Dr Martin Brenner was a man of many things, some may call him a monster for the things that he had done, the things he was doing and the things that he had yet to do, some may call him a genius for his progression in his official field of Energy. But in the harsh reality of the world His work on Genetics, Genome analysis and Genetic manipulation was unparalleled. And there were some who called him insane for messing with things that ought not to be messed with.

One of those things was sitting in the tank in front of Brenner, the murky contents of the liquid kept its occupant obscured from view of the outside world expect for patches of grey leathery skin that would poke through, Brenner looked on with narrowed eyes at his desecration of nature and the rape of what was the natural world.

It was an unnatural abomination, disgusting and wretched. A monster designed with the sole purpose to kill anything that was to get in its way with deadly precision and a bloodlust rivalled by no other in the natural world. Brenner's mouth curled slightly looking at this other worldly thing, his monster was close to being fully complete.

Brenner leapt back from the tank as a clawed hand smashed against the glass, scraping down the interior as it tried to rake at Brenner, who it saw as an intruder in its midst, although fascinated by its instincts and behavioural traits Brenner proceeded to press a button upon the console in front of him, the creature within howled with excruciating agony as millions of volts of electricity were sent coursing through its body without pause, without relent, without mercy.

Neither man or monster understood the concept of such a thing.

Eventually the thing withdraw its hand back into the murky depths of the tank. Brenner finally let the creature know rest by withdrawing his hand from the console. The monster that lay within moved no more at least for the time being. The glass was scratched, the marks were spine chilling, evidence of a beast that could and would not be contained.

"My, my, Dr Brenner, remind me never to leave one of my hounds with you" Crowley chuckled eyeing the tank having witnessed the display of brutality brought forth by Brenner's hand. Brenner's mouth curved in satisfaction.

"I just thought I would stop by and see if our terms have been honoured" Crowley narrowed his eyes slightly at Brenner, the look was enough to even unnerve the ageing doctor.

"Yes, of course, I would expect nothing less" Brenner began, moving closer to the demon. "The British Men of Letters have agreed to leave Demon kind alone in the UK, we only managed to secure the deal by uhhhhh well lets just say releasing several of their assets back into their hands" Brenner said, his smile cold and his eyes were like the howling void.

Crowley huffed positively with a satisfied small smile "Good. Hell will always be willing to talk business in the future Mr. Brenner, good day to you"

Brenner didn't even bother to look back as Crowley vanished from the room without a trace, he finally got what he needed to further his goals, knowledge that he would not have been able to acquire otherwise if it wasn't for the demon in their midst.

Ever since he was young it was always about the mission. He had been there when American after American was being mowed down by relentless machine gun fire, it had been like going through a meat grinder. For his enemy had been the Germans, then it was Japanese but the worst enemy of all revealed themselves as an Iron Curtain fell across Europe. That day Brenner swore that America would never fall to the disgusting stench that was Communism. Even at the age of twenty one as the Second World War ended he vowed that he would do anything in his power to make sure that would never happen.

It was an oath that led him here. Led him to this place. On the cusp of realizing his dream, his goal, his ambition and his consuming need to defeat communism and the filth that ruled over them. One Day, one day American soldiers would march victoriously through the Red Square. Hoisting the stars and stripes over the land.

In the end to him the ends would always justify the means, no matter what those means ended up being, whether it was MKUltra, The Eleventh Hour Project or this, the melding of man and monster. Something so inherently chaotic. The Destructiveness of Man and the Savagery of a Monster. To be moulded like clay in his more than capable hands.

"Dr. Brenner...sir?"

Brenner was brought out from his inner monologue to see one of the much younger Lab technicians staring at him expectantly. The kid could not have been much older than twenty years of age.

"Yes, what is it Lawson?"

"We're Ready"

"Very well, let us proceed then" Brenner said leading the way into the room where the Tank with it's sole occupant sat. Military Police stood against every wall ever watchful as the monster's unconscious form was taken from the gestation Tank and laid upon an operating table, Brenner watched as the Technicians looked at each other, only their eyes visible as they looked for the brave one among them to start the process of grafting machinery into the monsters head.

The subtle cock of a weapon was heard in the room, the lab techs sprung into action with the small and not so subtle motivator, they began to sear a machine into flesh as they made careful and steady progress. It was a curved device, it was able to curve from one side of the head to the other. It was the culmination of the MKUltra and The Eleventh Hour experiments and of the lives that had been lost in the pursuit of the power and the knowledge to control that power, something that they now possessed.

Brenner allowed himself to dream once more.

Dream of the future.

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Hopper was Confused.

He had searched the spot from top to bottom for the bodies that Mike had claimed were there, the place was completely clear of any body or bodies. But Hopper knew when there was a fox in his hen house and he was getting that feeling right now, something didn't sit right with him since the moment that he got there. The first thing he noticed was the total stillness of the world around him. There was no wind and there wasnt even the comforting sound of the birds.

It was deathly quiet.

Hopper's thoughts wandered to Mike, Hopper was pretty sure of what was sitting upon Mike's arm. The Mark of Cain as far as Hopper knew was the curse placed upon Cain by God where he would wander the Earth forever. Hopper simply could not fathom how Mike had the mark or how Mike had the fabled weapon that Cain had used to murder his brother.

None of it made sense to him and he doubted that it would anytime soon for that matter. As Hopper mused over this something happened to catch his eye. A speck of blood was splattered onto a tree, it's bark slightly withered which Hopper noted was now the first signs that a struggle had actually taken place, he moved closer to it whereupon he shined his flashlight upon it.

It hissed as the light made contact with it and Hopper watched with amazement as the blood started to bubble and turn into steam, Hopper hastily turned the flash light off in a futile attempt to stop the only piece of evidence from vanishing into thin air and he could do nothing but watch as this happened.

"Son of a bitch" he muttered in frustration running a hand through his hair which he sure was starting to go grey with sheer stress.

He looked up and placed the light back into his belt. Before carefully walking around the site to try and find more evidence, evidence of any sort would have been sufficient, a chill went down his spine at the sudden realization that the place was too clean, clinically clean, save for that one spot Hopper found, his blood ran cold and he realised the Lab was still very much active.

A twig snapped behind him and Hopper spun round, withdrawing his revolver from its holster and drawing it to eye level all in the same moment.

Only to see nothing, the air around him was deathly quiet save for the nervous breathing of the ageing Police Chief. Still there was nothing as he waited with baited breath. His eyes sweeping the Forrest in front of him, he lowered his weapon after what seemed like a lifetime, forcing himself to chuckle at how paranoid he seemed to be. But there was that nagging thought in the back of his mind, that warriors instinct that had served him well in the past, he had been in Vietnam when all you had was your senses and gut instinct. Something that had saved him countless times in the past.

Unfortunately that Warrior instinct as right as it was would not save him in this moment. For it was above and beyond anything that Hopper could hope to win against.

And from the Veil of Darkness like an emerging shadow they appeared.

Hopper's eyes widened as the figure took its first steps out of the shadow of the tree. Completely covered in black fabric from head to toe. It's black boots were completely featureless with no visible laces or straps. It's cowl obscured the top of it's head where a cape flowed down its body that split in half halfway down. It wore gloves made of black leather, not a single bit of skin was visible save for the chin and mouth revealing they were human. However, where it's jaw should have been sat only a mask, painted white to look like a ferocious and monstrous yet human shaped skull. Only the actual flesh of the person stood in place of where the jawbone should have been. It's hands were lax at their side. Fingers flexed back and forth as they regarded Hopper with almost curios like posture.

It began to take deliberate and calculated steps towards Hopper who responded in kind by opening fire. Letting loose with a barrage of as many rounds as he could fire. Its hand flew up blindingly fast, impossibly fast. Hopper could do nothing but watch in horror as the bullets hit thin air, there was a slight shimmer in the air every time a bullet was stopped dead in its tracks. It turned its hand over palm side up, each bullet was squashed inward upon itself as it floated the rounds into it's waiting hand.

The figure regarded them with dispassionate interest before letting them slowly tumble into the dirt, making sure that Hopper watched this display of power, Hopper nevertheless was already reloading his revolver. He was only three bullets in before the figure thrust its palm forward. With a flick of its wrist the weapon was flung from the Chief's fingers. Leaving him to the mercy of the Entity.

Hopper would not run, he would not beg and he would not Surrender. He stared down at the figure defiantly as it regarded him, the only window into it's emotion was it's mouth which hadn't strayed from the apathy that had been on display during the entire encounter.

Its hand slowly flexed its fingers and Hopper felt himself being lifted off the ground, he began to levitate towards the figure, Hopper was utterly powerless and even in the deepest, darkest corners of his mind he felt fear, not just for himself but also for Eleven, his adopted daughter and of what would happen to her if he was no longer there.

It was this fear, this determination, this sheer strength of will that Hopper found the strength to fight back against this power that was holding him aloft, to fight this very human yet inhuman thing, his mind screamed at the figure before him and its power began to wane and Hopper felt himself tumble to the floor. He bolted to his feet in amazement and made a dash for the weapon that had been discarded mere moments before. He scrambled towards it, he turned, weapon in hand and was ready to pull the trigger but the figure was already upon him and with a sheer force of strength it forced the gun into the air where Hopper involuntarily fired off a shot into the birdless sky. His shout of pain echoed along with the shot.

It flung it's free hand at Hopper who found himself pinned to the tree by this thing's power. It raised its other hand, underneath even the black leather of the glove there was this unmistakeable orange glow emanating from the palm of this being. The weapon in Hopper's hand began to become unbearably hot as it too glowed red hot and the Chief was forced to let his faithful weapon fall pathetically to the floor was a dull thud. The Weapon was beyond melted to the point where it began effectively liquid metal

The figure leaned In with a final trace of emotion upon what was the only visible part of it's face. It's mouth curved ever so slightly upwards in sadistic joy.

"That was amusing" its voice was that of a coarse and hoarse whisper yet there was power laced within it's words and a sadism that even Hopper had never had the misfortune to know up until this point in his life. And it was the last thought in his mind as the nameless figure reached with two fingers and pressed them to Hopper's sweaty forehead, the irresistible lull of sleep called to him and he felt himself surrendering to it's song but not before he caught the last words of the figure beforehand.

"and yet there is more to come"

and with that Hopper fell from the waking world.

(A/N) I have had trouble with motivation in writing this story as it seems less popular than my other stories along with the lack of reviews/interest, but nevertheless I will see this through to the end for the ones who are reading, I have put this off for far to long which Is no-one fault but my own. The plot has been fully figured out with some great twists to come which I look forward to exploring.

I haven't abandoned this story nor will I in the future.

When this story is over I shall be proceeding with a AU World War II story idea which I also look forward to writing in the near future.

As always guys review! And until next time, peace!