14 Years Ago
He sat alone in the room, a single lamp emitting a dull yellow light onto the messy desk, the tile floor covered in pieces of paper with paragraphs or writing, some in different languages, others in pure symbols and the rest seeming like gibberish. Besides the papers, there were broken bottles of all different manners of alcohol strewn about.
The desk was covered in stacks of files of all labels and sizes. Some were filled beyond full, others contained only a few pages. Some with faded pictures from long ago and some fresh. At first it had only been a few hours. But hours turn into days easily, and those days become weeks even faster.
His name was Shawn Silvestor, about six-foot-four, with jet black hair and a slight amount of grey on the sides. It had been only a few months since his family had suffered the loss that it did. It was the reason for all of this research. Silvestor had been searching for every single lead he could, every last piece of knowledge of the species. Werepuppies. The cured form of Werewolves. His wife had been one, and they wouldn't cure her. They thought they were Saints, but because of them, Silvestor lost his wife, his son, and his daughter.
He took a glance at one photo in a frame. It contained himself, but well-kept, in a nice sweater, with his brown haired wife by his side in a flowery white dress.Standing in front of them both were two children, a boy and a girl, each in tidy clothes matching either of the parents. The boy was at least twelve, the girl maybe was four. The photo was nearly three months old and it had been taken by his brother-in-law a month before the incident. The glass was cracked, damaged by the incident that took them all.
The door behind him opened and a young woman in a business suit and skirt walked in.
"Sir? The board has arrived for you."
Silvestor stood, a small, wicked grin growing on his face. His voice worn and rough. "Good. Inform them I will be in shortly."
His assistant nodded and turned to leave, but stopped and looked back at him. "Sir, are you sure you don't need a few days off?"
Silvestor looked at her over his shoulder. "Francine, I believe I made it clear to you to not bother me about anything not work related."
Francine took a step back and swallowed. "Y-yes sir, you have, b-but I just, in the company's best interest, it would be helpful for the C.E.O. to--"
Silvestor turned sharply, lunging at her and grabbing her by the arms tightly. "Don't lecture me on how to run my business Ms. Hernandez." His voice was harsh and venomous, his grip was cold and tight, ready to snap her arms, or maybe even her neck. His eyes burnt with a crisp hatred. He released her and she stumbled back.
He turned his back to her and muttered one word to her. "Go."
With that, she quickly turned and practically ran out, unwilling to stay near such a man who was not only powerful as a him in speaking, but he was by far the most high up business man in the world. Not to mention his crime organization, and despite its rather small numbers, it had powerful allies. It's why she hadn't gone to the police, or anyone. That wasn't a risk that was worth her life.
"Where is he?" said a voice with a Latino accent. "He should've been in here nearly an hour ago!"
"Calm down Mr. Vaughn," replied a sophisticated French woman in her mid fifties at the earliest. "He lost his whole family, give him time."
"Shh, dont say that out loud Rebecca!" came a harsh low toned male voice. "You know what he'll do to you if he hears you mention his family!"
The double doors flew open and Silvestor strode in proudly.
"Gentleman, ladies, I've done it! Project Dragon Fur is a success! And I've hired nearly one thousand members for Project Extermination so it can now begin."
"How do you plan to fund all of this?" said the woman from before.
Silvestor laughed. "Our company spans the entire globe. This board, and all all you wonderful twelve members are what will help me fund it. Im diverting a portion of this company's profit to the cause, and the mercenaries I've hired are incredible. I've seen their skills.
"Not only that, but I've found everything on the black market that we could ever need. Our Research Division has already started the Conversion. Dozens of that wretched species are now loyal to us, and they will be the pioneers in studying their magic. They will all belong to us, and they will all serve us. The ones that don't perish, that is."
Several of the board members exchange glances before the one who had hushed Rebecca stands a bit. "Shawn, the board has come to a decision."
Silvestor looks to him with a sharp gaze. "Do enlighten me Martin."
Martin gulps, and exhales a bit. "Shawn, the board wishes to remove you from the board for a while."
"Is that right?" Silvestor replies, unsurprised.
Martin nods. "Maybe you could just, take a few days to grieve and maybe visit their--"
He is suddenly cut off, unable to even let out a scream as a searing purple beam slams into him, turning him into ash in a blink of an eye.
The other board members stand hastily and back up slowly. Silvestor blows some smoke off his hand and looks at the remaining eleven board members.
"Never speak of my family, or I will use the same magic on you, understood?"
The board members nod quickly, each of their faces filled with fear, as if their greatest nightmares had suddenly stepped in front of them and shredded their confidence into the tiniest shards of self esteem. Each one of them had been hit with the realization of how big the world truly was, and how dangerous this man truly was.
Silvestor grinned wickedly, his gaze panning across the room at all of them. "The magic of the Werepuppy, as demonstrated, is one to not only be studied, but to be used and manipulated. It is the main contributor to our campaign, our mission to get them all, or end them all. This is the birth of their end. This, ladies and gentlemen, is BlackSpire. Welcome."