I'm back after a long hiatus and ready to get back into the writing game.
The sky was burning. So were the trees, leaves turned silver, and crumbling to ash. Chicago is silent. Destruction reigns, and there is barely anyone left to scream. Men, women, and children are turned into some blood thirsty beasts. The others who were used as food were left covered in soot and charred, but bloodless or mutilated. A small girl lies by his feet as he comes up from behind. The child could be sleeping, if not for her crumpled position. Her hair, brown and wavy, is matted and partially covers her face. He kneels and gently brushes it aside. A futile, useless gesture, but he makes it none the less.
She was one of his people, after all.
Her name was Alysa, and the closest thing he had to a daughter. She had round brown eyes and her olive skin reminded him greatly of his lost love Mystic. He had taken her under his charge when he saved her from her recently turned Vampire father. A tear rolled down his cheek to settle in the thick beard that has grown on his face as he took in the sight of the former feisty youngster. The only traces of his age are the lines etched into his face and the thick spots of gray in his beard.
"Sonava-bitch," he whispered.
If only she hadn't thought she knew everything. Perhaps he did the same when he was younger, when he bridled against the Governments' archaic ways, feeling that they suppressed his spirit. In his mind they were old. In the pride of youth he believed he knew better. Perhaps he did.
That didn't make this right.
No one, deserved this.
He knew. As he watches the burning city, as he witnessed the fall of his race to a man that wishes to control time, as he understood the terrible repercussions that are probable if he succeeds.
He realized that he was crying. Where he stood, tears streamed down his face, washing a path in the dirt, ash and blood on his cheeks.
"Robert won't get that chance. He will die," Drystan promised.
He stared at the endless array of burning buildings. The disgust filled his mouth and threatened to spill the breakfast he had of wild collard greens and potatoes. It wasn't his choice to become a vegetarian, but due to the lack of people able to take care of animals coupled with the non-human blood drinkers keeping the remaining animals to themselves. He figured it was the better choice for survival's sake.
Thick smoke filled the skies making it hard to breathe, he had taken his helmet off to get a whiff of the air and wished he hadn't. His days were filled with tending to the little garden he managed to keep only a short way from his cave hide out. After Mystic's death he quit the Nightstalkers, and made himself a permanent resident in Quimby's Overnight Pub until the Vampires made their move to take over the Government. What they didn't know was that a wild card was created by them in the form of Robert Jordan, who unbeknownst to them had his own agenda. Basically, it all came down to what was deemed as the time transmatrix. It was a device found on the South African coast by Jaxon Ryde. It has been said he didn't understand the gravity of what he had, and didn't truly discover what the device was until an incident caused him to use it. It was shortly after this that he disappeared.
History had a way of distracting Drystan and at the most inopportune times. His father had long stopped being a sore spot for him. He had never had a chance to meet him, nor knew much about the man except for the fact that he bears a striking resemblance to him. He didn't know his mother either, and only found out who they were because of Personnel files. Somewhere in the NS HQ there is a statue with a plaque that has his parents names on it.
It was with this memory that Drystan heard it, howling. It filled him with dread and anger.
Howling was everywhere. It came from in front of him, behind him, to his left, and right. It echoed in the distance, bounced off the broken bits of building, flooded his ears. It thundered inside his skull, his brain, and into his very thoughts.
The sounds coincided with the flashback playing in his head, a snippet of hundreds of memories slapped together and zipping by at the speed of thought. Howling, howling, and more howling. The howling of Werewolves, the howling of beasts, the howling of people, his fellow Nightstalkers, as they were shot, ripped to shreds, some of them literally eaten alive.
He made sixty-four 3 months ago, yet retained a thin, but muscular build, uncut black hair stretched to just below his neck and weathered, rugged cheeks. His eyes were a cold, dull brown color and betrayed the chaotic feelings inside him. He wore a weathered black body uniform with an insignia on his suit of two silver pistols placed opposite of one another tilted upward at an angle with golden flames taking up the background surrounded by a golden circle with a tinge of crimson. "Nightstalkers Alpha Squad" is engraved over the insignia in faded letters.
The helmet he wears completes this outfit in that it helps with his eyesight that has been slowly leaving him. The helmet has a visor that was a prototype in the Nightstalker labs. The restorative properties of the visor helps restore the damage done to his corneas' on a mission in his past while attempting to save someone he loved.
Built into this suit are holsters for his double MRB Eagle II damage dealers, they go everywhere with him. He feels naked without the feel of them somewhere on his body. The cool silver metallic color stands out against the dark of his suit, yet fits so snugly in their holsters for easy access should he ever need them. There are names engraved on the smooth ivory handles of each. "Mystic" and "Match" the guns themselves seem to have a mind of their own at times when Drystan is in peril. Neither will allow itself to be too far from his side. Whether this is something built into the customized weaponry he doesn't know.
On his back he wears a 55 lbs. Compound longbow, and a heavy duty full tang sword made of the same metal substance as his suit only sharpened to a fine edge. The blade has a slight curve to it. It is light with a handle that is sturdy, and built to withstand a lot of damage. Drystan has to be careful while using this sword, the sword will cut through just about any metal with the small exception to the suit.
If he had to guess they must have smelled the blood that was spilled by the Vampires that had killed Alysa and the few survivors that she tried to traffic back to the Nightstalkers HQ. After the fall of the Nightstalkers the HQ remained standing and held off the attack of the Supernatural forces due to the power Grid known to the survivors as "The Grid" it was created by the founder of NS Jaxon Ryde who has gone missing to places unknown. The Grid is made of special properties that singles out the specific genetic anomalies that distinguishes humans from the Supernatural. The Grid is not perfect, but it serves its purpose.
After the Vampires gained control of the Government there was a marshal law set in place that targeted the Werewolves. The Vampires didn't know that the Werewolves were larger in number. Packs from all over the earth banded together and launched an all out attack on the Vampires which threw humans smack dab in the middle of the fight. In reality the fighting was really about who would be able to keep humans as a main food source. At this time when all of this was happening Drystan had been firmly saturated in his alcohol bottle.
He managed to pull himself from his drunken stupor ten years ago when the Nightstalkers were finally losing the war for the Earth. The battles raged for 33 years, with the Nightstalkers gaining a slight advantage during the 24th year mark by the cultivation of venom. It has ten times the kick of that stuff the old NS Corp used to give out with the only down side being that once you're on it, you need to keep taking to keep your body going. Luckily, it only needs to be taken every four months or so.
Every division of the Nightstalker Organization condensed into one, and not only that even some of the other agencies combined to fight this war with the Supernatural. Not all of them were bad if he wanted to be honest with himself. There were some that even fought with them for a chance for all of us to live together. It would never work however, because there were always humans that wanted to get revenge for their loved one. People and supernatural alike were idiots. Everyone he knew with the small exception of a few had fallen. Nicholas had fallen protecting a school of children and another man he hadn't gotten the name of.
The howling grew closer as he scooped Alysa's broken form into his arms. Anger fueled his movements. Tears streamed down his face as he ran in the direction of the Grid.
Drystan was two blocks away from the safety of the Grid when the wolves caught up to him. He placed Alysa down on the ground gently then prepared himself for battle. He knew he wasn't going to make it to the Grid so he made sure he was in an open area to give himself a better chance to dispatch the beasts.
Pulling the full tang sword from its sheath the sound giving off a slight "snick" as it came out. The first wolf came at him fast and low. Drystan twisted his body in such a way to deliver a savage kick which sent it flying back into a long abandoned car.
The first was followed by another two that became cautious after seeing what happened to their friend.
Drystan was ever mindful of where the wolves were. His group was running low on ammunition, or else he would have put these beasts down without a moments hesitation. His blade captured the essence of the quarter moon for a second as he brought it to rest in front of him. The wolves took that as a que to attack. Both came at him.
Drystan didn't have time for this, but something else dawned on him as he swung the obsidian sword in an overarching circle catching one of the huge beasts soft sides. The blade slid through cleanly spraying blood all over the ground.
He had made a mistake. He had forgotten the first rule of the world as it is now. In his moment of sorrow he had forgotten to check if Alysa had been turned. As his mind went over the first mistake he had made, he made another. He had forgotten about the last wolf.
Large jaws clamped around his left arm. The strength of the wolf was astonishing. Drystan found himself flying through the air only to smash hard into the ruins of an old apartment building. At some point he had lost his sword.
"Damn it," he cursed, struggling to get to his feet. The wolf was no fool. He was already stalking Drystan. The suit protected him, but he could get battered around which could prove fatal in itself.