CHAPTER 1.
Fritz's Wagon.
In the dull gloom of a passing shower, the dark sky was hidden under a blanket of grayed clouds and cascading layers of rainfall.
Concrete walkways stretched from both ends of a massive public service highway, besides four lanes meant to control the busy traffic of the area's capital, and largest city which sprawled in a nighttime lightshow in the backdrop and above.
The amount of water drenching the streets of Vienna was appalling- but not unheard of.
However, due to such proximity of the population within the city's limits, these famous streets, and the famous buildings attached to them- were barren, and business was shut down for the time.
In the beautiful architecture of a cultural, and nationalistic hub that would overwhelm the eyes of those never before introduced too it- a lone hooded figure curled tighter under his rain coat -mind too conflicted to focus on the wonders around himself.
Down the sidewalk he strolled, rain-boots clomping against the concrete wetly- water rushing and misting down his shoulders and the creases of the yellow-colored hood.
He- he, being the man seen here -had never been to the illustrious streets of Vienna, Austria.
Here he was now, and he was severely disappointed that sightseeing was not on his list of goals this stormy night.
The world was so grand outside his former closed-in life, there were places that were fable to him that he now understood in their true splendor- people that had seemed utterly alien, that now became familiar.
This history-rich city was no different for him.
It was an amazing place that he did not have time to stay and bask in.
For, through the rain as he walked- there was a objective, a mission, that he was on.
This 'Mission' might not make sense to those who had been ousted from a series of specific events that had entered his life a year and half ago- might not make sense, because of the singular horrors and wonders he had experienced in the most unlikely of places.
He had a tale that was brief, in span of physical passage- but epic in effects taken to everyone, and everything, around him.
A long time ago- there was a traveler passing through a road that he had never walked before. Similar to this rainy sidewalk.
A long time ago, this road- dusted with age, bland with uneventful rolling of time and its motions -was the least threatening thing, that anyone in the general vicinity, could ever, have predicted as the precipice of mankind's fate.
So a simple traveler went down this road, searching for an answer to his acutely boring life- and at first, came up with nothing.
Then, as he aimlessly kicked pebbles across the dirt highway- there was an elderly gentlemen who offered him something, a proposition.
'Watch this-here road, and you'll be making coin, and saving lives.' He explained. '-What do you think?'
'Why saving lives?' The traveler queried.
'There are... Horrible things, that try to trek this road.' The elder explained grimly. 'I understand if you wouldn't want to accept such a deal.'
'I... Have nothing else.'
'Then, t'is settled!'
-And so the traveler- the drifter -became a stalwart gull against whatever 'Horrible Things' were to infiltrate the road.
Again, at first, nothing happened, he came up dry- and bored once more. His life seemed uneventful in some stupid little guard-post on the side of the dirt way.
He fiddled. He mumbled. He chastised his own judgment.
Then like that, a monster attacked him, and nearly killed him.
The traveler, now-guard, was baffled by the creature's appearance into his life- and by its intentions -and challenged the sheer possibility of it all to the elder as he returned from elsewhere.
'This doesn't make sense! It's not real!' The traveler mourned.
'What isn't real, isn't always non-existent.' The elder mulled. 'I need your help. Please.'
'I... I have nothing else.'
'Then follow me.'
The monsters were unable to reach him for the longest of times it seemed- one of the creatures even sided, with the prey its fellows attempted to slay.
The traveler, the elder, the former-monster, were bolstered by another- less stable -member of the mistaken beasts.
Supernatural forces from the greatness beyond added to the conglomerate war-effort- and the crusaders- traveler, elder, two former-monsters, and the ghost of a hero -struck into the heart of the attacking creatures.
The elder fell, but so did one of the demonic antagonists- then, the ghost was gone, one of the renegade creatures- the one with the most craziness in its system -also perished.
Finally, the last 'Good' being on the traveler's side- the first renegade to go with him -was ended as the last of the demons were destroyed.
The traveler found the road empty again- like he had never found the elder and the prospect of his new adventure, his new life. Sorrowfully, the traveler left the dirt road- returned to his home faraway.
All the new companions he had made and connected with, had been taken from him. Sure, he had stopped the evil- but the cost was almost outweighing the forgotten possibility of his defeat.
The traveler almost lost himself in darkness.
Then, fate intervened. While the elder and the ghost were long gone- the two renegade creatures, his new friends- were returned to him. He revived them. His life was filled with sunlight again. The traveler, this time- had won.
He never forgot the dirt road- or the guard post -and especially, never did he forget the elder and the ghost of the hero.
The traveler- taking his companions with him -set off to ensure such horrific atrocities were never to be committed for a second time in their lives. He receded from the society around him. For in his mind, he had all the society he needed.
And who knows, up until today, he might have been right.
But the shadow of the dirt road is starting to loom again.
The creatures- while defeated -were not the only of their kind slinking in the dark, waiting for the right moment to pounce.
Something horrible is approaching the world's doorstep once more.
The only thing to stop it, is a traveler. A traveler, and- in this modern day -the right set of camera angles to see the danger.
So the traveler, in his raincoat, trudging through the deplorably wet conditions of Vienna, began anew his journey for liberation, and personal crusade.
This city was in danger. No one here knew it. And no one here would ever know it, if he had his way.
You see, those 'Beings' the shadows that lurked in his prior age- Vienna was housing one of them.
-Well, it was technically housing two of them- but he was only after the one.
Hiding in plain sight, this demon would begin to wreak havoc if left to its now awakened devices.
The traveler, could not have that.
It had taken a week of travel to reach Austria, and another two days to reach Vienna herself. Like prior stated- now he was here. No time to visit the shrines and memories of history.
Except, for the one he was already aiming for.
HEERESGESCHICHLICHES
-Read a massive plaque of stone emblazoned on the ancient-appearing, decadent, and steeple-topped face of a wondrous building that held five sets of large glass doors atop a grand flight of stairs.
This, was the Museum of Military History.
THIS, was where the traveler needed to enter during the hours of no business.
Taking a quick right in his stroll down the expansive walkway, the coated man went right through a series of thin metal line-borders that were arranged in a filing path to a ticket-booth and reservation kiosk- two green little hunch-back buildings that sat before the first step.
The traveler bypassed them quietly- mounted the first step, eyes locked from beneath his hood to the glass doors ahead-
"HALT! Stopp!"
-And he was set upon by a man calling through the rain.
Stopping in his tracks, he winced when a dull cone of illumination shone forth from a portable flashlight- boots clomped down the steps towards him, and very quickly, a man dressed in a blue-drab jacket with a guard hat on- stood before him- soaked.
The Austrian security worker reminded him of a part in his life he had left behind. It mused him.
"Das Anwesen befindet sich nicht offnen." The guard said formerly. "-Ich muss Sie bitten zu gehen."
Fumbling, the coated traveler's shoulders arched, and he tried to speak on shaking tongue.
He was forgetting his line. And, he did indeed, have a trained line he was supposed to say.
"-U-Uhm... Oh-crap- UH-Ic-Ich habe- Habe, uhm... G-Geschaft? Geschaft! Yeah-I mean- Ja!"
The guard looked at him through the rain- face now glistening with moisture as rain formed a downpour over and around his security hat, which he kept a hand atop to keep steady.
"Herr? Bist du betrunken?"
"-I-uhm.. I have busi- I MEAN- Ich habe G-Geschaft!- Geschaft... Oh, you know what- for goodness' sake! I can't speak German! Knock him out, please?"
The guard squinted at him with a lowered jaw- heard someone clear their throat behind him- and he spun around just as a palm flew out and connected with his forehead.
PCK
There was a hollow thud, the guard's eyes went wide, and he fell onto the concrete, out cold. His little hat flew a few inches over his cranium's final lay.
The hooded traveler breathed a sigh of relief, and gave a thumbs up at a taller hooded individual who stood over the security worker with disapproval.
"Thanks." He said. "Good hit!"
"It's- Ich habe Geschaft hier!- ICH HABE GESCHAFT HIER! How did you forget that?!" The other coat-covered person- a woman -barked in his face.
The man reclined, and blinked uncomfortably.
"I don't speak German..." He muttered. "-Rehearsing it a few times didn't help. Oops."
"It's amazing, that I know more German than YOU..."
"Oh-yeah? And what would I say if he asked- 'What business? With who?'- huh?"
"THEN I was gonna knock him out."
"Oh, so a few seconds longer, real great, yeah..."
"Shut up."
"Follow me, angry."
The man reached down, and dug out a card from the guard's belt, before bending down, and slipping his soaked coat-arms underneath the jacket-wrapped ones of the fallen Austrian.
As he started to drag the unconscious man towards the steps in sliding drags- the woman gazed with draped arms- completely at loss.
"-What?" He asked. "He'll get sick if we leave him out here!"
"You're unbelievable..."
"Well, it's the least we could do after you just kicked his ass!"
"You had one moment of being a fighter, ONE- and now you're a pacifist? Pfft."
"No! What about that freak I tore apart in Dover!"
"-It was a doll."
"A POSESSED doll! A possessed doll, with a CLEAVER- Trying to KILL ME. I need some kudos!"
"Stop talking and let's do this."
"Fine-fine... But don't expect me to take pity on someone YOU feel bad for..."
The woman covered the grand flight steps as her companion took longer to drag the guard up carefully with him.
Eventually, he leaned the security worker against one of the pillars that divided the top plat of the stairs before the glass doors- both coated beings happy at the lack of rain battering their features.
"How do we get in again? The doors are alarmed." She nodded.
"There should be a kiosk-door over here... C'mon."
"Alright."
Together, they jogged over to a inconspicuous dip in the plat that ran along the foot of the building- an alleyway that ran underneath the front face wall of the museum with a few stone steps descending.
The man hurried down them, and his friend walked after him.
At the foot of the steps, a steel door with a security lock stood dominant- it was alarmed, he knew from remembering the specifications he'd prepped with.
"What was the code again?"
"You forgot the God-damned code too?"
"... Maybe…"
"How have we survived this long?! You SUCK at this!" She moaned.
"Nah- I'm just yankin' your chain!" He chuckled. "-It's 677190."
"Doofus."
"A doofus you WUVS, yes?"
"Debatable."
"Ah-hah."
"Open the freakin' door..."
"Yeah-yeah... Nagulese."
She huffed at him as he swept the card he'd acquired through the black receiver box beside the electronically locked push-handle- which made a buzzing noise, and popped ajar for him to shove.
The door squeaked as he pressed both hands into the handle- and a small light revealed the stone interior of the kiosk to them in the dark rainy night.
The little office was empty- thank God.
Smiling briefly, the coated man rushed past the door- found the silently chiming key panel by the right-inner-side of the door frame- and dabbled his fingers across the keys to type in his previously stated knowledge-677190.
Basically, they had just entered as a security guard.
Thus, no one would have any indication to investigate one of the night duty from taking a break in the front employee station.
He guessed the Austrians normally didn't have museums broken-into in the middle of their tourist-infested capital all that often...
That worked really well with their plan.
Waiting for his companion to step in, he reached over, grabbed the inner latch of the door, and swung it closed with a slow drag.
CLUNG
-The constant chatter of the falling rain was lost to their hearing- now only symbolized by a low howling of the wind being discerned from inside the museum.
Checking around them, the man stowed the card on his pocket, looked back at the door, and 'Tsked' as if in humor.
"-See? Good thing I wore gloves!"
"'This about the whole HANDPRINTS discussion again?"
"Well you don't leave them! I DO."
"Touchy."
"Look who's talkin'..."
They started towards the center of the kiosk- the chamber forming a zenith of a small table with thin metal chairs lined around it, and flanked by a reception-like desk strewn with papers and folders, a desktop computer stood on the right corner with the tower by the desk's right foot on the floor.
A bookcase filled with pamphlets and magazines was propped on the wall behind that- and afterwards, was another door that would lead to the museum's lower level.
"This place stinks like moldy cheese..." The woman complained.
"Someone had a sandwich." He sneered, looking inside a waste-basket by the side of the desk. "-Nasty."
The door at the back also had a scanner black-box- so he drew the card down it, and this handle popped too.
He shoved the entry out of his path, waved his arm for her to follow him- the two silently worked up another stone flight of steps.
Tiny humming of machinery- what sounded like electrical equipment -buzzed at the top of the stairs, which were sided by concrete walls, and topped with metal railings. He was sure to keep an eye towards the railings in case someone looked down at them.
"You wanna' head up?" He asked.
"Sure."
The woman leapt at the side of the concrete- fingers grabbing and wrapping around the top ledge beneath the metal railings- all at a height that no normal person could simply scale with a single jump.
She hoisted, scrabbled over the rail top- and vanished above.
He still worked up the stairs- reached the last one- and peered around the side his companion didn't go into.
They were in the museum's basement sublevel- four fat generators- powered down -were lined against a westward wall gridded with wires and pipes. Heating and monitoring boxes taller than he was drew down from the northern wall from one end to the other end of the room.
"Psst!"
He swung his eyes over to see his friend pointing at another small stairwell.
"Hold on..." He whispered.
The man hurried from his crouch behind the railing towards her.
"This entrance should prop us out between two exhibits..." He said.
"Okay. How far from OUR exhibit?" She queried whilst they both started up the flight.
"Two halls to our left."
"-Easy."
"I did good research, huh?"
"Not bad... For someone who sucks at this." She snickered.
"I hate you."
"No you don't."
"Meh."
The man slowly compressed the push-handle- and flinched when the door started to squeak open.
When he hesitated, his companion grew annoyed, grumbled, and shoved the door, and him, forwards with a forceful clacking of bodies and metal.
"OOF-!" The man was cut off as he nearly tumbled through the flung-open door. "-Watch it!"
"SSH!"
As she swatted the door to close behind them- they both took a look around the new hall they had emerged into.
Right on the dot, the door they had exited had a maintenance warning sign above its frame- it was between two outstretches of walls that most likely had exhibits on their other ends from where they stood.
The man pointed down the alley of sorts they were in, to a grand, red-drab carpet-covered passage ahead, that was barred on both sides by fancy-looking rope and golden stand barricades.
They made sure to keep their voices out of the picture- as doors closing and footsteps would not arouse suspicion of the security staff here, but English-speaking out-of-place people, might raise an alarm or two.
It was just a thought really.
The showroom hall was lined with slots that were built in on the sides of the pass, each containing an old piece of machinery, there were weapons and ammo racks filled with guns, blades, parts and bullet shells.
The hooded man spun around slowly to take in the sights when they stood in the center of the aisle.
"I would've loved to visit here outside of work..."
"Well right now, we can't." The woman said solemnly. "-Check that out though, they have some old Lee-Enfields'..."
"-Oo! Hey, look at the Austro-Hungarian Officer Blade there!"
"Wow... That is-NO. Concentrate. Come on."
"Right, right... Sorry."
The girl leaned over to hold his shoulder for a quick squeeze.
"We can come back someday."
In the hanging ambience of the museum's nightly closing, the man shook his head in uncertain affirmative.
These were the kinds of talks that started out nice, and turned rather bleak as they progressed for the two of them. They'd known each other long enough to understand when the subject probably should be just left alone.
"Maybe." He said.
"Maybe." She confirmed with a smile. "You said our goal was two halls down?"
"Yep, THAT way-" He jabbed a finger to their north, down a curling hall of white walls, and green carpet flooring. "-There it is."
"Do you think... IT knows?"
"I hope not."
They started to go down the hall with tentative steps.
A sense of anxiousness ran down them like the drying water that still coated their hoods.
Their target was just around that bend.
"You know what I always say, right?" He muttered to her. "If worst comes to worst. Don't wait for me, okay?"
"-And what I always say? If you're dead. I'M dead. Deal with it."
"Mmhmm... You're my girl. Confirmed."
"Only YOU would get stuck with a crazy one, right?"
"Yyyyep."
Right as they turned around the corner- they saw the pedestal.
A great rectangular platform surrounded by gold barricades, topped with a red drapery indented with four, cigar-like mats where the heavy object atop them had been.
Notice the tidbit, of the object having been there.
For the display plat was empty.
"Oh shit..." He muttered. "-Oh no."
"Where is it?" She asked quickly. "-Where did it go? D-Did they move it?!"
"N-No! No it should-"
"Where's the car?!"
"It should-"
RVVVVVMMMMM
The engine growl behind them stopped their conversation dead.
And, the only scariest thing besides there being a running automobile inside the museum exhibits- was that this particular car, did not have gasoline in it. In fact, the engine hadn't been used for over a hundred years since 1915 or so.
But the old auto ran smoothly.
They turned when two dull cones of light shown against their moist coat backs.
Before them, the black-colored relic was down the hall they'd entered the vehicle section from- having spun around the curve, it aimed its bumper directly for them, engine spewing out tiny pillars of black, demonic soot.
"Hey, there's our target..." The man said with a chuckle. "-A piece of history."
"A piece of CRAP. Let's kill it..." She snarled.
"Who ever thought a year later, I'd be hunting Franz Ferdinand's car?"
Right as he said that- the car screeched down the aisle for them- tires digging up chunks of the carpet, engine roaring louder than its physical model should have ever allowed.
The man stiffened, arms flaying at his sides.
"-Wait-!" He cried. "Wait for it."
"-I don't like that idea-"
"WAIT."
The car grew closer. So close, that in its speeding- he could see the headlights beginning to change hue from white, to crimson.
The bronze-colored bumper shined at him, then, he jumped upwards.
"GO!"
The woman was gone from his vision as her untamed quickness took her in a dodge to the right.
But, after all, he was only human.
So, Mr. Ferdinand's car hit him in the ankles.
Thank the lord it was a really, really old car, cramped in tight-quarters where its speed couldn't be matched to lethal impact.
Still, his feet flared when the hood hit him mid-flight.
"OW-! Oh-crap!"
CLUNK
Strewn atop the car's hood, the man gazed inside at the empty driver's cabin, and the empty passenger seats behind that.
His arms wrapped over the hood's flanks, and his legs hugged the vehicle's frontal grille.
With a violent screech, the car skidded to a halt- nearly tossing him off the top.
"-HIT HIM NOW!" The hooded one called. "HIT HIM NOW!-"
The hood swung upwards.
He felt air rush by all his body at once.
The car's flung-ajar engine cover catapulted him a foot in the air.
The man sailed with a silent hiss of air, clambered and impacted into the rear passenger bay of the car, through four chairs of dark red leather.
"Ack!"s and "Oof!"'s gave off every time he slacked off a part of the chairs or inner doors.
His head swam, and pain ached in his head and legs.
This car was a freakin' fighter. A car. Who'd have thunk it?
"H-Huh... THUNK." He mused to himself.
"I GOT HIM!"
CLK!
RVVVVVVVVVVVVVVIIIRRRRRRRR
Flinging to lean on his knees on the back of a passenger seat cushion- the hooded man leant over the rear trunk to see his companion jamming her right forearm into the leftwards back wheel of the car- jamming the mechanics that connected it to the undercarriage.
Steam built from the tearing carpet as the car tried to reverse, and succeeded only in jerking her arm down a few times.
"HURRY-UP!" She snapped, reaching down to wrap the other arm around the tire.
The hooded man nodded, clambered over the seats in the back of the car- and hung over the open-topped cabin.
The steering wheel looked like it was convulsing as the entity controlling the vehicle frantically tried to parry his friend from holding its wheel.
He would have none of it.
"-We've been looking for you, freak!" He spoke to the dashboard. "Pucker-up!"
A garbled mish-mash of deep groans and shrill cackles emanated from all of the car's physical form at once- the body started to jerk around from the raw effort of desperation the vehicle was put through.
The hooded one pressed his hands to the wheel, stopping it from another turn.
He closed his eyes, and began to link up with the addition he had been granted.
The addition, that had been instilled in his very being, after he had completed the adventure of his life a year ago.
White-flowing wisps of energy cascaded from the fingers wrapping over the wheel, the car began to shake, and the screaming noises grew louder and panicked.
"Out you go, come on, you BITCH!" The man shouted through grit teeth, white light flowing across the wheel and his forearms.
"COME-ON! I REALLY NEED YOU TO SUCK-RIGHT NOW!" The woman yelled behind him.
"-I'M-TRYING!"
SKSH
"-I GOT HIM!"
The white light receded, the man clambered back into the driver's seat, hands quaking, glowing red.
The car stopped running- the engine stalled, the wheels grew still- the woman gasped as she draped over the rear tire when her strength finally wasn't needed to keep it down.
She grabbed the rim of the trunk, and spoke loudly through heaves.
"-K-Kill it!"
"Back to hell, you go!"
The man squeezed his fingers- emitting a terrible screech of animalistic vocals.
His fists shook violently, the red energy seething between his fingers pulsed heavily.
He grunted, and his hands grew smaller as the thing he had in his grasp, was literally crushed.
A sickening burst of what sounded like snapping bone flooded the chamber, the shrieking stopped. Then, gushing, black blood flowed from the man's hands.
Panting, he winced at the material that was repugnantly seeping from the entity that he had extracted- and now -the entity that he had destroyed.
Franz's car was still, it bucked a bit when the woman leaned upwards to stand, and gazed at him over the rear passenger bay.
"-H-Holy crap... P-Phillip? You okay?"
"Yep... I'm, uh... I'm freaking peachy. Yep."
"Are you hurt?"
"No... But the demon is."
"-Is that-?"
"Oh yeah, I got him..." He tossed his head back, discarding the hood over his features to drape across his coat's back.
Phillip Linn opened and dipped his hands over the driver-side door's top rim, letting a sickly concoction of black sludge seep onto the carpet down there.
Her left hand- a silver hook in place after the wrist- reached upwards, and tore the hood down to a similar position on her own apparel.
Phil frowned in musing at the furred, elongated, vulpine features that stuck its tongue out to him in response.
"-We won at least, right, Fox'?"
"Eeew." She sneered.
Foxy stretched her back in an arch, and rolled her shoulders whilst stepping back from the car.
Phil grinned dumbly at her- flicked his hands -nudged open the driver's door with his heel, and stepped out onto the stained carpet- wiping his slick hands down the moisture of his coat.
"I think for the first time in my life... I'm grateful it's raining outside."
Foxy kicked her legs and cricked her neck both ways.
"I could use an all-natuurale' jog, couldn't I?"
"If you say so."
"You did good." She smiled. "I can't believe we just... WON like that."
"Experience always helps." Phillip Linn swept his hands one last time, and gestured for the tire-tracked way they came down the museum hall. "Shall we?"
"Is it break-time yet?"
"We're in Austria... There HAS to be a break-time."
"You're going to help me unscrew this stupid hook tonight, right?"
"Where'd you leave your spare paw?"
"I think in the van's cubby..."
"Alrighty."
"How do you think Mangle is doing?"
"She hasn't burnt down my house yet... So, hopefully, we still have a 'Yet' to discuss."
"She means well..."
"All a matter of perspective?"
"Different camera angles, sure-" Foxy pointed at the several cam-corders in the ceiling corners of the hall, that had recorded the whole fight. "-Mind taking those down?"
"Yep!"
Phillip held an open palm- and a burst of crackled white flickered all down his wrist.
Then, all the electrical equipment in the museum flickered. The cameras burnt out. The footage, and knowledge, was lost.
-0-0-0-0-0-