Original Fiction: The Freak Show: Chapter 1, B-Reel

**Opinionated** · 10-16-2006 09:02 PM

B-REEL START

Later, into the evening, Prometheus pulled up at a tall, cruddy-looking motel. He sighed, and started equipping himself. It was unknown whether this was the target’s first moon or not. Lycans never transformed on the first full moon after they’ve been bitten.

He slipped two holsters onto his belt, and set the tranquilizer gun into one and his Crossgun into the other. He checked that he had is crucifix, communion wafer, and rosary. His cell phone was charged and had full bars. Not much else he needed to worry about.

Sighing and slumping in his car seat, he flipped the visor down and opened the mirror, even though he knew all too well what he looked like. How that scar started at the top of his nose and ran down the right side, following those lines that form naturally down the sides of the nose and mouth, branching off at his cheekbone and the base of his jaw. It wasn’t that slim line that artists use. It was thick and ugly, and always flushed for his cheeks. Flushed an odd purplish tone too.

And the whole right side of his face seemed notably lower than the left. His lips were so dark they were almost black, making him look like a Goth. And there was a scar, like a patch, on his left cheek.

Harder than he’d meant to, he slammed the visor back up and climbed out of the car. He played the ruse and asked the front desk for the room, even though he had a good idea where it was.

The elevator was slow, and it dragged on forever on getting to the top floor. That and the room numbers falling off made it hard to find room 432. It was three doors from the window, and the only room that looked occupied.

“Mr. Colgren?” Prometheus announced loudly as he knocked on the door. He got no response. He kept knocking and asking until another voice spoke out.

“You’re that man from the church!” The woman who had been in confessional with Father Johanson exclaimed. “Are you looking for Alex too?”

“Yeah. You know where he is?” Prometheus asked her as he clapped her on the shoulder in a friendly way. It was the oldest trick in the book, but nothing worked better.

“No, he’s been acting weird for the past two months, and-“

“Two months!?” Prometheus yelled, whipping out the tranquilizer and raising his foot to kick the room door down. Turns out, he didn’t need to bother, because at that moment a large gray-black mass of fur, muscle, and mean slammed through the door, knocking it off it’s hinges and straight into Prometheus.

The now-turned Lycan was about five feet tall, and looked like a cross between a wolf and an ape. It could easily run on all four legs, but also prop itself up on it’s hind feet like an ape. And right now it was scared, and in pain.

It lashed out at the girl, triggering her brain’s ‘Run!’ reflex, but still caught her across the arm. All she said during this was a kind of inhuman cross between a moan and a scream, a tone that kept steady when the remains of the door were thrown at the Lycan.

The Lycan lunged at Prometheus, but he grabbed it before it hit him and threw it down the hall of the motel. The latter portion of the fight/flight formula won, and leapt out the window and onto the roof of the nearest building. Prometheus wasted no time in following it.

Finally the Lycan jumped into an abandoned parking garage. It looked back, and saw Prometheus standing there with a perfect shot. It jumped up onto the next floor through those slits where the ramp goes between levels.

It met a shotgun. The unmistakable boom followed by a cloud of glinting silver particles. What rock salt does to humans, ‘silver sand(small bits of silver)’ does to Lycans. It dropped back onto Prometheus’ level, followed by a woman that would forever be remembered by Prometheus.

She was tall, easily 6’ 6”, maybe a little more. Long black hair flowed down to the small of her back. An open gray windbreaker showed a short tank top that showed her well-built midriff. Her bust was that impossible ‘just right.’ Se was just a pillar of assorted beauty.

Of course, she had a double-barreled shotgun in her hands, and finished reloading it with something that probably wasn’t ‘silver sand.’ She snapped to barrels back into place as Prometheus leveled his Crossgun at her. “Thanks for saving me the trouble. I’ll be taking my dog back to the pound now.” He said calmly.

“Sorry, you’ll have to pick him up from the pound.” The woman said, just as calmly. “Oh look, animal control’s coming now.” She said as headlights suddenly burst into life behind Prometheus, illuminating the woman for a moment.

One of her eyes was a sharp green, the other brown. But what Prometheus really noticed was the faint line that ran horizontally across her midriff, and then noticed similar lines around her wrists.

He was so distracted; he nearly forgot there was a moving car behind him. He could almost feel the hot air of the engine behind him before he dove out of the way, his Crossgun slipping out of his hand.

It was a Ford E-Series, with the back door opened for the woman to toss the Lycan in. Prometheus grabbed the tranquilizer gun out of its holster and fired a rushed shot that hit the door of the van after the woman had jumped in.

Prometheus fumbled for another dart as the van pulled away. The last thing he saw of it was the woman blowing him a kiss before she closed the door.

The now tired Hunter pulled his cell phone out and speed dialed Brother Johanson. “Cleanup at the address you gave me, one tagged. I can get back to base on my own.” He said, knowing that Johanson and one of the Golems would be getting in the church van and tidying up loose ends.

He pulled up to the church, and had the janitor let him into the workshop, where he found the girl, one of the church Golems, and Father Johanson. She had a mug of something that was steaming in her hands, as the Father got a blood sample and took it to a large machine nestled against the wall.

“You didn’t get it?” Johanson asked as he started preparing the sample to test it for Lycanism Disease or the toxin that starts it.

“No, there was some woman with a shotgun, sprayed it with silver sand, grabbed it, and left in a un-plated E-series van. I have no idea who she was.” Prometheus said as he pulled up an empty stool and slid onto it.

“Wh-what was that… thing?” The girl asked.

Father Johanson started saying, “Don’t worry about it, Jernice, it was just a-“

“Lycan. Werewolf.” Prometheus said, then sighed. “C’mon, let’s get a bite. A full stomach will make you feel better. She’s all right to go outside, Brother?”

“Yeah, the test’ll take an hour anyway. Go with him, he’s a good man, Jernice. He won’t hurt you.” Johanson said as soothingly as possible, like to a frightened child. Which, in a figurative sense, she was.

“Yeah. You probably know the restaurants here better than me anyways.” Prometheus said as he dropped to his feet and motioned at the entry.

“Alright.” Jernice said at last as she set the mug on the counter and walked out of the workshop with Prometheus. They had a lot to talk about.

B-REEL END