatever you decide I'm with you.”

“Thanks Hal,” the man messed with the covers a bit, then seemed to settle, and Hal swiftly found himself drifting off. Soon, he was deeply asleep again, deep enough that he didn't feel the sensation of the covers shifting when the magic gave out on Deacon and the man returned to his former, small size. Deeply enough that he didn't feel gentle pawing at his side.

Deeply enough that he didn't feel the small body clambering up onto his chest and settling there, relaxed at last.

He finally woke when his phone rang instead, blinking resentfully at the light creeping through the blinds as he grabbed for it. “Hello?”

“Hal? Javier here,”

“Hey, is there news?”

“There is, good news. The scientist has given up the information we needed, another base, but I know you got awful torn up on that last mission... you want in?”

“Of course, when are we going in?”

“This evening, so you've got time to sleep on it if you want.”

“No need, we're seeing this through. We're in.”

“Okay, the cars will be by to pick you up around ten tonight then.”

“Great, I look forward to seeing you.”

They said their goodbyes and Hal dropped the phone onto the bedside table, blinking in surprise when a small, familiar voice spoke up, “Good news?”

Hal lifted the covers to see a much more familiar looking Deacon laying on his chest. “Oh, so now it's not weird for you?” he asked, grinning.

“Nope. Now it's fine.”

“I don't think I will ever quite understand you. But yes, good news, they have been given the location where the eggs are stored... but we need to do a raid, tonight.”

“Well that's great! Not the raid part, but knowing where they are... are you going to tell the dragons?”

“No, not yet. I do not want to give them false hopes. Once we have laid eyes on the eggs. Only then will I feel safe to tell them.”

“That's probably wise... they've had enough heartbreak.”

Hal nodded, “Well. I don't know about you but I'd like to catch a few more hours of sleep.”

“That sounds good. You need it.”

“You... want in?”

Deacon leaned up on his elbows, considering this. “Yes. And this time, you Irish fuckwit, no more leaving me behind. You keep getting into trouble without me, and it's not fair. I can't take the stress of sitting and waiting in the van while you get maimed again.”

Hal let a small look of pain slide across his face, betraying him somewhat. “But... what if something happens and you get badly hurt... I don't know if I could live with myself...”

“And I have told you again and again... I don't care. If we were regular partners in the ISMI you'd have to deal with me walking around and taking all my own risks and stupid decisions and you'd not be able to stop me, right?”

“Right.”

“So why can't you accept this stupid decision?”

Hal let out a frustrated little sigh, “Because I worry that if something happens to you it will be my fault.” His voice thickened a little bit as he spoke, “I... I couldn't do anything to stop what happened to my brother. He's gone because I couldn't save him. I wasn't smart enough, wasn't skilled enough, to prevent what happened or fix it... so now I... have to protect everyone else from getting hurt.”

“Except for you.”

“I'm not worried about me...”

“I know you aren't, but I am. So are the others. You're burning yourself and burning yourself and you're going to burn yourself out because you try to save everyone except you. And if I can prevent that by forcing you to take better care of yourself by being with you... then I will.”

Hal sighed, reaching up to gently grasp the small man and lift him up, looking up at him with questioning eyes. “Why take that risk for me?”

“Because you're my friend Hal... and because you're worth saving. You seem to think you're worthless, and that your life falls below everyone else's in value but it doesn't. Just because you feel like you're not good enough doesn't mean that you're right. It doesn't mean you just get to throw yourself away. Literally everyone at the institute looks up to you as some kind of lucky charm, a walking bank of knowledge, and when you step onto a site, no matter how dire the situation, you raise their spirits just by being there. You have worth. Just because you couldn't save one person that nobody could have saved doesn't change that. Let me tell you one thing this particular big dumb idiot has learned. You don't get to decide that you're worthless. You don't have the authority to make that valuation objectively. Your worth isn't just what you're worth to you. It's more complicated than that.”

Hal hesitated, feeling a bit like a scolded child. “But I...”

“No. No buts. Do you really think this is what your brother wanted for you to feel? Do you think he'd enjoy knowing that because of what happened to him, your life is now forfeit and devoid of value?”

Hal's eyes slid guiltily to the side. “No. He wouldn't have wanted that.”

“Of course he bloody wouldn't! Because you are the only person who seems to feel that way. You have friends now, a team who trusts you implicitly, and I need you to understand me when I say I am not going to let you leave me behind any more so you can go and maim yourself.”

Hal let out a quiet little sigh, “Why didn't you say these things when you were big so I could have hugged you?”

“Because I would have broken your back. I'm a very strong hugger. Now. Why don't you let us both get some sleep?”

Hal nodded, gently lowering the small man towards his face, opening his mouth and starting to welcome his friend inside, warmed immediately by the tingle of familiar flavour, and feeling his belly pinch, lonely for its companion to be returned. He really was starting to get why werewolves liked doing this so much. He swallowed gently, confidently, drawing his friend inside in well practised, calm movements, so comfortable with this now that it felt as natural as eating normal food... but way, way better. He could feel a hedonistic tingle of the god in his mind that always said 'one just isn't enough' but, as nice as more would be in some ways, generally speaking, Deacon was enough. He gave the tiny feet a gentle little push with his fingertips as they passed between his lips, his head arched back against the pillow to allow his friend a straight shot down. He realised he'd never done this laying down before. It felt different, as though the process was slower, and the weight of the small body intensified by falling on his other organs at this angle. As his mouth cleared, he relaxed in place, a hand resting patiently over his stomach as he exhaled, like a puzzle with just one piece missing, about to feel that last bit of himself slide into place.

His belly let out a little groan as the heavy shape of his friend was deposited inside, warm and tingly and so very alive. Deacon shifted under his hand, feeling around to get his bearings, the tiny hands getting into the ripples and crevices as the small man sought out his comfy spot, and settled into it with a heavy yawn. Hal quietly licked his lips, savouring the last little tingles of spiciness, and pulled the covers protectively up over his middle. Tiny Deacon was very different to big Deacon. It baffled him that someone who had been almost too timid to come into the room a couple of hours ago had just lectured him on self worth.

He had some thinking to do.

He woke up again a few hours later, feeling as well rested as he was going to get, and quietly went to check on things around the house.

Doc had set up a camp bed just outside the hot tub room, not wanting to sleep in the damp, but not wanting to remove himself from the dragons' sight while he had their egg. He was settled into that now, looking really far too big for it, but comfortable despite that.

Hal smiled a bit and leaned over the man to see the two dragons settled in the hot tub, sleeping peacefully. Good. He snuck past and headed downstairs to the kitchen, starting to make some coffee.

Once he had his cup, he took his tablet and headed to the living room, planning to formalise his brief report from the day before into writing. He was just seating himself when the sofa opposite him moved. At least, on first glance in the half darkness of dawn, he thought it did. After a brief moment of confusion, he realised it was Lukan, in his wolf form, large enough to occupy the entire bed of the couch.

“We have beds you know,” he said, as the gleaming eyes turned on him.

“I am aware,” the wolf spoke, stretching his legs. “But I was comfortable here, and why put the effort into moving when I am comfortable?”

Hal shrugged, “Alright but don't come crying to me when you get a bad back,” he settled onto the sofa and powered up the tablet. “Are you feeling better?”

“I have healed a lot, not entirely but progress has been made,” confirmed the creature with a yawn.

“Good, good,” Hal took a moment to get into the reports archive and look through what was already occupying the space labelled for their investigation of the site. It was just the video of the briefing he had given the men, with some cliffnotes from Lukan and Sayer himself. His email inbox had a few new messages as well, mostly from Brown asking for a more detailed report asap and an update on the dragons, and other general ISMI business. He heard the sofa creak as Lukan shifted, and assumed the werewolf was settling back down to sleep as he moved back to the reporting program and started to type in a few initial words, considering them carefully. He was just thinking back to how the mission had started so that he could get it in chronological order when he spotted a pair of eyes directly behind the screen and almost dropped it in surprise. “Whoa there,” he lowered the tablet, “We talked about personal space, remember?”

Lukan sat down, his shape far too large to be compared to a wolf, but just like one in every other way. “Sorry.”

“How can I help you?” asked Hal. “If you want coffee there's some fresh in the kitchen.”

“I was actually hoping for something more... substantial.”

Hal sighed a bit, “Look you can cook for yourself, unless you were hoping I'd nip out and buy you some pedigree chum?”

The werewolf let out a chuckle, “You misunderstand me Hal.”

“What do you mean then-...” Hal frowned as he re-analyzed the werewolf's words and caught the subtext. “Whoa, no. We're not at that stage of trust yet dogboy.”

The werewolf's ears flopped back and his eyes went large. Hal actually watched the pupils dilate to appear more adorable. “We're not?”

“Hey, remember your fancy eye tricks won't work on me,” the biologist warned, “You can look as cute as you want, we're not close enough for me to trust your stomach just yet.”

Lukan's ruff visibly puffed out, and the eyes grew even larger. He genuinely looked like a puppy begging for a treat!

Hal pinched the bridge of his nose, “Why does literally everything seem to want to eat me?” he muttered, reaching out and bonking the werewolf on the nose. “Stop that. I'll make you a deal.”

One ear rose curiously to attention.

“You be the one to get those eggs out in the raid, and I'll let you get a free meal. You want a taste of me that bad, you should be willing to work for it. If anyone else gets them out, me, ISMI or cabal included, no meal for you.”

The werewolf seemed to consider this for a moment before a slightly sly grin spread across his face, replacing the begging expression. “I see you're a man that knows how to motivate someone. Alright then. You have a deal.”

Hal shook his head as the werewolf withdrew back to his sofa, wondering to himself again why everything wanted a taste of him so badly. He kept half an eye on the werewolf this time as he raised his tablet and continued to work on the report.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

<< First || Previous || Masterlist || Next >>

Just a whole bunch of Hal and Deacon being (kinda) wholesome. Neither of them are very good at this are they?

[llaberration]

I.S.M.I - Chapter Twenty Eight

“Wh...” Hal backed away from the bars, glancing up to see two glittering predator's eyes at about eight feet in height, emerald green edges with a turquoise tint around the pupil. But these were not the staring eyes of the wild predators he'd been dealing with. He spotted pointed, upright ears and a long, canine muzzle. “Lukan?” he asked after a moment.

“The same,” confirmed the werewolf.

“Took a bit of a fall did we?”

“Searching for you, yes.”

“Any of your gear still work?”

“Dunno, I adopted this form when I was attacked, the gear is in my human form. But... I have a few questions of my own agent O'dwyer...”

“Long story,” muttered Hal. “But nobody knows about this and it'd be a lot easier if you kept it that way.”

“Keeping secrets from the Institute? That's... spicy.” He watched the werewolf's lips peel back from his razor teeth in a wet, amused grin.

“Yeah? And I suspect I'm not the only one so get your werewolf ass out here and help me find an exit.”

“Only if you answer me some questions.”

“Only if you answer me some.”

“Fair, how do I get out?”

“Get climbing.”

“Shit.”

Hal waited while the massive creature hopped up the bars, heaved itself out and dropped down beside him with a thud. “Any more of those things?”

“I don't know. There's a chance we're safe for now, the birds seem to be hunting by sound so if there were more of them they'd be on us already.”

“What about the deer?”

“They're a bit less direct, those are the ones we should watch out for.”

“How is anything even alive in here?”

“Most of it's not,” Hal gestured to the elephant skeleton. “A few seem to have slipped through the cracks. Probably been living on rats and wildlife. Their own little macabre ecosystem.”

“You know what they are?”

Hal shrugged, “Sort of. Found a notebook down here. The cabal were experimenting on some kind of artefact that makes everything into predators... or, apparently, if it's already a predator, makes it more dangerous.”

“Sounds fun. Speaking of which you... uh... going to explain how you're alive? I saw that deer you impaled in there and just watched you break that bird's neck like a twig. Care to... elaborate?”

Hal sighed, shaking his head, “Not here, we need some cover in case there's something else loose down here. Follow me.” He turned and took the path he had taken before, back to the small lab, and squeezed inside. The werewolf followed silently, still in his larger, man-wolf form, clearly deeming it safer for now should they get into another scrap.

Hal pulled the door up after them and took a moment to listen before leaning back against the wall, “We're safe-ish in here, there's only one entrance so if we keep an eye on it we're safe-adjacent at least.”

“Soooooo. That explanation?” the massive, dark furred shape still had a largely emotive face, and at that moment, was looking curious, but in a firm, serious manner. Hal knew he couldn't dodge the question on this one.

The biologist let out a little sigh, shaking his head. “Got myself into a little situation a while back. Long story. Punched a god, ended up in an overly complex catch-22 game... contract... type thing with him where I ultimately inherited some of his powers,” he said, watering the truth down a little bit. “I can hunt with enhanced strength and skill, more than a regular human. Better instincts. That's about it.”

“Enhanced healing too from the looks of it?” The werewolf pointed at his lacerated leg, which had, in all fairness, stopped bleeding already.

“Yeah, tougher, more resilient.”

“Interesting,” the werewolf's eyes narrowed. “Everyone thinks of you as some kind of lucky charm, turns out all along you've just been tougher than people realise.”

Hal held up his hands, “In fairness, this is all extremely recent. Up until the last month or so I've genuinely just been a regular jammy bastard,” he knew this was a lie, but under the technicality that he hadn't 'inherited' the powers until that time period, it was more of an exaggeration of the truth. “How about you then? I know damn well you're twisting the truth with the institute as well.” This was another lie, he more suspected it than knew it. He'd sensed something strange about this werewolf since meeting him, something about the cold staring eyes and the way the creature sat taking things in.

“You're right,” the werewolf shrugged. “But it's more under a classification issue the institute has with werewolves than something I have intentionally hidden. They only classify us by type and subtype when all bloodlines should classify as their own sub-subtype.”

“In the same way your eyes identify your bloodlines?”

“Yes. Each bloodline has 'specialities' so to speak. Mostly these are things like tougher skin, resistance to poison or disease, a specialised ability to sense fear... you know, that kind of thing.”

“And yours?”

The werewolf grinned, his eyes glittering with what Hal knew was a touch of magic. “My eyes see things unseen, and have an inherent ability to hypnotise.”

“I thought all boss werewolves could do that?”

“They can, with effort and concentration. With me it's more of a passive effect but it only works on regular humans and lower life. I don't have to do it intentionally, I can just... instil trust in them, make them like me a little more, warm to me a little faster with nothing but eye contact.”

“That's how you immediately knew my team were different, because none of them were co-operating when you were staring at them.”

“Exactly. If anything it freaked them right out. It's also why your friend Deacon took to me immediately after I video-chat with him.” The werewolf snorted, “He's the only bloody normal one among you!”

Hal shrugged, “Why though? Don't people like you anyway?”

“Humans, most humans, are always subtly afraid of werewolves. We are predators, they can't help but feel it, that concern that we could just eat them at any time.” He made a munching motion with his considerable jaws, “I just... use my abilities to ease that fear. Make myself more likeable. Your lot however, reacted differently.”

“Duh, because the staring made them uncomfortable. People don't like to be stared at.”

“Unless they're being hypnotised,”

“Well yeah.” Hal really hadn't expected the man to front the information so readily.

The werewolf chuckled softly, shrugging. “So, I haven't lied to the institute. They've just failed to categorise me correctly.”

“And I haven't lied either. Nobody has asked if I am abnormal, and a medical professional among them knows about my 'condition' so...”

“In a sense neither of us has lied,”

“And in that case I would hope neither of us needs to say anything to anyone else.”

“Deal?”

“Deal.”

Hal still felt like there was something more, but was relieved he had managed to pull a partly invented bargaining chip out of nothing more than a mild suspicion. In any case, they still had another, much more significant problem. “So, we need to get out of here. There must be a door or exit somewhere.”

“I think it's reasonable to assume the cabal didn't get down here by falling through the roof on their daily commute, so yes.”

“I haven't found it yet though. Mostly because I was trying to avoid that murderbird,”

“If we're alone for now we should take advantage of it,”

“How about your equipment? Can we call the others and let them know we're alive?”

“We can give it a shot,” the werewolf looked at the door intently for a moment, pointed ears twitching lightly, then, when he heard nothing, he began to change, shifting back down to his human form, which, in fairness, was still pretty damn large. “Let's take a look...” he tapped at his earpiece, which gave no sign of life, showing they were out of signal range, and he must have landed on his institute tablet because it was cracked and useless. “Nope, the earpiece might be out of signal down here, and the tablet, well-” he held it up.

Hal sighed, nodding. “We're on our own then. That's a problem, I don't want the others to do anything stupid coming after us.”

“Hopefully they'll follow protocol and wait for backup. How are they at rule following?”

“Kaplain is a stickler for it. Sayer will go along with what he says and Deacon... Well he'd break the rules if he could but...”

“He's snack sized so he can't?”

“Whoa there, 'snack sized'?!” Hal exclaimed, his tone offended.

“Sorry,” the werewolf held up his hands, “I forgot humans are so sensitive about-”

“He's at least meal sized,” interrupted the biologist with a wink, then turned back to the door. “Come on. We need to find an exit before more company appears. I went left before and found nothing, so we need to try right, hug the wall and see what we find.

“No problem. But I'm still going to stay in my combat form, just in case.”

“Seems reasonable to me,”

“You going to be alright?”

Hal nodded, “I'm battered but I assure you I'm not down,”

“Good.” The werewolf shifted back to his larger, more intimidating shape, and then Hal made for the door once again, quietly pushing it open and peeping out. No sign of trouble, no sound. He waited a moment or two longer, straining to hear, then gave up and swiftly moved to the right, his movements as silent as possible on the concrete flooring. He still had his boots tied around his neck, so he was as stealthy as he could be, delicate with each step.

They moved in unison along the wall, pausing occasionally to listen, but the silence was absolute, if there was anything else down here it was sufficiently silent that even Lukan's ears couldn't pick it up.

After what felt like an age, Hal spotted a shape on the wall that they were approaching, another door, reinforced like the lab one, with a worn out keypad and no sign of life. He approached it, running a hand silently over the handle and glancing at Lukan questioningly. The werewolf nodded, and Hal pushed down on the handle, grunting slightly as it ground against itself as though the mechanism was rusted. He added a little more strength and felt the thing shifting, and finally disengaging its latch with a clang, allowing him to open it with a creak. He opened it about a foot, and then stopped, silently listening. Lukan did the same. Nothing.

After a moment, Hal slid himself quietly in through the gap he had made, looking around. He found himself no longer on a concrete floor, but a metal grating walkway that led off into the distance, suspended above what looked like an empty room. He frowned and raised his torch over the side, lighting the ground below just for a moment to get some colour perspective on the surface he was looking at. It was strange, a long drop into a lowered floor with worn metal or plastic sheeting covering the surfaces up to just below the walkway. He shone the torch around some more, seeing pipes and pumps, and realising he was looking at what had been a huge pool, now empty. The floor of the pool was well below the level of the walkway, so this had been a truly enormous space for something, he would guess at least 5,000 cubic metres, possibly more, so whatever they had been using it for had been pretty damn big. That in itself worried him, and he patted Lukan's furry arm, pulling him in close as he turned off the torch. “It's a tank,” he all but breathed as quietly as possible. “A huge tank.”

“Empty now though right?”

“I'd think so, unless they repurposed it for something that didn't need water.”

“Well let's push on then, if there's nothing to see we can worry about it later.”

“Help me close the door,” Hal grabbed the handle, and the werewolf did the same, helping him pull the door quietly back into place. Then, they set off once more, not at all enjoying walking on the cold, rusted walkway, but he had no intention of putting his boots on and risking giving their position away to something hungry and predatory.

They walked the length of the pool, which was at least as long as a full Olympic pool, possibly longer, and about eight metres deep by Hal's guess, it was impossible to accurately estimate the width, but it was a pretty enormous container for anything, and as yet, he'd spotted no remains in the pool, and no sign of water. Even in the slightly arid environment above ground, there was certainly no way this quantity of water had evaporated over a course of time, which meant it had been intentionally emptied before being abandoned. Why?

Lukan clearly did not possess quite the same investigative curiosity as him, as the werewolf's priority was on surviving, and he gently hurried Hal along with nudges and shoves against his back with hands and head.

When they came to the other end without incident, they were confronted by another door, slightly open and rather rusted, and Hal peered inside, frowning as he saw another huge room, this one full of what looked like huge glass tubes. There were faint shapes inside them, and Hal squinted to see as he stepped through. “Putting my torch on again,” he said, after a moment of listening for any sound in the space.

Lukan grunted an acknowledgement that sounded a little impatient, and Hal flicked on his torch, directing it at one of the tubes and letting out a little gasp at what he saw. It was a huge specimen jar. Some high quality preserving liquid had almost perfectly protected the creature within. It was, or had been, a zebra. Already known as the tiger horse for a bad attitude and the ability to kick a man's head right off his shoulders, this one had been turned into a much more literal translation of the word. Its hooves gleamed with razor edges in his torchlight, long, angry teeth spiked from grotesquely extended upper and lower jaws that had fallen slack during preservation, resulting in the illusion of an angry roar. Hal shivered and took a little step back. Something about seeing naturally herbivore and frugivore creatures changed this way made his belly shift uneasily. Some latent instinct that told him this was wrong.

“Glad we didn't meet that when it was alive,” murmured Lukan.

“There's time yet,” replied Hal almost under his breath as he shone his torch at the next tube along, revealing a furious looking dromedary camel, this one looked like its coarse fur had begun to spike into threatening, barbed quills along its back, along with the normal array of teeth and sharp edged hooving.

The next tube down, a little smaller, accommodated a ring tailed lemur, but that signature tail was raised up, revealing that it had split into two, and each tip contained a deadly looking spike at the end. Its delicate fingertips ended in talon like claws and needle like teeth far too long for its mouth were on full display in a threatening snarl.

“What's in the big one?” murmured Lukan, patting Hal's back.

“What big one?” Hal turned, and saw the werewolf pointing at the opposite side of the room, where a much larger tank stood, shrouded in darkness. It was at least twelve metres long, piquing his curiosity. He couldn't think of many herbivores that would need a tank that long... even the elephant wouldn't. Curiously, he sidled over to the tank, and raised the torch to the slightly cloudy water, feeling his mouth instantly dry up at the triangular tailfin he found inside. Moving swiftly to the other end of the tank, his torch playing through the liquid, he felt his legs get a little weak as more and more of his grey and white discovery was revealed. At the end of the tank, he stopped, face to face with a nightmare made real. Somewhere between Carcharodon carcharius and Otodus Megalodon, this enormous aquatic predator had a face that he could only describe as evil. Even in death, its black eyes glittered with a hardened and hate filled intelligence that showed even up to the moment of its demise it had fully understood the humans were its enemy, and that it had truly despised them. The teeth were too many in number, and were thinner and less triangular than they should have been, with more of a hooked-inwards shape to them. With his torch on the open mouth, Hal was sure he could see a second jaw set inside the first, like a moray eel's Pharyngeal jaw, but he could not be certain without a better look. It had an array of dorsal fins rather than just the one, as well as its pectoral fins being split in several places with visible muscle definition between them, no doubt giving it vastly increased manoeuvrability and dexterity. In fact the musculature of the entire body was wrong, this creature had vastly increased movement capabilities. Even its face showed a tendency towards being able to emote and express far more than a normal shark could. No this was... all wrong.

“Well. Shit.” Lukan stood with his hands on his hips behind Hal, looking at the thing.

“Well shit is right,” Hal gulped, both fascinated and terrified in equal parts at his discovery. “This is... this was... possibly the most dangerous predator on the planet for a while.”

“Before they pickled it.”

“Well... yeah,” Hal shook his head, “The notebook I found said they had tested the item on only one predator but... you'd think they'd start out with something a bit fucking less deadly than a great white shark, arguably one of the planet's most perfect hunting machines...”

“I take offence to that,”

“Aww shut your mouth, you know damn well a werewolf wouldn't do well in a fight against a great white shark, especially this one.”

“Yeah no I think you've got me there...”

Hal blew out his cheeks, still shaking his head, “This is... was the ocean's worst nightmare made real. This is Otodus megalodon but with extra steps... this is...”

“Bad then?”

Hal raised an eyebrow, glancing at the werewolf. “Trust me, if this thing was alive and out in the ocean it would be much more than a small problem. No predator could compete with this, no species could escape or outmatch it. This would be death itself. And our oceans are barely recovering from the 0001 incident. This clarifies for me how dangerous this artefact could be... and as far as I can bet, the cabal still have it,”

“They have lots of dangerous things,” Lukan shrugged.

Hal shook his head, “No you don't get it. Think! They have this artefact, and they have dragons. Potentially.”

The werewolf visibly went still, his hackles rising as he pointed to the tank. “You think they could... or would...?” he let the question hang and Hal swallowed nervously.

“No but I find the fact that they technically have the ability profoundly uncomfortable. I hope... Oh gods I hope... that I am wrong.”

Lukan shook himself, “Come on. Let's get out of here. This is giving me the creeps and we need to get word of this to the institute.”

Hal, no longer window shopping for interesting creatures as his fear settled properly, swiftly moved to the remaining door at the far end of the room and opened it the half-foot it was willing to budge to finally find some stairs. “Thank goodness,” he muttered, sliding himself through the narrow gap and waiting for Lukan to follow.

Their minds firmly on other things now, they both did not notice at first when there was a soft rattling of padded feet on crumbled, sandy dirt. It was only as the sound drew much nearer that Hal twitched and froze, putting a hand out to stop the werewolf, who immediately mimicked his upright, listening position.

Numerous tiny padded feet were moving along the dusty space above and ahead of them. He couldn't put his finger on how many but the soft gathump of their jerky movement pattern made Hal turn his head in confusion. That wasn't one of the deer, and it definitely wasn't a cassowary... it was far smaller in size but far greater in number. “We should go back,” he spoke, his voice not even a whisper, but he knew Lukan would hear him.

“We can't, there's nothing down there but the dead.”

“The dead don't want to kill us. Whatever this is, does.”

“We can fight...”

Hal shook his head, “There's a lot of them. This isn't a-” he froze on the words 'fight situation' as the first of their troubles came into view. He instantly recognised the elongated face and body of the rabbit he had seen in the first specimen jar, but clearly that one had been a youngster. This creature was the size of a collie dog, its body thin and delicate, covered in the thick, tawny fur of a rabbit. Black talons so long that they scraped through the dirt each time it moved adorned long, angular feet, and two long, lancelike teeth extended far beyond its jaw's natural reach, but something told him that like the others, this jaw could now open wider than a regular rabbit's. It stopped at the top of the steps, long ears flicking in different directions as its cold, knowing eyes settled on them. It observed them with calculating calm for a moment then dropped into a low position, its legs tensing to pounce.

When it leapt, it extended its front legs like a feline, long claws out and positioned to grip onto whatever it struck, mouth agape as it readied to hit Hal and cling.

It never met its mark, Lukan's far more powerful jaws struck the thing in midair, breaking its fragile shape with a sharp keening sound and throwing it back up to the top of the stairs with a powerful flick of the head.

However, when they both looked up to see whether it was coming for another round, they found themselves being stared down by at least a dozen more cold, calm eyes, now with a hint of added accusation as they stood over their dead comrade, velvety little noses twitching. He could hear more coming up behind the group as well, their many clawed feet scraping and thudding as they joined the crowd.

Hal took a step back on the stairs, but Lukan stopped him, “That's our way out. We're taking it,” growled the werewolf.

“But there's so many... can't you just hypnotise them?”

“Nope, something about these things, their brains are shut off...”

“So what do you suggest?”

“Fight.”

“What?!”

“Do you have powers or not?”

“Yes but...”

“Then stop acting like a scared. Little. Human,” the werewolf's words were sharp, designed not to offend, but to shock, and somehow, it worked. Hal felt his hackles rising in annoyance at the perceived challenge, and his eyes glittered with a yellow sheen as he shot Lukan a look, seeing the werewolf giving him a self satisfied grin. “Now hurry up and show me you've got some fight, before they get done with their friend.”

Hal blinked, glancing up the stairs and spotting that the reason they hadn't been attacked immediately was because the rabbits were working on cannibalising their fallen comrade, their long teeth tearing chunks out of the corpse with apparent disregard for its species. It was almost enough to distract him from that indignant sensation that had made him want to fight, but a glance at Lukan brought that swiftly back, and Hal turned away from the werewolf, drawing a slow breath as he focused himself. He grasped onto that halfway point that he had accidentally discovered before, the point between human and his other form that had made him far more efficient in the fight, and felt himself start to change. It was a bit different this time, the teeth in his mouth were even longer and sharper than before, his face changed shape a little to accommodate them, his muscles tensed up and grew powerful, and his nails hardened and crew to sharp, razor like claws, also different to before, this wasn't the little hooked cat claws of last time, these were longer, stronger and more dangerous still. A patterned grey and brown pelt grew to cover his skin, making him feel like he could take a hit far more effectively. He had no clue as to why this time was different until the top of his head itched, and two long, forward pointing antlers split from his skull with a very unpalatable crunching. This answered his concerns... this wasn't a partway point between him and the lynx, this was part way between him and all his forms. The deer had contributed its part to this, bringing him new abilities and increased strength in this in-between stage.

“Wow you're... some kind of ugly,” Lukan grinned at him.

“That's a lot coming from you dogboy,” replied Hal, his voice harsh, forced through new vocal chords. “I'm still figuring all this out okay? It's a halfway point between me and my other shapes, I'm not a fan either but it's designed for killing, so if you're set on this, let's do it.”

Lukan grinned as he took a step forward on the stairs, and every single one of the rabbits rose to hiss at him, blood staining their chests and mouths. “Sorry boys, we're going this way, either move or get killed,” he growled.

The creatures all tensed up, bracing their powerful legs for a leap, and began to launch at the werewolf one-by-one.

Hal jumped in as the attack began, ducking to avoid Lukan's arms as he flung the creatures to the side, joining in by swinging his claws at the bodies as they scattered, slicing them open to make sure they did not get back up once they landed. Both Hal and the werewolf were both slowly climbing the stairs, their intent on escape rather than wiping out the enemy, but knowing they had to kill to achieve that.

One of the rabbits, a bit smarter than the others, leapt under Lukan's swiping claws, twisting its body to bounce off his chest instead and rising with the power of a coiled iron spring directly in front of his face, digging its front claws directly into the flesh beneath his eye and biting hard into his muzzle while the back talons began to rip into his neck, causing the werewolf to recoil with a yelp.

Hal turned and grabbed hold of the creature by the neck, pulling it off and hurling it against the wall, giving Lukan a shove to get him back on balance and moving up the stairs again. It didn't take the werewolf more than a half second to recover himself and focus back on task, just in time for another ambling group of the rabbits to appear around the corner to investigate all the noise, hissing threateningly as they leapt to attack.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

<< First || Previous || Masterlist || Next >>

I just love me some horrifying monstrosities. Hal apparently isn't such a fan.

[llaberration]

I.S.M.I - Chapter Twenty Seven

Hal let out a slow breath, shifting his weight ever so slightly as he listened down the dark corridor ahead of him. Not a sound. He strongly suspected something was down here but... he hadn't any evidence of it.

They had gotten split up by a minor roof collapse at the site of an old Cabal base, suspected to be abandoned, but were just sweeping to make sure. The base was a lot like the one they had been holding the dragons at, a mass of underground tunnels under an old farming complex, but this one had been empty for several years, so a lot of the tunnels were collapsed and half filled with sand and dirt. This base hadn't been abandoned after a raid though. The institute had known about it and had been planning one when it was without warning suddenly left empty. Why the cabal had done this was unknown. Now, they were just making sure the fanatics hadn't come back to use it as a backup hiding place for the eggs.

It was mostly derelict anyway, so when a quantity of sandy dirt and ceiling panel had come down between Hal, Sayer and Kaplain, cutting the biologist off, they had quickly established, through radio contact, that they should be able to re-find each other with a few strategic turns.

But now Hal was on his own, something was making Hal feel as though the cabal might have left something here when they had gone. He didn't know what it was, but there was a sensation like something crawling down his spine every time he turned a dark corner. His hunter's instinct was telling him, in no uncertain terms, that something was off about his surroundings. But he was still new to these feelings, so interpreting them correctly was very tricky, he still had a lot to learn, and he was suddenly feeling as though he should have put more time and effort into doing that.

“Hal? What's up?” He had left Deacon in their operations van with several of the American ISMI team to help be their eyes and ears for this investigation. The small man had wanted to come with him of course, but something about this place got Hal's hackles up, so he had insisted his friend stay where it was safe. Deacon was still tapped into his body-cam though, watching what he was doing.

“Got a bad feeling,” murmured Hal quietly, looking ahead at the darkness. His torch was effectively lighting about ten metres of sand filled passage ahead of him, with offshoots to the sides, and while he couldn't hear a sound that made him believe it was anything other than abandoned, he felt as though there was a presence. “Where are the others?”

“Kaplain and Sayer are on the same level as you, about twenty metres west, trying to angle your way. Lukan is on the surface level near the old buildings.” They had all been given trackers which connected to a hub in the van, and Deacon's tablet was tapped into that so Hal knew where everyone was in real time. That, at least, clarified that the presence that he was feeling was not any of his team. “Okay, thanks. I'm going to take my earpiece out for a second so I can hear better, I'll put it back in as soon as I can, okay?”

“Got it.”

Steeling himself, Hal moved forwards silently, taking out his earpiece and pocketing it, his attention hyper focused on his senses. He could definitely hear something ahead of him in the darkness. It sounded like something was skittering or scraping about. He scowled as he got visions of giant spiders. He had dealt with them before and certainly did not care to do so again. His foot scraped against something dry and brittle, he glanced down, initially freezing when he thought he saw bones but after a moment he realised his mistake. Not bone, antler? Horn? Something of that ilk but... not quite identifiable, it looked strangely misshapen. Perhaps the sand and time had worn it down?

Ahead of him in the darkness, he heard a huff of sound... air being drawn in a slow breath by something. Something sounded like it was sniffing the air, sniffing for him. Hal searched the darkness with his flashlight, but saw only more dust and cracked walls. This wasn't working. He was going to walk right into danger if he carried on like this.

He closed his eyes, reaching out with his unfamiliar instincts, sensing ahead into the darkness, then clicked off his torch. He could just hear the faintest sound from his removed earpiece as the body-cam, unable to night-vision, went dark, but he couldn't afford to stop and worry about it now. He waited a moment for his eyes to adjust, then opened them, finding his surroundings greyed out, but much clearer for him now.

And there it was. Looking back at him. On the precise periphery of where the torch beam had ended, was a grey shape with two glittering eyes. It was a skinny husk of a creature, but in possession of long, powerful legs that ended in delicate little hooves. Two large, leaf shaped ears were forwards, alert in his direction, unmistakeable when framing the delicately shaped face of the deer. But he knew in his gut this was not a normal deer. First of all, underground was not a normal environment for a deer. Secondly, and far more chillingly, it had forward facing eyes pointed right at him, rather than the lateral eye placement of a regular deer. It shifted ever so slightly, and he saw as it did so that the muscles and bones in its legs, shoulders and hips were structured very differently. They were placed in a far more feline manner. Dextrous, and designed for leaping... pouncing, and stalking. Its antlers arched forwards like those of a bull, but with many more threatening, sharpened tips. The shape of the face was off as well, broader and more angular at the jaw, with jowls that went back much further than the delicate little lips of a normal deer. That jaw was designed to open wide, and bite like a steel trap. This was a predator.

Suddenly, he began to understand how Lance had been so certain about the fungus creature being dangerous. Even without the biologist in him, he felt in his bones that this was another predator. A predator like he was.

As their eyes locked, the deer knew he could see it, and it froze. He heard a strange creaking rattle emerging from the creature's throat. It was growling. The deer. Was growling.

Hal weighed his options. Running was a possibility. He doubted he could outrun it in a dead sprint, but in the tunnels but it was theoretically possible. Fighting was also an option. He had been provided a small shock weapon and a knife, he didn't ever relish the thought of killing but he had always agreed with himself that if it was kill or be killed, he would do it.

He moved ever so slightly, positioning himself against the wall so that he was covered on one side, and turned as if to glance behind him to check his escape route, but a sharp sound drew his attention back to the deer. It was hissing at him. Sounded like pressurised steam escaping, a hollow, threatening noise. Why was it doing that? Why was it making any sound at all? Predators were silent when hunting... ever since he had seen it this creature had kept making one sound or another as if to keep his attention. This realisation sent a jolt down Hal's spine like an electric shock, and he threw himself to the opposite wall just in time for a powerful set of jaws to clack shut on empty air where his shoulder had been a moment before. He snatched the knife from his belt and whipped it out towards the second deer that had been stalking him, feeling it strike flesh, but only a glancing blow. The creature bellowed a strange, hollow, bleating cry and then lowered its head, ramming those sharp antler points at him. Hal raised his heavy booted feet and kicked out, greeting the deer with a heavy thud and pushing it back, as its delicate, pointed hooves had no grip on the sandy floor. He grunted, legs braced against the antlers as he heard a sound to his right. He grabbed his torch and swiftly pointed it towards the first deer, flicking it on, blinding the aggressive animal mid-strike. It reared back with another horrible cry, and Hal turned it on the second deer as well, driving it away as he flicked the torch off and scrambled down an adjacent tunnel. He grabbed his earpiece from his pocket and swiftly spoke into it without getting it into place, “Deacon we have multiple large aggressive life forms on the second floor down, highly aggressive, they look like modified mule deer stags but they're predators. Teeth, antlers and muscle. I'm going to try and get out but I could use a werewolf down here if he's got a moment.” He didn't have a chance to put the earpiece in before a clatter of hooves drew his attention and he stuffed it back into his pocket, grabbing a handful of sand and casting it into the face of the approaching stag. He darted down another corridor, grunting in pain as his wound from the previous day objected to the mistreatment. He was already too disorientated to get a proper idea of which direction the exit lay, but he knew he'd taken a left and then a right, so if he took two more rights and then a left he'd be roughly back where he started.

He ducked as a heavy shape barrelled at him, and shouted in pain as a razor sharpened hoof sliced across his shoulder. He lashed out with the knife, rewarded with a splatter of blood and a pained squeal. He yanked the knife free and scrambled through dirt, looking for a right turning tunnel, hearing something skittering after him at speed. He saw an opening in the walls, a right, and took it without pausing to look, gasping as he realised too late that the floor here had collapsed, gaping away below him into darkness. He skidded to a halt, hearing the crumbling concrete of the floor groaning under him as he tried to turn back, but his pursuer had no understanding of the danger as it loomed from the darkness, head lowered and sharpened horns towards Hal.

Hal felt a thud of strange pressure in his head as unfamiliar instincts took hold. His muscles tensed like steel cables and his eyes yellowed at the edges as he reached out to catch the antlers of the charging beast, sharp tips perforating his hands as the full force of the creature struck, driving them both over the edge and into the black abyss below.

They fell. Hal wasn't sure for how long. The darkness made it impossible to estimate, but it felt like a very long time. When the cracking thud of the impact came, he was blinded for a moment by a flurry of spiky, spinning white shapes in his mind before the sound of harsh breathing cut through his consciousness. He wasn't alone.

Those hunters instincts woke once more, and he was on his feet in an instant, his nails and teeth itching as he tasted his own blood from the fall, and saw a grey shape circling him. Where was he? It looked like a small enclosure? High railings surrounded them in a seven-ish metre square, and there was something else... something bleached and white and sharp in the corner... bones? The biologist Hal did not have time to analyse, he was swiftly driven out by the god of the hunt as the deer, panting from its wounds but single minded on its prey, leapt for him.

Hal ducked, letting the disorientated creature soar right over him, dropping low to avoid as it slashed at him with its rear hooves as it passed. He was trapped with it... where was his knife? He couldn't see it and it must have fallen from his grip when he had dropped.

He turned to face the deer, panting, the two sets of instincts battling for control as the creature slid on the concrete floor and turned to face him once again. One long, hard gaze into those half starved eyes told him he had no choice now. It was kill or die, and as the deer charged once more, Hal made his choice and dropped his long-forced control, allowing the hunting instinct to grip him fully, embracing it. He felt himself start to change, his body shifting, taking on aspects of his lynx form, but only small ones that would help him here. His teeth grew longer, and his nails hooked over at the ends of his fingers, and the muscles in his legs tensed, far more powerful than before. He was not becoming the lynx but he was taking on parts of its feral nature... shaping his body to something in between his two forms, the best of both, preparing to meet his opponent.

When the deer reached him next, Hal leapt on powerful legs over the lowered antlers and gripped into its back with his new claws, tearing a series of deep wounds. He took no joy in this but some deep voice within him, was thrilled by the challenge. He leapt away from the creature as it skidded and spun to face him once more, this time not lowering its head for the horns but running forward with its mouth open, rows of oversized, razor teeth on full display, snapping at him. He tried to dodge but the deer struck the ground ahead of him with its long legs. The razor sharp points on its hooves gouged the concrete where they made contact, he was forced to adjust his movement, giving the creature the delay it needed to bring its head in and bite hard into his bicep, ripping its head backwards, tearing a chunk of muscle clear with it. Hal shouted in pain, reaching out and grabbing the creature by the antler with his still functional arm and throwing it to one side. It kicked as it went, powerful front legs striking one of his thighs as it went and slicing it open. He grunted in pain and quickly looked around for something to finish the job. He spotted something huge, sharp and white to his side, and when the deer came in for another strike, he twisted himself underneath the object, grabbed the stag by the neck and jaw, and slammed it as hard as he could into the pointed white shape, piercing the predator's skull and neatly ending its pain with an abrupt bleating shriek.

He panted heavily, waiting to see if the creature would somehow still live, his eyes dilating wildly as he observed his kill, the adrenaline and the thrill of the hunt taking over as quiet enveloped them other than the pulsing of escaping blood. He could hear its heart as its beats faded, and a hiss of breath as its lungs emptied for the last time. Then instinct seized him in a powerful new victory throe, and Hal lost himself to the taste of his victim's blood, opening his jaws and leaping upon his fallen opponent.

When Hal regained himself, he was lying silently on hard concrete. He felt... wet. Sticky wet.

Grimacing, he did a brief assessment of himself. He was hurt in several places but not fatally... in fact he seemed to have already done some measure of healing. His arm was still missing a good hunk of skin but the exposed muscle seemed intact once more. He felt like he'd been on the wrong end of a car accident. He didn't remember the landing having hurt that much but... perhaps the adrenaline had been easing the pain a bit. He appeared to have all of his other limbs as well. Bruised and battered and sliced up but intact. His body-cam was shattered beyond repair, and the earpiece was missing from his pocket. He located his torch on the ground and switched it on, getting a proper, in-colour look at himself and his surroundings. He was in a large enclosure clearly designed to contain an animal of some kind. It had concrete flooring and heavy duty iron bars that stood at least five metres high. There was an abundance of smeared blood, and to one side was an enormous skeleton. A glance told him this had, at one time, been an elephant. Not a normal one though. The teeth in its skull were not the flat, regrowing molars of the intelligent beast that he knew. The skull itself was the wrong shape, forced to change to accommodate forward facing eye sockets, the leg bones were much more slender and flexible, and the body looked less heavy. More dynamic.

There could be no doubt that this was afflicted with the same thing that had happened to the deer. Speaking of which, the most dramatic detail of the skeleton was the splash of dripping red presented by the deceased predator impaled on what had, at one time, been a tusk. It looked far more maimed than Hal remembered... sure he recalled killing it but... what tore its leg off?

It was at that moment he realise he was covered in blood. Face, hands, shirt. He could taste the blood in his mouth still, tangy and coppery. He looked at what were obviously bite marks around the torn off leg and frowned. Had... he done that? He grimaced and pressed a hand to his head, trying to recall. He had finished the hunt, he remembered a thrill, a sense of victory... and then the taste of blood. He pressed a hand to his mouth. For whatever reason, after he had taken his kill he had felt the need to consume a good part of it. Well. Now he was even more grateful that he hadn't allowed Deacon to come with him. That would have taken a lot of explaining.

Disgusted with himself, and deeply concerned how easily he had lost his control after only allowing a little bit of those new instincts, Hal used his least bloodied shirt sleeve to clean his face, neck and hands, then began searching for a way out of the enclosure. He discovered a man sized gate reasonably quickly, but it was, of course, locked from outside. He scowled at the padlock for a few seconds before starting to climb out over it instead. The bars were not ideal for gripping, but with a little of his increased strength, he was able to manage it. As he slid down the other side, he shone the torch around him. More enclosures like this one.

He landed on the ground as quietly as possible, well aware that the stag had not been alone, and not wanting to attract any more of them. The biologist quickly went and peered into the next enclosure, shining his torch slowly around the space until he spotted the expected skeleton. Skeletons in this case. It took him a good minute longer to identify these ones as they were a bit less distinct than the elephant, but he quickly concluded that they were, or had been, antelope. Like the elephant and the deer, they had been twisted, changed from their graceful, gentle shapes into razor hoofed predators, their horns now arched forwards for goring prey, their muzzles long and full of oversized, pointed teeth. When the cabal had abandoned this place, they had left these animals... whatever they were, here to die.

Feeling a little shiver run down his back at the cruelty, Hal began to stumble his way down a walkway between the cages, torch seeking an end to the space. There had to be a door, or some stairs, he had to get back up to the levels above and find the others. He continued down the seemingly endless concrete path, surrounded on all sides by the towering iron bars, cage after cage of modified, deceased creatures. One he passed had a collapsed side due to some rubble falling from the floor above, and he could only conclude from the hoofmarks on the floor and single shed antler inside the cage that this had been the deer cage. The lucky little bastards had escaped before they had starved.

The initial investigation of the place by the Institute must have been woefully insufficient to not find any of this bottom floor. It was unlikely, even if they had, that they would have been in time to save the animals, but they should have been more thorough nonetheless. He made a mental note to report to this effect. Still, the entrance to this floor had to be be well hidden or it would surely have been spotted given the sheer size of the place. There was a lot more down here than he would have expected in a minor Cabal operation.

He finally found a wall looming before him in the torchlight, with a slightly open, slightly rusted looking door. A dusty, powerless code lock was fitted in the wall beside it, and the reinforced metal frame showed this had, at one time, been a full security door. Still, it might be the exit he was looking for. Or at least somewhere safer and more enclosed to get his head together and assess his best shot at escape. He limped in through the door and shone his torch around the space, finding a lab. Not an exit but perhaps a shelter. He turned and put a bit of effort into heaving the door closed. It creaked and groaned horribly in the large space, but he didn't want a deer getting in. Once he was sure it couldn't be teased open with sharp hooves, he performed a quick search of the space, finding a first aid cabinet and setting to dealing with his more open wounds. Disinfectant fortunately, didn't go off, so he cleaned and bandaged himself up, and did a more thorough job of clearing the blood from his face before taking a moment to draw a slow breath. What on earth had happened to him?

The fight he understood. He had survived, as he always did. He had utilised that new part of himself that he had fought so long and so hard to keep locked in. And then... something else had broken through. An instinct, a hunter's instinct, to claim its kill. He sure hoped that whatever had turned those deer into monsters wasn't contagious because he'd apparently helped himself to it.

He reached into his mouth with a finger and double checked his teeth, glad to find they were normal, omnivorous human teeth. A good sign. The only changes he could recall were the ones he had utilised from his new skillset, so hopefully these creatures, rather than being diseased somehow, were altered in a different way.

Brushing himself off, Hal took a moment to rest and listen, verifying no current attackers were after him, before going to examine the lab he had stumbled into. It had mostly been raided when the cabal had run. Cabinets lay empty of anything other than dust and spiders, computers had been smashed, the hard drives torn out, and equipment had rusted into uselessness. He lifted a specimen jar and shone his torch through it, frowning as he saw the creature inside had been a rabbit, at least at some point. Its face was longer, the eyes, preserved in a fixed, open stare were the focused eyes of a predator. Its trademark rodent teeth at the front had split into two long, tusk like needles, and he could see a row of other sharp teeth in its twisted, open jaw. Its front feet had long, extended black claws and the rear ones were better described as talons, curved and deadly looking. Its entire muscular and skeletal structure was noticeably different; stronger, longer and more powerful. Its body looked more like a whippet than a rabbit. He wouldn't like to guess how fast it could have moved in life.

Putting the jar down he continued his examination of the room, eventually finding a small office to one side that hadn't been tossed as thoroughly. Inside, he opened a desk drawer to find a notebook with the cabal logo on the front. Branded stationary. Of course they had branded stationary.

He flicked open the book and found it to be the notes of one of the scientists here, complete with some relatively competent drawings of specimens. It was by no means a complete record, but a quick glance gave Hal the basic overview of what they had been up to here. The cabal had discovered an artefact of some kind that had unique effects upon creatures that were 'exposed to its effects.' The notebook did not state how this was achieved or what the artefact was, but these effects included evolving creatures in a distinctly aggressive, predatory direction. These traits were passed down to offspring but not contagious in any way. They mostly tested it on herbivorous and omnivorous creatures, and spent time studying and observing the changes. However, as with most things, someone had had to escalate things. Apparently, at some indeterminate point in testing, they had tested it upon an already apex predator, and the resulting lifeform was considered so dangerous to other life that they had been forced to terminate it.

The notebook went into some details about experiments the scientists had suggested, some they had actually proceeded with and some they had not. It did not, however, have anything really very helpful about why the facility was suddenly abandoned, clearly it had been sufficiently sudden that the scientist hadn't had time to write about it.

Pocketing the notebook, Hal searched around for anything else he could use, but there was very little the cabal hadn't taken. No weapons, only basic first aid supplies, and no further information. He found and pocketed a few USB drives in the hope they contained worthwhile data and then limped his way back to the door, pushing it open just enough to get a good listen to the space outside. Could he hear something moving? He was certain he could hear quiet movement on the concrete somewhere, but it didn't sound like hooves. Closing his eyes, he focused harder. Something was definitely moving out there, marked by the faintest little clicks and rustles, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what. He frowned, moving to grab a small metal rod from one of the sides in the lab, and returned to the door, holding it between his hands. He pressed it between his thumbs and fingers to brace the thing under pressure, then released it to flick the object into the darkness. Then he ducked down, straining to hear what happened next as it clattered into some cage bars a good distance away.

There was an immediate reaction from one side as there was a clatter of hooves on the cement. That was the deer... but the other sound had been elsewhere, and much softer. That one had simply fallen silent.

Hal chewed on his lip, listening to the snorting nose of the deer as it searched for the source of the noise, but he was not listening specifically for that, it was the other sound he was after. Whatever it was was significantly stealthier than the deer, because after a moment or two, he heard a thump, and the deer let out a sharp little keening sound. There was a splatter, and the sound of something dropping like a sack of potatoes. Then nothing.

Whatever was down here had done him one favour. It had removed the second deer from the equation. However, it had also proven itself to be a much greater threat. Now Hal had to deal with that. He considered the possibility of using his other form, the lynx... it was much quieter after all, though there was a risk if he ran into one of the others on the upper floors, they might do him some considerable harm in self defence. He reached for the other form, just wanting to reassure himself he still had that ability, since he'd only used small parts of it for a while, but no, there it was, and there was... something else? He hesitated, his face deeply focused and very confused as he felt a second different form, and reached for it, more to identify it than anything else, and swiftly stopped when he sensed what it was. Well. That was a surprise. The words of Slaaneth echoed in his ears as he studied what was new within himself.

“If you want to take on the form of say, a great white shark, no problem, but before you will be able to get that form you will need to consume five pounds of its flesh. Not in one sitting, just over time.”

Whatever amount of that deer he had eaten had clearly qualified it as a 'new predator' shape that he could take. Not yet though, some part of it felt unfinished, not ready to be fully at his disposal. He didn't know whether he should be pleased or horrified, but he could already tell it came with its own new set of abilities. Well. That was... interesting. He didn't have any particularly positive or negative feelings about it right now, but it did make him feel as though his existing senses and abilities had been enhanced by the addition.

It did not, however, gift him the ability to get out of here any more easily. He was still stuck underground with an unknown stealth predator and no clear view of where a way out was other than the hole in the ceiling. Staying put wasn't an option either, merely by existing he made noise and scent, and sooner or later something would catch a smidgen of it and he'd be back on the menu.

The quiet sounds he had heard had been to his right, and the deer sounds had been roughly central. Given that, there was only one logical plan. Go left, follow the walls. He didn't want to go full lynx, as it carried risks if the others came down here. But perhaps just a little.

He backed up and slowly, patiently removed his heavy boots. He pulled the socks off as well and retied the laces to secure the boots around his neck, then stepped out onto the concrete, letting a little of his shifting take hold, just enough to pad the bottoms of his feet a little, and shape his muscle to grant him some of the silent stealth of the lynx. Then he began to walk.

He moved slow, agonisingly careful in each strategic movement, like a cat stalking, he was taking as much time as he deemed it necessary to move with absolute silence. The door behind him was quickly swallowed up in the darkness, but he tried to keep a firm grip on where it was in his head, so that he could flee back there for cover if necessary.

As he passed more and more cages, he began to wonder just how many creatures they had been keeping down here. He estimated he had passed at least twenty of them since he had arrived, and he didn't actually know how much this place extended past his periphery. He did not use the torch now, seeing better without it in the dark, and not wanting it to draw attention from whatever was down here with him.

He was moving for what felt like forever when something suddenly appeared in the darkness ahead of him, a greyscale shape, tall and slender against the blackness of the space. At first, he thought it was a skeleton or statue of some kind because it was so still, but a sharp twitch of its neck dispelled that belief while simultaneously identifying the creature for him.

It had two long, powerful legs that ended in savagely curved claws, and a beak that had, at once time, been slender and pointed, but now was long and jagged, almost as disproportionate as the beak of a toucan, it visibly dragged the head down lower than it was naturally supposed to be carried. This creature would have been pretty damn dangerous even if it was normal, but now he could hear the faint 'drip, drip' of something trickling from its beak, and he quickly spotted the leg of one of the deer creatures was clamped there, still dripping. This was, or had been, a cassowary at some point in its existence. However, it did not seem to have spotted him, forcing Hal to ask himself two questions, first and more importantly; could cassowaries see in the dark. Secondly, how good was their hearing.

He stood absolutely frozen still, not moving, barely breathing, watching the looming dinosaur bird. It didn't move other than the occasional twitch of its head this way or that. It had not seen him, or if it had, hadn't decided he was edible. As he watched it, they both heard something else at the same time. A groan. A groan from something that had a pretty humanoid voicebox. Hal and the Cassowary both straightened up abruptly, their gazes snapping to where the sound had come from in the darkness. It sounded central-ish to the space, and Hal quickly concluded that it came from below the hole in the ceiling. Had someone else fallen down after him? His heart thudded in his chest as he thought of Kaplain or Sayer possibly lying there, hurt and unaware of the danger.

Another groan and the bird was on the move instantly, evaporating into the darkness towards the sound, dropping the leg as it ran towards more prey.

Hal instinctively followed, darting down the nearest walkway towards the source of the noise, forgetting his own escape under the possibility of his friend in danger. He wasn't worried about stealth now, the bird was locked in on the faint sound of someone clambering to their feet, Hal could hear it too, a grunted breath, the rustle of clothing, getting closer as he moved.

He heard the clang of the bird striking the cage first, and was there a moment later, seeing it reaching through the bars with its enormous beak, snapping at a swiftly retreating figure. Hal struck the creature at full speed, slamming its body against the bars with his own weight. The bird shrieked, wriggling like the devil, its long legs kicking out, slicing his chest and knocking him backwards, allowing it to free itself. Hurt but not down, it lowered its head and hissed angrily at him, clattering its huge beak in a display of threat. It was at that inconvenient moment that Hal realised he actually didn't have a plan, or a weapon. He had been reacting only to the knowledge that he had needed to intervene before the bird got to the unsuspecting occupant of the cage.

It struck, enormous beak, readily able to crush bone, snapping towards him. He dodged, grabbed the neck and twisted it, hoping to break it quickly to cause the least possible suffering. The bird's powerful legs lashed out again, cutting into his leg and side as it tried to yank itself free. He felt adrenaline rush through him, cutting loose those hunter's instincts once more, and his eyes glittered as strength drenched his muscles and he gave a hard yank and twist, killing the bird and dropping it where it stood, one talon still lodged in his thigh.

Grunting in pain, he yanked the talon out and collapsed against the bars of the cage to assess the damage.

“I knew it,” chuckled a rumbling voice suddenly beside him on the other side of the bars. “I knew you weren't a regular human Hal.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

<< First || Previous || Masterlist || Next >>

Apologies for going quiet for a bit there. Last month absolutely kicked my ass. It happens sometimes in december, it can get real busy for me real fast both in work and out of it. Going to try and tighten up the schedule for this month to squeeze an extra chapter in to make up for the one missed in the second half of December.

[llaberration]

I.S.M.I - Chapter Twenty Six

As Hal, Deacon, Kaplain and a somewhat sleepy Sayer were starting breakfast preparations, there was a heavy knock on the door, and Hal went to open it, grinning to see Javier's face grinning at him. “Good morning, you don't really have to knock you know, it's more your place than ours,” glancing behind the man, Hal observed that pretty much his entire view was obscured by not one, but two massive forms.

“Yeah but, it's just manners, you know?”

“Uhuh...” Hal leaned out so that he could see at least one of the overly tall men had a familiar face. Doc stood alongside a man of similar height and build, perhaps a few inches shorter, leading Hal to conclude that somewhere along the way he had picked up a second werewolf. Not just any werewolf either, with the size of him he was almost certainly a blood werewolf like Doc. He didn't look to be Albino like Doc though, he had an average tan, like anyone who spent a modicum of time outdoors, and his eyes were a dark tealy blue, and his hair, currently mostly hidden by an ascot cap, was clearly dark. “Are we... buy one get one free on werewolves this week?”

“Oh that,” Javier grinned, “No, the US-ISMI wanted to send one of ours in as well, to show we're still offering every bit of help that we can, and they thought, since the dragons spoke reasonably well of werewolves, they would respond well to a werewolf agent helping out so, this is Agent Lukan Kenway.”

Hal gave a smile, a nod and extended his hand, which the enormous man took and gave a firm, borderline-shoulder-dislocating shake. “Good flight Doc?” asked Hal, looking to the more familiar werewolf, who had an uncharacteristically nervous aura about him.

Doc nodded, tight lipped, “Long, unexpected.”

“Yeah, I can sympathise with that, and apologise slightly for dragging you into my mess once more,” Hal chuckled, gesturing to the door. “Come on in then,”

Javier grinned, offering a bucket to Hal, which he now realised was full of fish, and he let out a laugh. “Breakfast for our draconic guests, great.” He tasked Kaplain with getting the guests seated and coffeed accordingly while he went to see the dragons, feed them, and then persuade them out of their hot tub to come and have a meeting about their next steps.

When he returned downstairs with the two creatures following close at his sides, he found the others seated in the large living room, the two werewolves looking almost comically oversized on the provided chairs there.

Feffin and Olander had a visible moment of hesitation at the room of people, but Hal took a moment to introduce everyone, emphasising that Doc was the werewolf he had called for that he in particular knew he could trust. This reassured the two dragons, and they came to settle with Hal on the sofa, staying close to him, alert and clearly at least somewhat on guard. Everyone understood.

“Great, now we are all here and all coffeed, let's go over what we know,” Javier glanced at Hal, as though checking the biologist was fine with someone else taking the reigns. Hal gestured for him to carry on, and the agent grinned and nodded. “So far, from information we've pulled out of the Cabal Facility's computers, combined with information we have on them already, we have identified three sites where they might possibly have the facility to keep the dragon eggs in ideal to moderate conditions. We have an inside man at one of those facilities who is fairly confident they are not at his placement. This leaves two other likely locations. We are arranging raids on these as soon as possible. However, there are additional, outlying places, unconfirmed locations and a few small outposts that are are also a less likely possibility.”

“Question?” asked Kaplain, raising a hand.

“Of course,”

“If you know about the facilities, and even have people there, why not raid them as soon as you find them?”

“We did used to operate that way, especially in the early days of the ISMI, but we found out, very fast, that the Cabal are like ticks. The more you try to dig them out, the deeper they will burrow. They don't go away, they just learn to hide better. So we send in spies and undercover men to keep an eye on them, and occasionally raid when they obtain something too powerful, or when cruelty gets out of hand. That was the reason we raided the facility they had the dragons at as soon as we found out about it. The cruelty taking place there was too much.” He sighed, “nobody likes doing it this way but if we were constantly waging a hidden war against the Cabal, we would quickly run out of men and money, not to mention the risk of collateral damage to the public.”

Kaplain nodded his understanding and fell silent, gesturing for the agent to continue.

“For these smaller sites, we are sending in small teams, in some cases to confirm activity, or lack thereof. We are going to be spread very thin during this operation, as most agents will be on site for the main raids. So we were hoping your team would be willing to stay long enough to join in?” Javier looked at Hal. “Every body helps.”

Hal nodded, “At this stage, I don't see how I can just leave when Feffin and Olander still need an advocate, as much as we have things to take care of at home, we will stay where we are needed. I promised I would help find the eggs and I fully intend to do so.”

“Excellent,” Javier glanced to the two dragons, “We were hoping that you would be willing to stay here while we search, guarded of course... and with Hal's werewolf... Doc was it? As your handler for the time being when Hal and his team are out with the ISMI hunting your eggs.”

Feffin glanced at Hal, then at Doc, “Could we... at least talk to him first?”

Javier nodded. “We're not going live with any raids today. We're preparing, gathering supplies, and setting assignments for the smaller teams' investigations. This is going to be a huge operation overall, getting ready will take a little time. You can spend today getting to know him and resting.”

Hal glanced at the other werewolf, “And what about this one?”

“He's here as additional security, and he'll be joining your team in the field. In case you need a bit more muscle. You know what the Cabal can be like for using creatures as improvised security. Try to get to know each other since you'll be watching each other's backs.”

Hal nodded, “What's your plan if we don't find the eggs?”

Javier wiggled his hands in an uncertain gesture, “We have a few other ideas. We're already reaching out to all ISMI branches worldwide seeking information. These are the only dragon eggs on the planet that we know of... You can't keep something like that quiet forever. We'll find them.”

Hal saw the somewhat melancholy expression on the dragons' faces, and reached out to gently pat them, one hand on each. “We'll find them,” he repeated.

“Everyone rest and get to know each other,” Javier nodded, “I'll call to see how things are going later. Hal, a word?”

Hal stood, and the two men headed out of the room.

Once in the corridor, Javier asked in a slightly quieter tone, “is your team going to need anything special in the field? I know you have Deacon who's... unusual? Does he require any special equipment? Will you even be taking him with the danger...”

Hal held up a hand, “He'll be coming with us. If I decide he needs to be kept behind in any given situation it will be with with a basecamp or unit. But I do need one thing for him. A drone that he can control from his tablet. Gives me extra eyes.”

“Isn't there a risk taking someone small to somewhere so dangerous? What if he...”

Hal chuckled, feeling Deacon shift slightly in amusement. “Gets separated? Don't worry. That's quite impossible.”

“I... don't understand,” Javier looked worried and confused.

Hal grinned, reaching out and gently taking the Javier's tablet, plucking it right from under his arm. He fiddled for a moment, opening the UK file library and scanning through to their investigation on the Wondermall. “Give that a read. Follow the breadcrumb trail on Deacon and how we dealt with his unique circumstances. It should answer your question. Is there anything else? Anything I should know about this new werewolf you've dropped off with us?”

“He's a boss werewolf, so be a little cautious around him. He's a fair bit tougher and more highly strung than your average fare. Also he's American subspecies, not Eurasian, so keep that in mind too. His entire pack is ISMI, he's not far off becoming a lead investigator himself so he's good, but he's fiery. Be polite and you'll find he's a good laugh.”

“Noted,” murmured Hal, wondering if that was why Doc was so subdued. “Alright, go on, we're fine here. If you need anything give me a call.”

Once Javier was gone, Hal was quick to take Doc off to see the egg, the dragons of course coming along as well.

Feffin padded ahead of them, eager to return to their hot tub room, and a quiet splash marked them returning to the water. Olander walked with them, eyeing Doc, not suspiciously as much as curiously, but waited until they were in the dragons' room and the door was closed before he commenced questions, immediately asking about werewolves and their abilities in this world. Doc answered patiently and gently, his tone back to the same calming one Hal knew. The man seemed more at ease now they were away from the other werewolf, but Hal didn't want to pry so instead he asked if they still wanted to feed the egg to Doc.

The werewolf looked a little uncertain but Feffin leaned out of the tub and spoke, “Yes. It is ideal conditions for a Sea dragon egg, warm, damp and safe. Normally only a dragon's assistants would be trusted with this but... we are desperate and Hal has vouched for you.

Doc glanced at Hal a bit shyly, “Has he now?”

Hal grinned, “Come on Doc, this is one of the only dragon eggs on earth, and it's been through a real tough time. They all have, It'd really mean something if you'd help out.”

Doc blushed slightly, and nodded, “Of course. I live to help others, and if this will help, I will gladly guard your egg.”

Feffin smiled and raised the egg out of the water. Hal was certain it looked healthier somehow, like there was a faint glow of life around it, the colours seemed more vivid but he couldn't put his finger on quite how.

Doc reached out and gently took the egg, cradling it in his arms, “So I just...” he pointed to his mouth.

Feffin nodded, “Upright is best if you can, but our eggs are very hardy, as long as it is warm and damp it will be content.”

As Doc raised the egg to start the process, Hal noticed Olander looking agitated, his pupils constricted and his breaths a little huffy as he watched the were handling his egg. Hal reached out to touch Doc's arm to make him pause, then knelt down beside Olander. “Is something wrong? Are you feeling ill again?”

Olander let out a little snort of surprise, as though he had been hyper focused on the egg, and Hal had snapped him out of it. He shook his head, glanced at Feffin, then shook his head a second time, “I... no. I am just... sore, and worried. We hid the egg for so long, handing it away is... hard for me.”

Doc gave a gentle smile and lowered the egg back into his arms as he sat down carefully on the floor in front of the dragon. “I understand, you worry about being separated from it,” he spoke in his gentle, calming tone, and Hal immediately saw the dragon's eyes return to a slightly less stressed state. There it was, there was Doc's natural ability to soothe people. That was precisely what the biologist had been hoping to bring to the surface.

“Yes,” murmured Olander, lowering his gaze.

“And you are angry that you think you are too tired and too hurt to care for it yourself?”

The dragon let out a little huff, the spines on his back prickling slightly, the talons on his feet flexing. “Yes.”

Doc reached out a large, gentle hand, and stroked at the creature's muzzle, “Well there is a very easy solution,” he said gently.

Olander eyed him questioningly.

“You may join the egg.”

The dragon let out a little snort of surprise, and sat a bit more upright, “I...”

“You are small enough, in your current state as long as you promise to take care with those horns. I can comfortably make room for both yourself and the egg,”

Olander, his crests raised in surprise, looked at Feffin, who gave him an overly broad, knowing smile, and nodded. “Go my love,” the cyan dragon said with a gentle chuckle. “Guard our egg, rest, I will watch things out here.”

Doc smiled as the dragon looked at him, gave a nervous swallow, then nodded. The werewolf gently held the egg out to Hal, who took it carefully, then he beckoned the dragon. “Come then, let us settle you first, and I shall send you the egg in a minute or two.”

The dragon shuffled forwards, looking a bit nervous still, but leaned his head forwards toward the werewolf, and closed his eyes.

Hal gently held the egg against his middle as he tried (unsuccessfully) not to watch Doc consuming the dragon. He felt his belly tighten a little bit around Deacon as saw the ruthless efficiency the werewolf demonstrated in swallowing down the smaller predator. Granted, Olander was not resisting, but it was still frightening to see how swiftly Doc was able to pack the dragon away, a look of focus on his face as the scaled tail slid slowly between his lips and out of sight. After a moment he cleared his throat, resting a hand gently on his middle as he observed, “Dragons are... sharper than most ISMI agents,”

Hal chuckled, “You made the offer, don't be surprised with the results.”

“No, no it's fine,” the werewolf gently patted his middle, “He's being careful I just... it's a new sensation.”

Hal smiled, offering the werewolf the egg, “Well, your job isn't done yet,”

Doc reached out and gently took the thing, nodding as he brought it to his mouth, opening wide and gently pushing it inside.

Hal grimaced as he saw the man's neck bulge and flex with the rounded shape, not sure whether the feeling in his mind was fascination, disgust, or envy... maybe all of them? It was a puzzling sensation for him, but he resolved to unpack that later.

Feffin let out a little musical trill and slid out of the tub to gently circle around Doc before coming to lay wrapped around him, their head resting gently against the werewolf's middle.

Doc gave Hal a helpless look, and Hal shrugged, smiling knowingly. “Well. I did know you were the man for the job,” he chuckled.

Doc relaxed slightly, stroking gently at Feffin's head, “Well. Clearly I am to be an incubator now. I am just glad to help... I was surprised you sent for me but... I think I understand now.”

Hal nodded, “I thought you might. Are you okay? You seemed... uncomfortable earlier.”

Doc diverted his gaze away from Hal's. “Being around a werewolf like that makes me uncomfortable, and American werewolves are... different. Not like me.”

“Why? Will you be alright?”

“It's a long story... don't worry yourself about it. I'd rather avoid him though, if it's alright with you?”

Hal nodded, “Of course, you focus yourself on taking care of Feffin and Olander, and if that means never going near him, then that's fine with me. It's not something the rest of us need to worry about is it?”

“No not at all. It's a werewolf thing. Not something to worry the rest of you.”

“Alright, if you're sure. I'd best go and check on them, make sure Sayer hasn't found a way to get himself eaten...”

“Do... be a little careful if you have Blaine out around him. He's a predator, a hunter.”

“He's an ISMI agent.”

“Yes, he is. And I sincerely hope that part of him is the one primarily in control. Just... promise you'll be careful okay?”

Hal gave a little half nod, making considerable note of the werewolf's concerns, but without showing it. “Shout if you need anything,” he said, and headed out. He paused however, at the top of the stairs, before turning and going back to his room to dig his tablet from his bag and pull up the ISMI database entry for the American werewolf species, wanting to remind himself fully how they differed from their Eurasian cousins.

A quick read made it clear that there were quite a few notable differences the ISMI had observed, in the case of the somewhat rarer species, increased aggression, highly territorial. Their forms were different too, they had a human form just like the Eurasian subspecies, but their feral form was different. It was larger and heavier. Not by a huge quantity, the differential was considered very similar, scale-wise, to the difference between a carpathian wolf and a timberwolf.

The main, most significant differnce, was that their 'real' werewolf form was not fully quadrupedal. It had longer, more dextrous forelimbs, while retaining the digitigrade back leg of the wolf, but a far more powerful version. This granted them bipedal or quadrupedal movement at great speed, and permitted them to retain their dextrous, human hands in this form as well, allowing far more delicate interaction with their surroundings. They were, quite literally, the hollywood werewolf, but better.

For a brief time, the US military had incorporated a few werewolves, using them as forward scouts and trackers for larger military forces in certain redacted parts of the world. The ISMI's records never clarified how that went or whether they had continued to do so. Apparently it got a bit cloak-and-dagger at a certain point, and the military contacts had become 'uncomfortable' with discussing the current status of werewolves in their ranks.

Out of curiosity, Hal quickly looked into the file of this Agent Lukan Kenway, trying to find out a little about the man with whom he would be working, but the file was locked. He was able to find a more general file about the Kenway 'pack' though, as all of them were members of the ISMI.

They were, as it turned out, a displaced werewolf pack without a territory who had opted instead to live and work with the ISMI. The pack consisted of seven (known) individuals, Lukan as the boss, his two sons and one daughter, Lukan's brother and his partner, and one much older, more mysterious werewolf whose name was only in the database as 'Pops' but was not known to be anyone's actual father, or even known as being the same species of werewolf as the others. They were noted as highly trusted and highly trustworthy, but likely to be suspicious of newcomers and slow to trust. This was a common trait in American werewolves, Hal knew that much, so he would have to be a little careful around this one at first.

“Hal?”

“Hm?”

“What's happening?”

“Oh, sorry Deacon... I forgot I hadn't put my camera on for you or anything,” Hal snapped out of his reading trance and gently patted at his friend. “I'm being a bad host, let me get that sorted for you.”

“Thanks. Do... do I need to be scared of this werewolf? Doc seemed... concerned.”

“Don't you worry,” said Hal, as he went to rummage in his bag for everything he needed to get Deacon fully equipped again. “I trust Javier implicitly, and the ISMI's ability to pick its agents. I don't think we have anything to fear from Lukan, he'll just take a little time to get his head around us. We're an odd lot for a werewolf to take in.”

“I suppose that's true. If you don't mind I'll stick here where it's safe until you've had time to get a proper reading on him.”

Hal chuckled, stroking lightly at the small man, feeling gentle little hands pressing back, “You can stay there as long as you want. But I am sure Doc is just being overly cautious in the interest of safety.”

“I believe you, I'm just sticking on the safe side for now.”

“Of course,” Hal finished clipping on his camera and getting Deacon all logged into it and able to see again, then went downstairs to see about getting to know their new team mate.

The atmosphere was a little tense in the living room when he arrived. Sayer was sitting bunched up on the sofa, reading through files about the Cabal on his tablet, and Kaplain was gathering up the coffee cups, while Lukan was still sitting silently, just watching them, observing. No doubt he was trying to get his head around the personalities around him, see how they operated together, figure out who did what. There was a slightly troubled look in his eyes that Hal spotted as he circled around the living room, getting a better look at the newcomer. He had removed his hat, revealing long, dark brown hair, braided at the back to keep it out of the way. He had a beard but it was short and well kept, and his striking, enormous stature made him a distinct, intimidating figure in the whitewashed room.

“So,” Hal spoke up, his voice calm and even as the eyes flicked to him. “Lukan.”

“Hal O'Dwyer,” greeted the werewolf with a silent nod.

“Please just Hal, I've had enough O'dwyering from the dragons to fill the rest of my life,” Hal came and quietly sat down on the chair nearest the werewolf. “So, Javier said we needed to get to know each other. If you're going to be on mission with us, I agree with him. So. What do I need to know?”

Lukan sat forwards slightly. “You're direct, I appreciate that. I have questions about your team also.”

Hal extended his hands, “Well feel free to ask away, we're all ISMI here.”

“The small one. Sayer. He's different isn't he?”

Hal smiled as he saw Neil going pink, “He is, he's different but we all are. He's got some pretty unusual abilities. He can do magic.”

Lukan chuckled lightly, then raised an eyebrow when he saw Hal was not also laughing, sitting forward slightly more. “Genuinely?”

Hal nodded. “Genuinely.”

“And that one?” he gestured to Kaplain, “He is different also, but not in the same way.”

Kaplain, seeing this, frowned a little. “I'm just another ISMI agent. Uninteresting. Human.”

Lukan gave him a long look, “You have something about you that says otherwise but I cannot put my finger on it... and you...” he looked at Hal, his pupils dilating slightly. “There's an entire story here that my nose cannot understand.”

Hal tensed ever so slightly as the werewolf moved in an instant from his chair, to be right in front of Hal, sniffing. Hal, remaining calm as ever, extended a hand to the great chest and gave it a gentle push, “Excuse me. My personal space. I don't like to share it.”

“But you...” the werewolf's face grew more troubled. “You have the breath of a maneater... and something else...”

Hal knew he had to play this carefully. A werewolf's nose would determine in a hot second that he was no regular human, so he would have to be careful to keep his secret covered here. He spoke calmly once more, “Agent Kenway, please. I will explain but not like this. I know you get a lot of your information from your nose but where I'm from we don't get this close so... if you please,” he pushed at the chest again, and the werewolf moved back this time, still looking puzzled.

“I apologise. I sometimes forget myself. Werewolves are social. We don't have as many hangups about personal space, as I am sure you are aware from knowing your... albino.”

Hal held up his hands, “I understand but I like my space. Not just anyone is allowed to get up into it.”

“Not unless they're small, apparently...” an amused, teasing little voice came with a playful little kick in his belly, and Hal's acute eyesight noticed the werewolf's gaze flick to the earpiece he was wearing. He had heard it.

“And... that is?” asked the werewolf, “I have not been introduced to another member of your team, though Javier alluded to there being a fourth. He didn't seem to know where he was though.”

Hal chuckled, leaning back a little, watching as the werewolf went to take his seat once more, relaxing slightly as he saw the werewolf settle in place. “That is indeed the fourth member of the team. My extra pair of eyes and ears.”

“I take it from those words that he is small, and perhaps the reason you have the scent of a maneater,” questioned the werewolf, his gaze travelling slowly over Hal. “Am I correct?”

Hal chuckled, giving a playful shrug, “Perhaps.” The werewolf looked a bit baffled about this teasing tone, thrown from having had Hal go from direct to cryptic, but it was all part of the biologist's plan to get a read on this newcomer. How would he handle this light, irreverent teasing?

After a moment of consideration, Lukan looked slightly more intrigued, leaning forwards a little again. “I'm correct aren't I?” his tail thudded slightly on the sofa in a flick of amusement, and he chuckled a slow laugh. “How unusual... most humans have a lot of hangups about such things,” he was visibly slightly more at ease now, “Will you tell me how this came to pass?”

Hal shrugged, “Do you have your ISMI tablet? I can give you the casefile.”

“I would be most intrigued,” replied the werewolf, drawing a tablet from his coat, the thing looking almost like a large phone in his huge hands. Hal noticed at that point that the man's fingernails were either painted or naturally black, and he made a note to find out whether that was a trait of the American werewolves or just a fashion choice. He gave the man the casefile number, then went to check in with Sayer and Kaplain while the werewolf was reading.

Kaplain was visibly a bit wary of the newcomer but busying himself with washing coffee cups, and Sayer was looking a little better now as Hal settled next to the young man. “You okay?”

Sayer nodded, “A bit tired but getting there.”

“Not too frightened of the werewolf?”

He shook his head, “No... he seems to be loosening up now you have him talking. I didn't like it while he was just sitting and staring at us.”

Hal nodded, “I'm sure he just needs to get to know us.”

Sayer glanced a bit nervously at Hal, “Are... you okay?”

“Hm? Why wouldn't I be?”

“Because... you were stabbed. Yesterday... and for a minute there... with Olander... we thought you'd...”

Hal held up a hand to stop the young man, and then gently squeezed his shoulder. “Yesterday was a hell of a day. I'm fine, I promise. A bit battered but not down.”

“You're sure?”

Hal nodded, “I'll be sure to get some rest today. Make sure I'm ready for mission tomorrow.”

“I just... worry that one day you're going to get really hurt Hal.”

Hal sighed a bit, “I've been really hurt a few times Neil. It's never stopped me yet. I have too much work left to do to die yet. I know I can't tell you not to worry because you will anyway, but try to remember that I'm the institute's good luck charm. I can't die. It'd be terrible for morale.”

Sayer gave a tense little laugh and nodded, and Hal elbowed him gently. “Why don't you go and see how Doc is doing? He's the expert at making people feel better, not me.”

“Okay,” the young man stood up, nodding, “That's a good idea, I'll go see how he's doing.”

As Sayer walked away, Hal noticed that Lukan was, once again, staring at him. “We need to work on that staring thing you do,” the biologist folded his arms, “It's very unnerving.”

“I study things. People. My eyes are my best tool for that.”

“That's how eyes tend to work. Did you read that report?”

“I did. I am most curious about this fourth team member. Can I meet him?”

“Not in person right now. Would a voice call satisfy you? I can lend you our spare earpiece.”

“I like to see people. Their faces. Their eyes. Lets me see who I am talking to.”

Hal was starting to think there was something more to this creature's staring eyes than he was letting on, but he hid his interest for now. “I don't think he's...”

“How about a video chat?”

“Huh?”

“I can video chat him from my tablet. It has a camera,”

Hal glanced at Lukan, “I suppose you heard that suggestion?”

“A video chat isn't ideal but... might be better than nothing if you're not willing to bring him out right now.” He chuckled, clapping his hands together, “Alright. I like it. I can say confidently I've never video called someone's stomach but this should be interesting.”

Hal let out a slightly bemused little sigh and shook his head, “Alright then. Let's get this over with.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

<< First || Previous || Masterlist || Next >>

Look out look out, my favourite story arc in the book is about! (to begin)

Also I apologise everything was like, a week late, I was up north, helping some friends move.

[llaberration]

So. Finally. FINALLY. After four entire reworks of Hal. After an entire redesign of Kaplain's moustache. After then putting that discarded moustache on Neil as a joke because I take character design process oh so seriously:-

Finally we can see our boys.

You're probably wondering where Deacon is too. Well he's coming next! He would have been too small for a mugshot like this XD

Also WTF Tumblr I had to use a different browser to upload this?! The hell is wrong with you?! Everything else managed just fine. Even DA. Now I need to go wash my hands because you made me use Edge. Ugh.

[llaberration]

I.S.M.I - Chapter Twenty Five

The group settled into a slightly awkward silence until Kaplain unbolted the door and gently ushered a nervous looking Neil inside.

Olander was on his feet at once at this, scales rustling in threat as he growled at the newcomers. Hal stood, gently putting a hand in front of the bristling dragon, “It's alright, these are my colleagues,” he explained, “Creek Kaplain, and Neil Sayer. They are friends, I promise, they mean you no harm and have been instrumental in the care you have so far received. Sayer is the one who will adjust your size.”

“Why is the other one here if this is the one who does the magic?” growled Olander, very much on guard as he glared at Kaplain.

Hal chuckled, “When I say this, know that I do not mean it offensively, but you are quite intimidating. Humans have relatively few predators your size in this world, and for the majority of time we have seen you, you have been feral and dangerous. Kaplain is here as well because humans feel safer in numbers. I assure you, they are both ones you can trust.”

Olander blinked as though he had not considered this fully, straightening up a little, “I... apologise for my conduct. Being here has made me more... combative than I once was.”

Hal smiled, “You are more than justified to be that way. Nobody is claiming you are wrong to be defensive of yourself and Feffin after what you have been through.” He gestured for the others to come over, standing up to gently pat Neil on the shoulder, “Olander seems to be feeling much better now. I think it would be easier for him to move around if he were the same size as Feffin. Can you do that?”

Sayer nodded, “I've had a nap so I can manage that... but he'll have to let me touch him...”

Hal smiled, steering the small man gently towards Olander, “Neil, this is Olander. Olander this is Neil.”

The dragon moved his head closer to the young man, sniffing lightly. “He smells unusual for a human,”

“He is unusual for a human,” agreed Hal, “Would you be willing to let him touch you in order to work his magic?”

The dragon nodded, extending his nose a little more.

Hal reached out a hand and gently stroked it to show that it was alright before gesturing for Sayer to do the same.

A bit nervously, the young man extended a hand and delicately placed it on the dragon's nose, taking a deep breath and starting to cast his magic.

Hal moved back a little bit beside Kaplain and glanced at the man. “Has the egg situation been reported?”

“Yes. The minister just about shit his tailored britches in terror when he heard that. Now on top of everything else we have stolen babies... or the equivalent thereof.”

“Have the other arrangements been made? Are they sending for Doc?”

“They have sent for him urgently. With the dragons smaller some accommodations are being sought for them, and as Feffin has requested, you will be sticking with them for now, so by association, so will we.”

“Good,” Hal nodded, “I hope somewhere suitable can be arranged...”

“I believe they are going down the no-expenses spared route currently given that the government is all over this. And he doesn't even know about the stolen babies yet.”

Hal nodded, “We should probably have the one remaining egg kept quiet for the time being. We don't want anyone getting ideas about studying it.”

“Agreed,” Kaplain nodded, “They seem to have taken to you well though. I believe bridges can be rebuilt if we find their eggs.”

“Dragons, even angry ones, are not without reason. If we show them we truly mean the best for them, they will forgive.”

Sayer finished his task, wobbling a bit on his feet as he removed his hand from the dragon's nose. Kaplain was there to help steady him, and Hal went to check on Olander, who was stretching himself and examining his new size. “I have not seen the world from this perspective since I was a hatchling!” he exclaimed, flapping his wings experimentally.

“It's certainly strange,” agreed Hal, “But you will be able to move much more freely through our buildings now, and food will go further. If at any stage you wish to return to your full size, you only need to ask Sayer here and he can do it, but you will need to let him rest a little between changes, it takes a lot of energy.”

Olander nodded, “As does all magic. I respect that. I wish now to leave this dreary place. May we?”

Hal nodded, “Apparently accommodations are being arranged that you should find more suitable. You will travel with my team and I, along with additional guards for safety. I assume whoever is arranging these accommodations will also be ensuring that there is a suitable place for your egg.”

Feffin stood, stretching herself, and looking expectant. “Lead the way then Hal O'dwyer,”

“Still just Hal,”

They were driven in the ISMI jeep to their 'accommodations' under heavy guard. Hal did not let the egg away from his person at all, not even allowing anyone close enough to touch. The journey was surprisingly long, and Hal was beginning to wonder exactly where they were being taken. Sayer had fallen asleep a half hour in, and was slumped against Hal's shoulder now, mumbling occasionally to himself. Hal smiled, thinking to himself how much more comfortable Neil could have been if he were still small, but he quickly corrected his line of thinking. This was no time for indulging in getting tipsy on life force, and he had to resist such things... he had work to do and this was a serious time.

When the overlarge vehicle finally slowed, and came in through a set of wrought iron gates into a high-walled, modern looking estate, Hal immediately raised an eyebrow. It was dark outside, but he could tell from the vegetation that they must be somewhere coastal.

The vehicle creaked to a reluctant stop and both dragons were on their feet in an instant, looking on-guard.

Hal opened the door and was struck by a warm, humid breeze. He inhaled curiously, sniffing the air, definitely coastal. He cradled the egg as he dropped himself down from the jeep and looked around. It was one of those borderline-mansions right on a cliff edge beside the ocean from what he could tell at a glance, though it was too dark to be certain, and as Javier trotted up to greet him, Hal leaned over to ask. “Is this what the American ISMI considers a safehouse? Because if so they are waaaaaaaaay over-funded.”

“No,” the man shook his head, “This is something of a special case so special arrangements have been made,”

Hal shrugged a bit, “I don't see why I would turn down such a hospitality,” he looked up into the truck. “Come on out, it's okay,”

Kaplain jumped down first, and between them they helped the two tired looking dragons down onto the ground before Creek had to go back and drag the half-asleep Sayer out with them.

Javier led the way to the house itself, nodding to two guards outside the front door as he let Hal in. “It's your average mansion. They've stocked it for your team, as well as the dragons. We're not entirely certain how long all of this is going to go on, but I think for now we're all working on the basis you're exhausted, and so are they,” he put the keys into Hal's hands along with a mobile phone. “Get some food and rest, then call me. I'll be around overseeing the guarding here.”

“Don't you have work to do at the cabal installation?”

Javier waved a hand, “it will wait. Our top priority now is the dragons. Please, get some sleep Hal... you look like shit.”

Hal chuckled, “Just keep that minister away from us for the time being okay? He's not the diplomat he thinks he is.”

“Oh don't you worry, he's going to be tied up in meetings about the egg revelation for at least a day so enjoy your peace for now.”

Hal smiled, bidding the man farewell and locking the door after him. He leaned back against it with a quiet sigh, resting a hand over his middle, feeling a gentle touch from Deacon, and giving him a light squeeze in response. “Okay,” he forced himself to stand fully, exhausted and sore as he was. “Let's see what the hospitality extends to.”

The house was far more than they were used to. The bedrooms were plush and had their own bathrooms, the kitchen was stocked, the windows looked out over the ocean and there was an indoor hot tub with a sea view. Hal whistled quietly at this, realising that some smart fellow had realised this would be ideal for the egg. He consulted with the dragons on temperature and set the tub to that, ensuring it was not too hot before carefully immersing the thing in the water.

After a little nervous consultation in their own tongues, the dragons joined the egg in the hot tub, disappearing under the water for a good while before Feffin surfaced enough to speak to Hal once more. “This is adequate for us for now... but we are both hungry... do you have more fish?”

Hal grinned, nodding. “They supplied plenty of fish and meat. I'll go get some. Will you be happy to rest there tonight? I'll be in the bedroom right next door, and you can come and wake me whenever you need something.”

“We will be fine here tonight,” the dragon chirped, already looking better for being in water once again. “I can tell you and your men are exhausted... but tomorrow we must begin a search for the eggs.”

Hal nodded, gently stroking the scaly blue muzzle. “I promise, tomorrow we'll begin our search. Tonight we're just about knackered.”

He went down to fetch a bucket of fish, relieved, but not surprised, to find Kaplain was preparing some food for them. He took the food back up to the dragons before returning to the ex-policeman and collapsing at the table beside Sayer, who was similarly exhausted looking.

“You alright?” Hal nudged the man with his shoulder.

Neil nodded, yawning, his face pale and drawn. “Just tired... I've put out a lot of magic today and had some very weird sleep patterns...”

Hal smiled, “You've had a heck of a day... feels like so long ago that we last settled in for sleep... if I recall correctly you were sharing with Deacon.”

Neil blinked a little owlishly but nodded, going a bit pink in the cheeks, “You're right... was it really only this morning?”

“This morning England time,” corrected Kaplain as he set a plate of scrambled eggs on toast down in front of the young man. “Get that down you,” he put the other in front of Hal. “And you. You shouldn't even be out of hospital with those injuries and you're waltzing around like you're fine.”

Hal grinned at the man, “Thanks dad.”

“After this I'm going to put you both to bed myself,” muttered the ex-policeman, setting a place for himself and sitting. “Eat.”

They obediently tucked into the food, almost as hungry as they were tired, and all eager to bury that feeling. Hal in particular wanted to push away the enthusiasm with which his mind was now reacting to the thought of a full stomach again. There was certainly no way Sayer had the energy to shrink himself tonight, and even if he could why would he want to? Hal was puzzled and a little unsettled by the instinct that made him salivate at the thought of that sharp citrusy life force. Fortunately, his mind was too tired to push back much on that, and after they cleared the food, he went to check on the dragons, smiling to see them fondly curled together in the water like a pair of sleeping cats, then headed to the bedroom next door, not even bothering to undress. He collapsed on the bed and kicked off his shoes before burrowing under the covers, curling around his belly and gently giving Deacon a squeeze. “You good?” he asked, a little slurred from exhaustion.

“All good!” replied Deacon, gently pressing at him with his feet, “get some rest Hal, don't worry about me.”

“Iain'tworried,” he mumbled, burying his face in the pillow. “S'allgoodIgotyou,” he stumbled out, hugging his stomach as he dropped off to sleep.

Hours later, after troubled dreams, Hal jerked awake with a gasp, his eyes darting about the room. Clean, ordered, unfamiliar... but safe. Bright sunlight was already burning through the wall sized windows, making him squint uncomfortably as he took in his surroundings. He was still wearing a now slightly sweatly ISMI issue shirt and trousers, a little tight around his belly but not overly so. He grunted to himself, resting a hand on his stomach as he fumbled for the phone he had dropped on the bed last night, finding it and checking the time. 10 in the morning. He had slept a decent few hours.

Pulling the covers off himself, he turned and slowly got out of the bed, wobbling on his feet a bit as he yawned and went to his bag, extracting a clean shirt and pair of jeans, dressing gently, feeling Deacon roll sleepily against him, and smiling as he tried not to wake his friend. He headed out and peered into the dragons' room, smiling as Feffin raised their head to smile at him.

“Hey, good morning,” he said softly, seeing Olander was dead asleep, his chin resting on the edge of the hot tub. “Are you alright?”

The dragon nodded, yawning and clambering out of the tub, shaking themself and coming to gently greet Hal by headbutting his hand. “Are you well?”

The biologist nodded, gently stroking the dragon's muzzle, “Better now that I have slept. Will you take a walk with me? I have a question.” He carefully reached up and removed the earpiece from his ear and pocketed it, so that he could speak freely without waking Blaine.

Feffin glanced back at Olander, then nodded, padding out of the door. “Yes, a walk sounds nice.”

Hal headed down the stairs, finding nobody awake yet, his team had been knocked about by the long day, they deserved a lie-in. He opened the front door and smiled as one of the guards greeted him, “Can we come out for a walk as long as we stay within the walls?” he asked.

“Help yourself,” the man gestured to what Hal was now able to see was a decently large garden.

Hal smiled, holding the door for Feffin, and then stepping out himself, starting to walk around the building on a footpath, his pace slow, gentle. “Is Olander feeling better now?”

“Yes, he is himself once more. A little sore but... unharmed. Well. We both have a road to recovery ahead of us, don't we?”

Hal nodded, “That is definitely true. You have seen injustice at the hands of my kind and for that I am so, so, sorry...”

Feffin held up a claw, “Not your kind, your species perhaps but these people were unlike you and those you have brought with you.”

Hal shrugged, “Close enough. Amends must be made, and we're doing what we can on that. But my question is about something else, if you'll humour me?”

“Of course, how can I help?”

Hal took a slow breath, looking out at the ocean as they rounded to the front of the house, which was built high on a cliff above a small, rocky bay. “What... will happen after we find your eggs? Will you be going back to your world? Do the other dragons know that they lost you? Can you contact them?”

Feffin slowed their pace a little, to look out alongside him at the ocean, then slowly shook their head. “I... do not think we can return home. Ridgar was sworn by the rest of the council to seal the rift that allowed the Khesceans to come through and invade your oceans. Whether he knew we were lost or not, he will have carried out that order. The rift was not of our making, and therefore, we cannot remake it. I believe that whether we are reunited with our eggs or not, we are the only dragons that remain in your world, and that will stay the case. If there were more of us, experienced grown dragons, we might be able to summon a means to return, but with only two... there is not enough magic between us.”

Hal nodded, a bitter taste at the back of his mouth, both for the lonely fate this condemned the dragons to, and because he had been wondering if he might have a chance to send contact to Iewan. “I see,” he managed to get his words out despite the lump in his throat. “I... am sorry to hear that. No wonder you were so concerned for Olander, he is... all you have now?”

Feffin nodded, “It is a difficult future we face. Your world knows nothing of magic, putting its faith in the weapons and tools of man instead.”

Hal shrugged, “It's not so bad. There's plenty of magic to be found if you scratch the surface, we're learning that on a daily basis.”

“Will we be welcomed by your people? Or will they seek to do to us what those bad men did?”

Hal shook his head, “On a grand scale it is too soon to say. What I can tell you is that the institute that I work for will all welcome you. They will treat you fairly and with the respect you deserve as intelligent beings. We will do everything we can to retrieve your eggs. I can't pretend to make promises I can't fulfil... but I can promise you that I will give it my all.”

“Thank you Hal.” Feffin sat and seemed to consider the ocean quietly for a time, the gentle breeze ruffling their colourful frills. Hal could almost have sworn that the dragon glowed in the morning sun. After a time, they raised their head and glanced at the biologist. “May I ask you a question about the past also?”

Hal blinked, then nodded, “Of course.”

“We-” They paused and considered their wording slightly, their tone catching with regret. “We never saw our kind depart from this world. Never saw Oridingeon a final time. If you were there for that... would you be willing to share with me your memory of that moment? It would mean a great deal for me to have seen their departure. It would help bring me closure.”

“I... don't understand. Do you want me to... describe it to you?”

“Not quite. If you will let me, I can see the memory directly,” the dragon held out a hand towards one of his, and Hal, a little puzzled, tilted his head and gently clasped the clawed foot. The dragon gripped his hand and spoke soft, musical words. “Just... take a breath and bring to your mind that moment, don't worry, I can't draw anything else out of your mind.”

Hal did as the dragon asked, closing his eyes and going back in his mind to the last moments of the blue dragons in their world.

A chilly wind ruffled his hair as Hal stood at the low stone wall not far from Cork Harbour, looking out into the inlet that led out into the Irish sea. It was a chilly autumn day and the trees to his sides and back were tinted with the flaming golds and oranges of the season.

He looked left and right along the road, seeing dozens of massive blue shapes lined up along the water's edge. Dragons, mixed in with milling figures of military men, scientists, some locals and their friends and family. Some dragons already in the water, swimming out, and the others were following them over the wall with graceful dives into the blue-green water. By far the largest dragon however, stood by his side.”

“Thank you Hal, for your understanding.” the rumbling voice of Ridgar came from high above him, and Hal raised his head to look up. His face felt tight and uncomfortable, the wind chilling the trails of tears down his cheeks. “We must go. The longer we delay, the greater chance of this re-occuring.”

“No... thank you, you didn't have to come here and help us, and yet you did. We can never repay that. Slán leat my friend, and please look after my brother. I will be lost without him, but you must never tell him that.”

The huge dragon gave a sombre nod, lowering his massive head and allowing Hal to stroke at his jawline. “May the winds of fortune lift you and those you serve Hal O'dwyer. By the grace of the gods, we should never meet again. For if we do, then something has gone tragically wrong. But should that happen, I would not be sad if our paths should once again walk together awhile.” He straightened up, and Hal closed his eyes as the huge creature leapt clear over him and into the water. The rest of the dragons followed him just as the sun began to lower in the sky, leaving a road full of lost souls looking out over the grey water, not a one of whom knew what they were supposed to do now.

The memory faded out and Hal gasped, shocked to find himself back in the warm air of the American coast. He released the dragon's hand and wiped his eyes, surprised to find here in reality, he had not been crying, but his cheeks felt as though the tears had brushed them.

“Thank you Hal, that means a great deal to me.”

“Glad... to help,” stammered Hal, running a hand through his hair and putting an arm around his middle, finding comfort in the sleeping weight there.

“It is a bitter memory for you despite the victory it holds. May I ask why?”

“The... one I was asking Ridgar to look after at the end. Was my brother. They had to take him with them... back to your world, because he was affected by the seahorrors. He... He cannot return to us, just as you cannot return to them.”

Feffin ruffled the frills on their neck and leaned forwards to gently press their head against Hal's chest, and he was surprised to hear a strange resonating tone coming from the creature, not a purr, but almost like a soothing harmonic note. “Ridgar is a good elder. One of the finest of our kind ever to live. He will be taking care of your brother. I promise. Our world contains many wonders, and I am sure he will have a good life.”

Hal choked a little on his breath and gently put his arms around the creature, drawing them close and squeezing them in a firm embrace, still hearing the strange, soothing tone, and finding it calmed him. “what... is that?” he asked after a moment.

“My heart is singing,” the dragon replied softly. “Because to have this memory gladdens it, despite the grief it carries. To have seen Ridgar once more, and seen the end of our mission here... gives me closure on something I have long wondered about. Thank you.”

“Maybe someday, if you'd like, I can take you both to visit that place,” he offered gently.

“I would like that very, very much,”

“Feffin?” The call was somewhat distant, and Hal released the dragon as they both looked around.

“Ah, Olander has awoken,” Feffin shook themselves and stretched, “Come, we should hurry before he becomes concerned.”

Hal nodded, standing up to follow the dragon back to the front door. He let Feffin inside and watched them pad off to find Olander before going into the kitchen to make himself a coffee as he began to ponder the egg conundrum.

As he settled down with a mug, he sent off several messages, one to Javier asking for any updates on their investigation into the eggs, then one to Earl asking how things were going back home with their shared mystery. Then he took the time to call Director Brown to make sure his old friend was entirely up to date on the situation. The man questioned his methods slightly, as usual, but once Hal laid them out and explained fully, his reasoning was accepted, and he was permitted to return to his coffee without further interruption until the rest of the team began to wake up.

Kaplain was the first to join him, looking refreshed, and the first words out of the man's mouth when he saw Hal sipping coffee at the table were, “So... dragons huh.”

“Eyup,” Hal smiled as he replied.

“I guess we didn't have time to think on it a lot yesterday but... wow. Even though you'd said it I never believed it believed it. What I mean is... I believed you but... somehow never took to heart that it could, or would, be true.” He frowned, “Does that... make any sense?”

Hal chuckled, nodding. “It does. A lot actually. There's a difference between knowing something is real, and actually meeting it. Moose. I find, are a good example of that.”

“Moose?”

“Yeah.”

“We're not doing disturbing animal facts again are we?”

“No no. It's just that, everyone knows moose are real. They are accepted to exist. And people know that Moose are big, right? Like really big. But you never know how BIG a moose really is until you meet one. They are SO big. And even though you know that, when you meet one, it will still shock you how BIG they are. This is like that.”

“Huh... you know I hadn't thought about it that way but I suppose this really is the same sort of feeling.”

“The moose analogy has served me well over these years,” Hal chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Other than that, you good?”

Kaplain nodded. “Wondering what happens now though?”

“Now, we wait. We wait for Doc to show up, and we wait for Javier to come our way with some leads on the eggs. I'm not going to lie to you, if they're in the hands of the cabal, things could get quite ugly quite fast. Now that they have lost the dragons, they will know those are the only eggs they will ever have. They are not going to let these go easily. And things are different out here... their cryptids are more dangerous but so are their people.”

“How so?”

“People in England can't walk into a Tescos and buy a Gatling gun with their bread rolls.”

“Ah.”

“The cabal isn't like the problem groups we deal with in the UK. The Cabal is more tactically trained, far more armed, and far more ready to do extremely violent things. The American ISMI operate differently on that basis. They're more prepared for situations like that. When Javier shows up, I expect he will have been instructed to give you guys some basic training to that effect.”

“Great... as if worrying about monsters wasn't enough.”

Hal chuckled, shrugging. “That's the plot twist. People were the real monsters all along.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

<< First || Previous || Masterlist || Next >>

Hopefully coming soon; an actual drawing of our main bois! (Long overdue I know, but it should be soon! I just couldn't get Hal to look quite right)

Also I might be working on a seasonal ISMI horror for you lovelies next month.

[llaberration]

I.S.M.I - Chapter Twenty Four

Hal sucked in sharp breaths, keeping himself as calm as he could as his entire body began to shake from pain. He activated his oxygen, needing to stay conscious just a little longer because he knew the worst was over. For the dragon anyway. For him, not so much. It was agony as he forced himself to wait for the creature to calm fully, every shifting of muscle causing a new spasm of unbearable pain.

Finally... things seemed to settle, and Hal introverted his mind, reaching for his healing powers greedily, grabbing hold of them and using them to repair his spine, un-herniating a lumbar disc and easing the strain on his nerves that it had caused, as well as pushing a rib back into place. He did not touch on the damages to his hand and arm, sensing no break and knowing people would ask if he came through this too unscathed. Instead he squeezed his hand firmly shut, trying to elevate it as much as possible, but he knew the cut was extremely deep, possibly to the bone. Stopping it bleeding was unlikely. He used the magic to probe for other damage, shocked to discover his eardrums had been ruptured in the shrieking... with the pain in his back he had barely noticed. Coughing a little, he spared the time to fix that as well.

He continued to lie for a little while after that, heaving in deep breaths, aware only of the all-dominating thuds of the dragon's heartbeat and the whooshing of the massive lungs. He gave them time to both settle a little before he noticed the strained voice in his ear demanding his attention.

“Hal?! Hal I swear to god if you're dead I'll...” it was Deacon. Possibly trying to come up with a way that he could threaten a potential corpse.

“Kill me?”

“Oh you bastard. You absolute shit idiot. Why didn't you answer me?!”

“Wouldn't it be a bit redundant to kill someone who was dead?”

“I would find a way. Just for you.” There was a harsh, slightly relieved breath over the line, “Are you okay?”

“I'm a bit cut up and battered... but I think I'll live.”

“What happened?! He just suddenly went wild...”

“I found the problem. That guy he ate, apparently had a knife on him. A nice big combat knife. Given the nature of the Cabal our lad here is probably lucky that it wasn't a claymore or some shit like that. It was lodged in his guts... it's out now but he's going to need some antibiotics to help clear any infection.”

“And you? You cried out...”

“I had to grab the blade with my hands to stop it cutting any deeper... when he tensed up it cut into me. I'm okay though. Perforated but alive,” Hal lied, his back still tingling a little bit. “How's the big guy.”

“He's obviously still in a lot of pain,”

“I figured he would be. I'm going to check there's nothing else, why don't you get the others to update Feffin on the situation and see if they can offer any insight as to whether that was the only problem.”

“On it,” confirmed Deacon.

Hal got his little scanner and started searching about for anything else of significant resistance... finding scattered little dots of resistance, presumably the previous victim's other belongings, but nothing too large and nothing that looked stuck. “Think that's a boot...” he muttered to himself., turning the scanner in his hands. But once again, the object did not appear to be surrounded by swollen or angry flesh, so he was not worried. He did need to take a look at the perforation the knife had left though, the sphincter definitely didn't want any more abuse but... if there was a hole in the intestines it would need looking at. He already knew dragon guts were very tough based on what he'd seen but... he needed to be sure. Getting out a little endoscope the medic had provided him with and connecting it to his tiny screen, he changed position and began to push the probe down into the intestines for a peek. The fisheye lens captured all, and he was able to use fisheye unwrap on the screen to look this way and that, getting a good view at all of the walls until he found the area he was searching for.

On one side, the flesh was angry and swollen from the blunt end pushing into it, and opposite, was a furious purple whelting. There was no blood though... that was a good sign. He pushed the camera into the area, hunting for a hole but it looked like the guts had formed a protective layer of scarring and thickening to ensure that did not happen. Hal sighed, thanking the tough design of dragons, and began to slide his arm back in beside the camera. The beast shifted uncomfortably at this, groaning, and Hal mentally apologised to his victim for this new pain as he awkwardly explored and kept an eye on the camera until he saw his hand. Then he used delicate fingers to check the area more thoroughly. No hole. Perfect. At least none he could see or feel. Even if there was something tiny, he strongly suspected dragon anatomy was touch enough to deal with it now that he had removed the cause of the problem.

He withdrew his hand, got a big, thick scoop of the adhesive healing agent and went back in with it, smearing it and stuffing it into the injured area, spreading it carefully and thickly. It wouldn't stick long term or block anything, it would merely stay in place long enough for the good antiseptic and anti-inflammatory to kick in and do their work.

“Hal?”

“Hm?” Hal grunted, still focused on his work.

“Feffin seems to think he is sounding and looking a little better already,”

“Good... I'm just doing a bit of investigation and cleanup,” Hal slowly withdrew his hand but kept the endoscope in place to check for any blood seeping or bubbling where it shouldn't be. “I think the worst part is done. I have the knife, the rest will just be a process of healing.”

“Well good. We need to get you out so we can deal with your wounds...”

“I know, but I need to observe a little longer,” Hal replied, “I have to make sure his intestines haven't been perforated,”

“But your hand sounds bad... we need to...”

“I know Deacon, it's okay, just five minutes, I promise. Otherwise I'm just going to have to go through this all over again.”

“Okay, if you're sure,”

Hal sighed, and settled down to quietly observe the wounded area a little longer. There was no sign of blood coming in, and no bubbles where there shouldn't be any, the muscles already seemed to be working fairly naturally once more, and trying to return to normal position. The dragon had been quite lucky really. If the owner of that knife had used it more skilfully, he could have done some far more serious damage.

Hal withdrew the scope, satisfied, and packed it away carefully. Then he took another scoop of the adhesive antiseptic and carefully applied it to the damaged area of the lower sphincter before awkwardly turning himself, glad to find his back no longer hurt as he moved to position himself facing forwards again. He spent a few minutes carefully binding the knife up in his shirt to try and protect both himself and the dragon from its blade... but he wasn't really equipped to do so properly. It was something they probably should have considered. “We are going to have a serious talk about all this,” he said, loudly, aimed at the dragon, “When you are feeling better.”

Hal let himself rest for a couple of minutes, laying his head on the soft flesh until his earpiece spoke up again. “Hal? It's been five minutes,”

“I know, I'm ready, but the others need to be ready too. Bringing me out is probably going to hurt him. He might go wild again. Not sure what he'll do but they need to be aware. I might need their help getting out of there.”

“They're ready,”

“Good, alright then, here we go,” Hal sighed as he opened the bottle of nauseant that the medic had kindly provided him, carefully pouring it out and pocketing the bottle as he waited. The substance did not take long to affect the suffering dragon's already confused system, and Hal tried to relax himself without losing his grip on the knife. The muscles tensed and he closed his eyes as everything pinched down, aggressively shoving him upwards and outwards. The investigator grimaced as he was pushed towards freedom, feeling the knife's blade pinched against him by the powerful muscles. He turned it a little, to ensure that if anyone got sliced it would be him rather than the dragon's throat.

Mercifully shortly, he saw a glimmer of outside light, and moments thereafter, found himself deposited on the hard concrete floor of the space with an uncomfortable thud. He took a second to recover his senses, aware that his hand hurt like hell, his body felt like it had been beaten and there was a new, sharp stinging in his side. The knife. He'd probably landed on it. Of course.

“Hal!” a heavy pair of hands grasped him and rolled him over, making the biologist aware, as he looked up, that the screen of his facemask had been broken when he hit the concrete. It hadn't shattered fortunately, but a web of white blocked his view.

“I suppose a mattress to land on would have been too much to ask?”

“Oh gods Hal... You're bleeding...” he realised now it was Kaplain's voice.

“I know,” he waved his diced hand.

“No, the knife got you on the way out as well,”

Hal grimaced as he felt a gentle touch against the new stinging, and he shifted to look at himself through the unbroken side of the mask. He had been right, he had a nasty, but not profoundly dangerous, slice in his abdomen. “Great... another scar to add to the library.”

“We need to get you to a medic... can you walk?”

“Not sure, get this bloody thing off me,” Hal clawed at his facemask with his good hand, and Kaplain quickly unclipped it, pulling it free, letting the investigator get a good gasp of the cooler, though still pretty unpleasant, air. “Great... now help me onto my feet and we'll find out if I can walk.”

With the ex-policeman's help, Hal slowly found his feet, and was able to balance on them, as long as Kaplain provided a supporting arm and shoulder.

They began to limp towards the door like this, the other guards gathering around to accompany them. As they reached the door Hal looked back towards the dragon to see he had withdrawn to the opposite wall, but his face looked a little different now. The eyes were less wild, and his head was extended towards them in a slightly more curious manner than the threatening, aggressive one of before. Good sign. He'd be back to himself in no time.

Hal was half-dragged like this all the way to the ISMI's makeshift medical room, where Kaplain lifted him, bridal style, up onto one of the gurneys, and a harried medic began to stitch him up. Hal's head was a little foggy from the blood loss, so he lay quiet, looking up at the cold white of the ceiling, not himself at all. Shortly after arriving, he felt a pinch of something in his arm and his consciousness dropped altogether.

When he awoke, it was to a somewhat unwelcome sight of bright lights overhead and a severe looking Minister, arms folded and looming at the end of the bed. Hal had taken care to only crack an eye open slightly to take in his surroundings before 'waking up' so he was able to do so without immediate interruption.

Kaplain was sitting beside him on a crate, checking the news on his tablet. Sayer was curled up on another gurney, either napping or sleeping properly depending on what time it. Deacon on the other hand was standing on the end of the bed, all eight inches of him, arms folded, glaring up at the minister like an angry little guard dog, defiant in posture and with a face that said 'fight me bitch.'

Hal was sure he could hear someone breathing behind him as well, but he was less able to tell who that was without moving, so he opened his eyes proper, and sat up, “Well... quite the sombre gathering we have here, I'm not dead am I?”

Kaplain almost dropped his tablet in surprise, turning to him. “No, you're not dead,” he chuckled, “You've only been out for an hour or so.”

“Good thing too, you still have work to do Mr O'dwyer, so get yourself up will you?” the minister's voice was more concerned than angry.

Hal grunted, checking himself over briefly. Still had all of his limbs, one of his hands was thoroughly bandaged up, and he had a thick bandage covering the gash in his belly. “They sewed me up then?”

“Sewed is the word,” Deacon abandoned his guard dog position and walked up the bed to his side, where he stood looking expectant, “You have quite a few stitches and a lot of bruising but apparently you'll live.”

Hal gently scooped the small man up, holding him gently against his chest, “Well, someone better get me a clean shirt then because I have a patient to see to.” He heard a sound to his left and turned, surprised to see Feffin was already there, smaller, they were about the size of a large dog, but still commanded all of the awe and elegance one of their kind should be afforded.

“Indeed, they have not yet let me see him,” the dragon moaned, their musical voice lighter than before. “But he has been heard to speak, which is a sign he has returned to us,”

“Sayer... adjust your size?” asked Hal, raising an eyebrow.

Feffin nodded, “We agreed it might make it easier for me to move around the base, which I have been allowed to do freely,”

“Good, I did tell them to just treat you like one of the team. Have you eaten anything?”

The dragon shook their head, “I have yet to develop that kind of trust in your people,”

Hal nodded, “I understand,” he looked at Kaplain, “Can you arrange some food for them? Probably something lighter like chicken or fish.”

Kaplain nodded and stood, and Hal blinked as the minister dropped a fresh shirt and trousers onto the bed, “Here, make yourself presentable,” he pointed to the bathroom. “Then you have more work to do.”

Hal watched the man stomp out of the medical room, pulling a face at his back.

“Your friend is very angry,” observed Feffin.

“He's not my friend, he's a prancing pouter pigeon of a man who has never done a day's work in his life, like most politicians.” Hal turned himself and headed for the bathroom, his body sore but working fine. He knew that he could heal his wounds in an instant but that would arouse a lot of very justified suspicion. Best let them heal normally.

At the sink he put Deacon down, stripped off the damaged wetsuit, washed his face, hand-combed his hair and pulled on the ISMI issue plain grey t-shirt and tracksuit trousers, noticing as he did so that Feffin moved to keep an eye on him wherever he went. At that moment she was at the door, peering at him through the gap he had left.

“Are you alright? I don't think you should be up yet,” Blaine looked worried from his position on the sink, distracting Hal.

“I'll be fine,” Hal grinned at him. “Though I will need a good night of sleep tonight. We still have work to do.”

The small man looked a bit concerned but nodded in acceptance of the reply, “What about me? Are you going to send me back to the control room?”

“Do you... want to go back there?”

“No.”

“Then no. You did wonderfully back there, I'm so proud of you for being out around those strangers, and in control of the situation like that.”

Deacon looked pleased. “What can I say? I'm starting to realise that being small doesn't change who I am. And the fact I have a job to do.”

Hal smiled warmly, gently gripping the small man and lifting him up. “But you can't stay around out here either. I do not worry about Feffin but Olander is a bit of an unknown still. Not to mention I haven't had a decent meal since we left England,” he grinned at his friend, “perhaps you'd like to serve yourself as a replacement?”

“Fine,” Blaine gave a little laugh, “I'll be glad to be hidden. I get stared at a lot here. I've been managing but... being out of sight will let me rest.” The man looked genuinely insecure as he admitted this, and Hal gently squeezed his friend, holding him up level with his eyes.

“They just don't know what to make of you. You're unusual in a way they haven't seen before, think of it as a battlescar, not a condition.”

Blaine nodded, “I know. It's just a lot. I'm coping better but... it's a process.”

“Well take some time to chill,” Hal gave his friend a grin, “We'll go get some real American coffee afterwards. Okay?”

Deacon managed a small but genuine smile, nodding. “Okay.”

Hal gently opened his mouth, nudging the door mostly shut with his foot to give them a little privacy as Deacon began to slide his arms into the biologist's mouth.

Hal welcomed the familiar, spicy tingle, a little shiver running through him as he enjoyed it. He was tired and sore but as hungry as he was... a taste of that familiar life energy made him feel a lot better. He opened wider, swallowing and using his hands to gently lever the small body into his mouth. Blaine didn't resist, going limp as a wet noodle as Hal worked to get him hidden away. The investigator could tell the small man was tired and had had a rough time of it out on his own, but it was good for him to show he could face the world head-on like this, even if they kept it to short periods as he adjusted.

Swallowing gently, Hal leaned back against the wall, indulging in a moment of quiet peace for himself as he enjoyed the warm, tingling sensation rolling down inside him. He let out a quiet breath as the familiar, welcome weight dropped inside, filling his complaining belly and making him feel a little rush of heat from that tasty life energy. He rested his hands quietly on his middle for a moment, until he heard the door creak, and looked up to see Feffin peeping in at him again. “Oh, sorry,” he straightened up, “I just needed a moment.”

The dragon's soft eyes made no judgement of him, but it was clear they had seen and heard enough to know what had happened. They gave him a sly little smile, “So our worlds have some similarities after all,” the dragon moved forwards a little. “But you are not a werewolf... or any of the alternative sub-breeds... so how and why do you consume your friends?”

Hal, a bit embarrassed about this, put an arm gently around himself, “Well... Deacon is special.”

“He's very small... is he fae?”

Hal smiled, shaking his head, “No, he's a human. But that is his size for now. Due to... circumstances.”

The dragon nodded and gave a gentle smile, “I understand. I do not mean to hurry you, but I am anxious to see Olander. They showed me the knife you removed from him... I am sorry you were hurt in the process.”

Hal smiled, waving a hand dismissively, “I assure you, I'll live. It needed to be done.” He began to head his way out of the room, holding the door open for the dragon. “Come then, let us go and see if he has come to his senses.”

The two of them began to walk down the corridor, the dragon padding comfortably alongside Hal, their wings folded neatly to their back, moving gracefully despite this new size. This new posture was a positive sign as well, on the whole the creature seemed more upbeat, though still thin and tired. “They sent word that he has improved, and been heard speaking, but only in our tongue, so they do not know what was said.”

Hal nodded, “It is a good sign,”

As they reached the doors to the enclosure, Kaplain caught up with them, holding a bucket of fish. Hal noted that Feffin's eyes dilated as they got a whiff of the meat. He smiled, taking a fish and holding it out towards the dragon, “You can have some, it's for both of you.”

Feffin was visibly tempted, but shook their head, “I cannot eat while my other suffers. We must see him first.”

Hal nodded, returning the fish to the bucket and taking it. “I'm going in,”

The guards formed up around Hal but he raised his hands, “No no, I'm going in alone, just with Feffin,”

Kaplain frowned, grabbing his shoulder, “Hal... what if he's still...”

“I have a good sense for animals Creek, remember this is what I did first, I think he won't hurt me this time.”

“Alright but... we're going to be prepared to go in if things go wrong.”

Hal smiled and nodded at the man, patting him on the arm with his heavily bandaged hand. “Don't worry, it's going to be okay.” He unbolted the door and opened it for Feffin to go in first, which the small dragon did, without fear, then he followed, closing the door after him and hearing the bolt slide home.

On the other side of the enclosure, beneath the limited concrete shelter, he could hear an angry hissing. It sounded like someone deflating a bouncy castle.

Feffin, their neck frills up on end at the sound, bounded forwards, putting their wings up so that Olander could see they were a dragon not a dog, and Hal wondered idly if they shouldn't have put the dragon back to full size first. He was reassured when the hissing stopped, and watched as Feffin's body dropped a little, and they began to move forwards a few steps, starting to speak, but in the dragon's own gutteral tongue.

Hal did not move yet, wanting to see how Olander reacted to his better half.

A pair of angry eyes, glowing faintly in the dimness, moved slowly forwards, and he saw the tip of a dark scaled nose slip into the light, and a single word in their gutteral tongue slipped out.

Feffin let out a happy little chirping noise, then the eyes shifted to fix on Hal, and there was a flash of scales as the creature moved suddenly and with incredible speed.

Hal was well aware of the movement, and braced in plenty of time to react, but did not... he couldn't demonstrate his abilities with so many watching him, and he sensed this was not a direct attack.

Instead the huge creature had shot forwards to place himself low over Feffin, wings spread out over the smaller dragon, hissing at Hal, mouth wide and rows of needle sharp teeth glittering on display.

Hal heard the door lock begin to slide, and held up a hand towards it, immediately bringing a halt to the sound. The last thing they needed was the guards intervening now. “Hello,” he said gently, facing down the furious looking beast. “I don't know if you remember me but we have met,”

Feffin, apparently having been bowled over by the swift action of their mate, appeared from beneath him, nipping at his legs, “Olander stop! This is Oridingeon's chosen! This is the one they called Hal O'dwyer.”

The larger dragon's eyes unslitted themselves, the pupils rounding as he looked down at Feffin. “This is he?”

“Yes! He's the one that dug the knife out of your belly that was poisoning your mind!”

Olander seemed to consider this, then looked at Hal, his lips still pulled back a bit, “Why have you come here man? Did they bring you because their plaything was sick?!”

“No, you have missed a lot,” Hal spoke gently, “The men who held you here are gone. Driven out by my people. They called me from across the ocean to come and help you,”

Olander let out a growling rumble, looking Hal up and down. “How do we know he is really Hal O'dwyer?”

“He is!” insisted the smaller dragon. “I have checked! He has the scent, and he remembers Orindigeon,” Feffin offered.

“I could show you my driver's license,” offered Hal with a smile, “But you don't know what that is, so I doubt it would help. Or... I could show you the wounds I received digging a large knife out of your intestines for no more reason than because you needed my help.”

Olander seemed to consider this, then Feffin stepped forwards, between them once again. “He is good. Look, he is like those from our world,” the dragon came to Hal and pushed a gentle nose against his belly, “Don't think of him as a man. He's like our weres... look what he is willing to do to help his afflicted friend.”

The huge sea dragon moved forwards, pushing his nose against Hal's middle a bit more roughly than the biologist would have liked and inhaling quietly, as if taking him in entirely, sensing his entire being.

Hal was extremely uneasy about this, but permitted it for these special circumstances... and for some reason it seemed to work. Olander seemed satisfied, and laid himself down on the concrete floor, looking more thin and exhausted than before as his 'angry' demeanour faded. “Have you come to help us then Hal O'dwyer?” he looked up at Hal, and the man saw such pain in his eyes.

“I have,” said Hal, “Just Hal. Call me Hal. I have come to help.” He sat himself down on the ground and brought the bucket forwards, carefully reaching into it and picking out a fish, “But first, you look like you need a snack.”

The dragon's eyes dilated just like Feffin's had, and the huge head moved forwards to check the fish over before taking it from Hal in a delicate motion. Hal smiled, reached for another fish and offered it to Feffin.

They came forwards, more relaxed at last, and lay down beside him to accept his offering, swallowing it whole while Olander elected to lay the fish between his feet and examine it carefully with sniffs and nips before he seemed satisfied and ate it.

Hal smiled, offering him another, and one more for Feffin, letting the larger dragon take his time to examine, assess and then consume the fish. Like this, he went down the entire bucket, with Olander growing slowly more trusting over time.

Once all the fish was cleared, the larger dragon looked once more to Hal, clearing his throat. “How will you help us?”

“Well. That depends what you need. Feffin has only been focused on healing you, and has said very little about what you want.”

“Two things,” said Olander, immediately. “We want better than this... prison...” he gestured around their surroundings, “And we want our eggs back.”

Hal froze up, his belly dropping so hard that he was sure it must have given Deacon vertigo. “Eggs?”

“They took them,” Feffin was suddenly forlorn. “All but one that we hid...”

“That's... the first I am hearing of this...” Hal gulped. The Cabal had dragon eggs...

“We... would not tell anyone but you,” Feffin sounded apologetic.

“Your first request is a given,” Hal waved a hand, “You were only kept here until you were once more yourself. But the eggs...” He looked up at the control room. “We have more work to do it seems.”

“Can you find them?” asked Feffin.

“I... do not know,” Hal spoke honestly, “But if they can be found, we will do it.”

“Why is my Feffin small?” asked Olander suddenly.

“Oh... we did that so they could move more freely. I have a friend who is able to do such things,”

“They can perform powerful magic for a human...” grunted the dragon, looking surprised.

Hal grinned, nodding. “He really can. You said you hid one egg? Is it safe? Where is it.”

Olander rumbled a little, “Is this place safe now? The new people here... are they good?”

Hal nodded, “They are.”

Olander stood, padding to the concrete shelter, scratching around at the back of it. There was a scraping rumble as he lifted an entire hunk of concrete from the ground, and gently drew something from the hole beneath it.

Hal felt his belly do another acrobatic movement as the beautiful egg was carried into view. It was blue but swirled with mother of pearl and white opal patterns, glowing with energy. “Is it okay? It will be cold...”

“Sea dragon eggs can withstand the cold. A warm place would have been much better but... we had to hide it. It is unharmed.” Feffin assured him as Olander set the item gently down before Hal, “Can you warm it? We are both so tired that we cannot maintain a body temperature above ambient...”

Hal blinked, surprised at being given such a trusting instruction, but nonetheless he reached out and brought the thing to his lap, holding it against himself. “We shall have to get an incubator...” he frowned, “In what conditions do you normally keep eggs?”

“Normally we keep them in our crops, and heat water magically around them to keep them wet and warm... but... neither of us have the strength in us for that. Could we trouble you for somewhere warm and wet... do you have a werewolf you trust among your number... do you have werewolves here at all? They are ideal incubators as you say.”

Hal frowned, “We do... but the only one I know and trust is far from here right now,” he considered for a moment, then looked towards the control booth. “Send for him. Send for Doc, and in the meantime consider where we might find a wet, warm place that is safe,” he demanded. Then he looked back to the dragons, “Are you sure it will be okay having been dry and cold like this?”

Feffin nodded, “Dragon eggs are not as fragile as bird eggs. Unideal conditions merely pause growth as long as the egg is not damaged. It will be fine.”

Hal sighed, shaking his head as he tucked the thing under his shirt and held it there to try and warm it. It was about the size of a rugby ball, but heavy and solid. “I think you had better catch me up on what has happened over these last years.”

Feffin glanced at Olander, then slowly lay back down beside Hal, “I... think it will not be as long a story as you think,” they said gently. “We came here from our world with the others, and assisted Ridgar in clearing out the Khesceans. During the final cleanup we became a little lost, ended up off the coast of America when we should have been somewhere very different. We came onto land to rest and were planning on flying to our final destination as it was harder to get lost that way than swimming. While we were resting... those men came. They had strange sticks and nets that made us numb and stung like fire... we tried to fight them off but there were many of them, and they had weapons we did not understand. They took us, and brought us here. Some time later, the eggs arrived. We had been expecting them when we left our world but had not known until we were already here. We planned to hide them... dug the hole... but could only hide one before the men returned and took the others. Three of them.”

“How... long do dragon eggs take to hatch?” asked Hal.

“In ideal conditions about twelve months... but I doubt they have been kept in ideal conditions. If the conditions are un-ideal it could be as much as five years... if the conditions are very bad... the eggs go into stasis completely and will not hatch until conditions improve.”

Hal exhaled softly, “Let us hope for the latter if your living conditions are anything to go by.”

Olander growled, a deep, rumbling sound that shuddered the ground on which they sat. “They were very bad to us. Tested many unpleasant things on us, did not feed us enough, hurt us when we would not co-operate. We are in need of food... clean water... warmth and rest...”

Hal grimaced, nodding. “I can see that. Do not worry, we will take you somewhere these conditions are met and keep you safe... we only held you here, as I said, until we were certain you were not a danger to yourself or Feffin.”

“I understand,” said Olander. “Thank you, for digging that knife from my belly. It drove me to dark places.”

“Pain will do that,” Hal nodded sagely. “I was glad to help. You helped save my world and it seems it has betrayed you very badly for your efforts. This was the least I could do. Now... we must try to make things at least somewhat right. My colleagues are looking for somewhere better for you to be placed temporarily while a permanent solution is found, would you be willing to let one of them reduce your size the way Feffin has?”

Olander rumbled a bit uncomfortably at this thought, his scales rustling a bit as he bristled them. “Do you speak for the reliability of the individual who would do this?”

Hal nodded, “I do. He has become one of my most trusted circle lately, and those are few.”

The dragon seemed a little soothed by this assurance, and nodded slowly. “Then I agree... but no smaller than Feffin.”

“A very reasonable boundary,” agreed Hal, nodding over towards the door and speaking, “Kaplain can you go and fetch Sayer for me?”

“On it,” came the reply from his headset.

Hal shifted the egg a bit against his middle, turning it to try and warm the other side, blinking as Feffin came to gently nose at the shape through his shirt. Even after all the harm people had done to them and Olander, the dragon still seemed so tactile and unafraid of Hal. He found that so strange, but flattering. “There is obviously nothing I can do to apologise enough for what has happened,” he shook his head, “We did not know you were here or we would have come sooner.”

“It is not forgiven yet,” said Olander, “But what you have done thus far is a step in the right direction.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

<< First || Previous || Masterlist || Next >>

A brief moment of calm. But what now? Eggnapped Dragons, ongoing dangers back home. So many troubles, so little time.