Christ… what did I just allow? Did I let loose evil or did it just convince me that something was ok when it wasn't? Fuck it, you decide. Here's what happened.

I was doing a routine check of an area where there was a reported sighting of armed people with up to date weaponry. They called me because four raids had taken place, and all they found were the weapons. Now that people were reported, they needed me to confirm them.

I've just fought in the nastiest fucking war of my life, and now I was back to routine checkups on ditches and warehouses. Well, I found someone.

He had long black hair, black leather down coat with mild scuffs and rips, black jean pants, and black boots. He was as pale as an ignored corpse, and looked like he had been chasing an imaginary tramp through a dry sewer. He turned slowly and faced me. It was something that I didn't like seeing. It was a Reaper Clone.

Besides the fact that Reaper Clones are copies of me that are meant specifically to kill me, this guy was different. Something had to have been done with him. He had an MP7 with a suppressor and a reflex sight on, with the stock halfway extended. I aimed my Five-seveN at his head and told him to set the weapon down. He just grinned at me. Something was really wrong with this guy.

"You see Colonel," he said to me with a voice of something out of a strange movie, "I'm improved. Albeit against my will, I am the one who will end the legend of the LoneWolf, numbered six two seven nine…"
"What the fuck did they do to you?" I interrupted.
"They improved me." He bared his teeth at me, exposing exactly what had been done to him. "They found themselves an original vampire from a closet. They let it feed on me, but it left me alive. The virus made me stronger than the already powerful god that I am."

Never before had I heard of a clone referring to himself as a god. Not even the faction leaders called themselves gods. They might have considered themselves right, but never did they speak this highly of themselves. This was probably the worst guy I would ever have to kill. I was up for the shit of it right then.

"I'll never let you leave here alive." As much as I'd like to take credit for that, I didn't say it. A woman emerged from a tunnel, furious and rage stricken. She had black wings with very smooth feathers and red glowing eyes. "Lieutenant Colonel Kramer, LoneWolf Operative and enemy of many factions, including the High Sphere, Green Blade and Rodian Ratal; is this you?"

I was worried now. I had never fought a vampire before, and now I was being stared down by two of them. One was a Reaper Clone of me, and one was a beautiful woman that I would likely get distracted by. Now I was unsure of things.

"You will not be participating in this fight," she said to me, "I was raped of my power when they put him in front of me. They knew I'd feed on the first thing I saw when they released me." Oh shit, now I wanna kill someone. "They used a strange device on me to prevent me from finishing him, and now this abomination is alive and I will not allow it." I kept my weapon aimed at the clones head, and even 

turned on the laser sight that I had. "Michael," she said to me with a voice that soothed me against my will, "his life is mine to take, I must do this." For some strange reason, I felt two things. I first felt the urge to fire on her for manipulating me. I also felt another urge, but it wasn't an urge. It was an instinct that told me to keep myself ready to fire on this guy.

They made their moved against each other. He raised his weapon and I fired mine. I hit his arm three times, knocking the PDW out of his hand. The real vampire moved swiftly to attack him, clawing his face. I stood back and prepared to fire only if I had to.

They moved very fast, maybe about as fast as I've moved before. I knew something wasn't going to go well. My intuition was rewarded when he drew a knife and threw it in my direction. I barely had the moving room or the time to evade the blade. Thankfully I moved just fast enough not to even get grazed. The two fought on, when finally the woman drew a wooden stake and tried to stab his heart. I guess the old rumors were true.

The Clone managed to evade the stab, but she was not as fortunate. He managed to break her knee and strike her head. I fired two rounds at his forehead to keep her alive. He staggered heavily, but the 5.7mm SS190 rounds didn't do enough to make me happy. I decided that I would end it my way. I was going to participate.

I drew my knife and prepared to use my favorite form against him. He leaped toward me, though I was quick enough to fire one more round into the top of his jaw and cut his throat with my knife, using his own momentum against him. For him, this was not fatal. Had I been fighting a mortal, he would have been dead a few times over. I figured that I would likely be able to fuck him up enough to reduce him to a bleeding pulp and find a way to properly destroy his body.

I struck his head twice before he punched me in the chest. I was wearing my special armor, which was made for guys of my profession. It absorbed the shock, but it still knocked me down a little. I didn't stumble enough for him to get an edge on me, but it was enough to make me unhappy. I fired three more rounds at him, which kept him from advancing forward on me. He then had a shock expression on his face, before falling dead. The woman had healed up and killed him.

"I know there is no honor in that," she said, "but had you not been there, I would be dead." She moved forward to approach me, but I kept my gun on her.

"I know how vampires heal, if the books I read long ago were correct." I said to her. She stopped, and shed a tear.

"I was only going to thank you. You're a rotten paranoid bastard." This didn't affect my judgment, because I still kept that gun aimed right for her eyes. I had only fired 9 rounds or so, but this gun holds 20 in a standard mag. I had a minimum of 11 rounds to use getting away if she freaked out on me.

"How did you know my first name?" I asked her. As I asked her this, she rushed me. I fired one round before she had me on my back, aiming the gun at my head, and holding my knife to my chest.



"You were the eye toy of a victim of mine," she said to me. "I didn't want to hurt her, but the bitch kept bugging me, asking 'what's wrong dear, what's ailing you?' that harlot little scamp was begging to die."

"Who in the fuck are you talking about?" I asked her.

"Her name was Alice." I had no memory of her, but when I stopped thinking, she got up and left. She dropped my gun and knife for me, as she vanished into the shadow. "I'll take care of you, wherever you go."

That thought worried me.