Saturday, February 17, 2007

Something Wicked...

Macon turned a full three hundred and sixty degrees in the middle of the street. He was surrounded. Markus snapped his fingers again and the shadows presented themselves. They were now in human form and still both man and woman were easily a full head taller than Macon. Beads of perspiration broke out on his forehead and his throat went dry.
"Boss, from the looks of y'all, you don't need my help," Macon said. He shifted his eyes away from the tall woman beside him and looked at Markus.
"That is where you are wrong my friend. The Urahman Clan and the Murad Clan are hunting us Mr. Dean. You are the one who is to lead us to the Promised Land. Your name, does it not mean "chief of ten?" said Markus. He lifted his enormous right hand, palm up towards his followers.
Macon looked at them and counted. Including Markus, there were only ten of the hybrids.
"Crap," said Macon. "This is some kind of joke right? I mean, there are more of you waiting somewhere else aren't there?"
"No Mr. Dean. We are the last of our kind. That is why we must go to the empty world and live peacefully. The Urahman Clan were despotic vampire rulers that gave birth to us and the Murad Clan wanted us wiped out. They said we were abominations, that wolf blood should never be mixed with the blood of the enemy. Most of us never made it out of their compound in the Caucasus," Markus said. He retracted his canines and smiled more humanly.
"Fine, but we need to leave immediately. I just need to make one call," Macon said. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed 1 on the keypad.
"Sid, yeah, Macon here, look, I got a situation here in L.A., get Jack on the horn, and we're gonna need a door opened to an empty earth. I got refugees. Thanks," Macon said.
"So, who's buyin' me my last beer of the night?" Macon said.
Markus smiled and clapped his hands.


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