How blessed are some people, whose lives have no fears, no dreads; to whom sleep is a blessing that comes nightly, and brings nothing but sweet dreams. -Bram Stoker
Part One
Newkirk felt Alder's arrival. The madness slipped over his better half like poison dropped into a Sherry glass. It woke the Englishman from his exausted sleep, like being thrown into cold water.
"No, no, no, no. Not tonight." He whispered in frustration to one of the bed corners. "Not now." It was not a good night for his little world to end, he was too tired. Not to mention what the guvner would think...
"Newkirk! Newkirk!" Schultz broke the cold silence of an early October morning. His voice rang out like the fire alarm bell. And as it faded away so did any chance of this being a bad dream.
It was just nearly five and the group had just come in an hour before, after a successful but harrowing mission in Dusseldorf.
The terror in the Sargeant's voice kept the grumbling and nasty comments to a minimum. Instead the prisoners flooded him with a chorus of "What is wrong?" as he burst into the barracks
Except for Peter who locked eyes with the German Bär and asked without needing an answer. "Alder in the Kommendant's office?"
"Yes. And I have no idea what happened, he got a letter from Berlin earlier but nothing out of the ordinary I don't think. I don't know what to do." The usual easy going man was pale, far beyond his usual bouts of cowardism.
Newkirk, still fully dressed, slid right out of bed and onto the floor boots first. He patted Schultz on his round shoulder, an understanding look in his eyes. "It had to 'appen eventually. I'll take care of it Schultzy." The British man was keenly aware of the guvner standing in the doorway of his quarters, his stare like daggers.
Secrets were common place among the men but nothing ever serious. Serious secrets became dangerous secrets very quickly. And this whole exchange smacked of secrets to the Colonel. But he was a careful man in the midst of a situation, something Newkirk hoped lasted long enough to defuse Alder's wrath. The beast had not run free for...
Schultz interrupted his thoughts. "Thank you Newkirk." He relaxed but then tensed up again. "But he is going to be so angry with me. He told me, never never tell anybody!" He was working his way into a tizzy. "Now he will have to explain things to Colonel Hogan. You will have to explain things to Colonel Hogan." Schultz swallowed and noticed their observer. "Oh hello Colonel Hogan."
Newkirk slipped out around Schultz in that moment of distraction and made for the office, trusting (hoping) that Schultz had ordered the guards not to shoot him. He wasn't at the top of his game as it was and if Alder had truly broken free, he was going to need to be as close as possible.
"Colonel Hogan! Colonel Hogan! You cannot leave the Barracks! Colonel Hogan! Alder has very sharp teeth! Colonel Hogan, let Newkirk handle it! Colonel Hogan."
His guvner was on his heels, but he didn't spare him any special attention. He couldn't afford to. He just hoped he could stop Alder without actually going into the office.
Hid mind was searching, probing the animal mind he felt in the office for any sign of Kommendant Klink.It was there, faint as a flickering flame, nearly consumed by the force of the storm that was the beast. The mind Newkirk touched was raging, in his weakened state it nearly carried him away with it...the rage...the hunger...the pain. He tore himself away with a gasp. That approach certainly was not going to work.
"Newkirk tell me what is going on!" His guvner ordered, angry, hurt and afraid as they stepped into building. It was like a knife in Peter's heart. He slowed down ever so slightly to spare a look at the Colonel, begging for understanding. The slow turned to a stop, blue eyes met brown.
It was a mistake. They barely had time to start moving to the back office when Alder broke out. The majestic salt and pepper beast exploded from the door. He sent splintered pieces of it flying and washed like an avalanche of teeth and foaming jaws towards Colonel Hogan, sensing weakness...sensing humanity.
Peter reacted quickly. He shoved Hogan hard over Helga's desk. He tumbled head over heels towards the floor on the opposite side. It cost the Corporal the time to dodge.
Alder hit Newkirk like a truck, his jaws clamping down on the area where the shoulder and neck joined, his wicked teeth tearing into chest, neck and back alike
Newkirk couldn't hold back a scream, even as he scrambled to grab any part of Alder he could use the push the beast off of him, finally grabbing him under the jaw.
"Change" Newkirk shouted in desperation, pushing command into it. The power of the voice was undirected, not focused enough and it drained him, badly.
But Alder's grip loosened for an instant before he brought his teeth down again. "CHANGE!" He tried again, even more frantically. He chased it with a blow to Alder's throat.
Alder staggered back, head shaking, human features fighting the beast's. "Change" The command this time was small, nearly silent and full of more pleading than command. Blood soaked the Englishman's sweater, welling from the deep tooth marks in his torso. His voice was weak and his eyes were growing heavy.
This time the spell struck true and Alder flowed backed completely into Kommendant Klink, in all his human monocle wearing glory. His face was that of a broken man, all rage and anger gone, just pain remaining.
He knelt on the floor in the outer office among the splintered remains of the inner door. He blinked bewildered, confusion clouding his features. "Was ist los?" He gasped.
Newkirk could no longer find the strength to do anything but groan. Then he closed his eyes, too weak to resist the power of the dawn.
"Oh mein Gott!" Klink's voice was shrill with panic as he grabbed the white scarf from around his neck. He tore the jumper that Newkirk wore at the collar with one tug and covered as much of the bite with the scarf as he could, pressing down with trembling fingers.
Schultz stuck his arm and part of his head into the room, holding a trauma kit from the infirmary, ready to flee at a moment's notice. Spezielle Verwendung was spelled out on its side. "Is it safe? Are you yourself again?"
"Yes I'm me again." Klink snarled. "It's safe. No thanks to you dumkoff." He put a hand out. "Blood! Quickly! Don't worry about the needle, we don't have time."
Schultz pulled out a unit of blood and handed to the Kommendant. Klink ripped it open and began to pour it on the wounds themselves. "I am sorry Kommendant. Alder would have killed me."
"I nearly killed him!" Klink shouted. "You could have done something. You know the blood rations have been too low."
"Kommendant, either Alder would have killed me or I would have killed him. Newkirk had the best chance."
Colonel Hogan managed to right himself, a little worse for the wear for having landed mostly on his head. The last few moments were a dizzy swirl of screams, snarling, exploding doors and Schultz sounding far too serious. He shook his head to assist in his brain's journey from the valley of confusion. A second later, he wished that the valley was where he stayed.
The wolf was gone, leaving only Klink, Schultz, Hogan and Newkirk, who was lying on his back doing his best to bleed to death, his blue sweater turning purple.
"Newkirk!" His voice cracked with adrenaline and fear. Hogan moved to join Klink by his man's side, slidding over the desk, scattering paperwork. Panic like ice froze his veins. He nearly made it.
"Schultz grab him!" Klink ordered sharply, no sign of his normal bearing on his face. His features were cold. "Newkirk wouldn't forgive himself if something happened to Hogan. He would never forgive me."
"Jawol Herr Kommendant." Schultz grabbed Hogan's arm with surprising strength and pulled him away from the pair on the floor. "He is right Colonel Hogan. Newkirk might hurt you and he would not forgive himself."
"What is going on Schultz? How could he hurt me? Why would he hurt me?" Hogan's head was spinning. Seldom in his life had he felt so out of his depth.
"Not on purpose Colonel Hogan. Never on purpose."
"Schultz please..."
Schultz pulled him farther towards Klink's office. "You want the straight answer?" The reversal from the normal situation was too severe to help Hogan's dizziness.
"Yes."
Schultz smirked, a sad kind of smirk. "Der Oberst ist ein Werwolf und der Korporal ist ein Vampir."
Hogan's spoken German wasn't very good but he understood it fine...but what Schultz said was impossible. Werewolf? Vampire? "
"Can I get that straight answer in English?" He tried to twist away from Schultz but the grip that held him was gentle but immovable.
Schultz winked at Hogan. "I think Colonel Hogan, that you know what I said."
"Yeah. I just really wish I hadn't. How long? How?" His mind swam with impossible reality. The image of the wolf, the knowing look on Schultz's face, just how fast Newkirk moved to shove him away from from the dog...
"Don't worry so much Colonel. Newkirk will be alright in the long run. We will get him some blood.In a few days he will be fine and his biggest problem will be...well you. He really didn't want you to find out."
Vampire...
Klink interrupted. "Dummer Bär! We need to get him someplace where there aren't humans everywhere. If he comes to he may be dangerous." He pressed the scarf tightly around Newkirk's wound, tangling it in the ruined remains of the Englishman's jumper.
Humans... Words echoed in Hogan's head, formless words he had to force his mind to latch onto. He hoped, knowing better, to wake up on the floor in a few minutes or back in his bunk.
"Schultz we need more blood. Get a medic and some volunteers, tell them Newkirk was attacked by one of the dogs." Klink lifted Newkirk as if he weighed nothing, blood staining his hands and the sleeves of his uniform. "I'll take him to the cooler. We won't have time to clean the wesen but he will have to deal with it. Better confused than dead."
Hogan watched Klink walk away, feeling unsteady. "Schultz I would really like all of this to make sense."
"It won't Colonel. At least not until it's too late." Schultz patted him on the back. " You'll volunteer to give blood ja?"
"I'm not the right type Schultz."
"He is Wer Blut braucht Colonel...Vampire. Blood type doesn't matter anymore."
End of Part One
Nevertheless, life and death are mysterious states, and we know little of the resources of either. - J. Sheridan Le Fanu, Carmilla