Author's Note: Oh dear… my update times are getting longer, aren't they? *slaps own wrist* Ow… gotta remember to keep up with all these projects if I insist on starting them. Ahem… on with BTLOTM, 'eh? Oh yes, shout outs… here we go.
Graymoon74: Save the werewolf Sawyer…? Oh… are they now? : )
Sethoz: I'm not trying to kill you, no, nor am I trying to give you a heart attack… cuz that would be bad… very bad. Then what would happen to your stories? Where would we turn for your dose of the angst, huh? HUH?! Okay, I'm calm. Hehehehe! Pluto… so funny, yet so simple.
LotRseer3350: You… you want me to kill Anise? Aw, that's not very nice. I'm sure she'll be offended… lol. I know, you're only kidding… I think.
Raven Silvers: *is rather shaken* Wow… look at all the pretty stars…
Beck2: Victims of tragic circumstance… you know what? That's a cool sentence. Loved that. How sad… I'm reviewing a freakin' review!
Melanie: We've already had that part ; ) It was way back when… when Tom and Anise were kissing and fell on his bed.
But enough of that, 'eh? On with the show!
Groaning loudly, he rolled over from his back, and winced at the harsh light overhead, before hearing a familiar voice whisper his name next to him. He forced his dark eyes open, and came face to face with a concerned Anise Delacroix. Dmitri narrowed his eyes, and then quickly pounced to his feet, alert as he could be after just regaining consciousness. A growl slipped from him instinctively, and he turned quickly this way and that… before coming to the conclusion the cage was rather solid, and the gunmen were packing 'special' ammunition. He snarled at them, glaring coldly, before Anise touched a hand to his shoulder, also having risen from the floor.
"Dmitri," she said carefully, calling his attention to her. He saw the sadness in her eyes, and furrowed his brow, before glancing around once more, his heart skipping a huge beat and almost springing from his chest into his throat.
"Lei…"
Anise shook her head sorrowfully, her hair cast into disarray as she whispered, "She's gone. They killed her."
Dmitri closed his eyes, sighing heavily in mourning for Lei, and then remembered their situation. He guessed this was a result of the short battle they had undergone with the three werewolves they had believed to originate from America initially… Dmitri remembered only a small amount of such, and guessed he had been rendered unconscious somehow, though he could not recall how. It mattered little now… all they had to focus on was escaping from the small cell, and fast. Dmitri had a fair idea as to the reason for their incarceration, especially when he saw the restraint frame set up in the centre of the room, unused now.
"Sawyer?"
Anise looked away for a moment, and when their eyes met again, she drew in a shuddering breath as she replied, "He was captured. They drugged him… and… I do not know what it was, but he is not Tom Sawyer anymore."
"What do you mean?" He touched a hand to her shoulder, even as he heard the guards whispering. He rolled his eyes discreetly, knowing they thought themselves subtle, but he heard every word. He knew what they wished to do, and he knew – if they attempted such action – that they would fail… miserably.
"The leader of this organisation started to call him Exuro, and Tom… he responded. He was so cold, and… I did not recognise him anymore." The tone in her voice clearly illustrated her point, even if she could not put it into words for herself. He ran his large hand over her arm, in what he hoped was a comforting action, and nodded sorrowfully.
He already missed Lei and her inner fire. If she were here, she would have been launching herself at the bars. Which was when he realised something, and turned his head to Anise, saying, "Why have you not transformed and attempted escape?"
"I have," she told him, and sighed heavily. "The first time I tried, I realised I could not, because they had drugged us with something that suppressed the change, and the second… well, it turns out the guards were not fond of the idea, and threatened to shoot me… or Tom."
"I see…" Dmitri nodded again, unsure of what to do, until he smelt a familiar – though not overly so – scent outside the door, and despite himself, a smile slipped onto his face, even as he realised the identity.
Exuro roared as he launched himself through the air towards the man who was threatening him with the large, rather imposing weapon, which clicked in an affirming manner as it loaded loudly. He knew he should have recognised the man, but that was far from his list of priorities… which, so far, comprised of find the intruders, and kill them all… horribly.
The first on his makeshift mental list was this man, who raised his weapon even higher, even as the lycanthrope bellowed again, large ears flattening back against his broad skull, teeth bared threateningly, eyes flashing a feral silver like a liquid metal as they caught the low light.
And then the huge weapon fired, a gigantic harpoon rocketing out of the barrel of the gun, shooting towards Exuro, even as he careened towards the man on the firing end. It drew closer and closer, and the werewolf tried to angle his body enough for it to miss him, twisting slightly and attempting to clear it altogether, giving a loud pained yelp of a noise when it grazed his right side, drawing thick, oozing blood.
He fell short of his target, panting and growling, crimson blood soaking into his fur from the wound, and he lifted his jowls in an angry snarl at the offender. His ears were flat back against his head, and his eyes were barely more than infuriated, silver slits of pure rage, saliva dripping ruthlessly from his fangs, as they parted a little, his large black claws digging as much as possible into the hard ground beneath him and dragging up small pieces of the flooring. His hackles bristled dangerously, and he advanced one step, feeling the wound begin to heal in his side already.
"I would not advance any further if I were you, Agent Sawyer."
Exuro froze, the name calling up some inner recollection from deep inside his being, and causing everything – including time, it seemed – to stop at once. He glared, the growl dying away for a moment as part of the cloud in his head cleared for a moment; long enough for him to listen to the irritating man persist.
"You and I are associates, though you seem not to recall my face, or my name, or you would not attack me as you have attempted. Something has been forced upon you, and it is not by your own choice that you are acting so volatile. I advise that you desist, and allow us to help you to regain what has been taken."
Something is wrong here… but I cannot figure out which part of it… Exuro growled, irritated by the confusion, and slinked back into the shadows, stepping cautiously over what remained of his kill, before turning down one of the adjoining corridors from which he had previously ambushed, and fled, trying to fathom what was happening to him. As he slowed, he reared up onto two legs, and forced his human side to emerge, before heading to where he had left his attire, without hesitation, eyes blazing with intent, still silver for a moment longer before melting into a cool green, and he smiled cruelly as another familiar – yet somehow enticing – scent filled him.
Mina could smell him… he was here. But the most confusing part of the whole situation was that he was in motion… why was he moving? If he had been captured – as they suspected – then why was he roaming the –
A sudden thought stopped her in her unnecessary musing, and she sighed regretfully. Tom had been brainwashed, it seemed, and was now operating under Government influence, not his own. And with his new abilities, he was more than a little dangerous. She started to cast her reddening eyes about in the darkness, waiting for him to appear from around any of the lurking corners.
She had a dreadful feeling he would come after her, since her scent was more individual than the others, even Hyde, who had a rather powerful odour. She made a mental note never to tell Mr. Hyde that for herself, and reminded herself to watch her back for any signs of possible ambush. From their encounter in Paris after Tom's first transformation, she wasn't entirely confident that she could handle him… especially if he chose to attack in lycanthropic form.
Which was when she smelt the frightfully close scent… heard the low growl, and saw the slight glint of silver in the looming darkness.
The alpha pair growled in perfect unison as they paced, their eyes – yellow and black respectively – searched the wanly lit areas they passed for any potential victims or prey. The two were soaked around the muzzles and paws with the blood of the Indian crewmen, and they revelled in each new slaughter. Now all they needed was a challenge. Then, the two lifted their heads simultaneously. They grinned lupine grins as they realised they had found just what they were looking for, and started forward in an eager yet lolling gait towards the next junction, where a large central room split off into the different corridors that led to varying areas in the complex.
When they reached the junction, their growls intensified at the sight of a familiar foe, one Gladius recognised mostly from the recollection of the burning pain in his ribcage that flared up at the hulking mass in front of him. He remembered how he had been barrelled aside as though he weighed next to nothing, and his ears lowered threateningly, the grey hair along his shoulders and spine bristling and rising as his hackles came into life.
Falx arched her spine, and flexed her claws in a challenge, canine head twisting in a silent goading motion, daring the large… thing to come forward and attack them. They were curious as to what would happen if he simply sustained a scratch or bite… would he change, or would the wound cause his physiology to rage out of control?
The two were determined to find out… being notoriously curious… not to mention cruel.
Little did Skinner know that he had picked up a less than inanimate shadow, one with flashing yellow eyes, and sharp claws, dagger-like teeth and the full intent of using said teeth to rip out the invisible man's throat. Lacertus trailed dangerously close, unbeknownst to the thief, who was trying to find Sawyer and the others, possibly to free them. He still wished he had a gun, but he hoped his lack of visibility would help give him an edge.
Lacertus resisted giving a low chuckle at the man, even as he approached a door, and the werewolf froze. All be damned, he had found the incarceration room! He didn't know how, but he knew he had to stop him.
Growling, he noticed – using his heightened sense of sight to pick out the heat outline of the man, as well as smelling him – the man hesitated entirely, before turning his head over his shoulder with a grumbled curse.
The large lycanthropic shape burst forth, roaring like an enraged dragon as its eyes flared like fire, his maw wide and ready to snap closed on the closest part of the body he was aiming for. What he didn't expect was for the man to duck under the form, allowing it to slam fully into the door he had been trying to open, thus smashing it apart for him. Lacertus followed through with the bodily force applied to the crash, and rolled to a messy halt on the floor, shaking his head even as the invisible man jogged in past him. A few bullets erupted from the guards' guns, and Lacertus turned his head with a gruff bellow, noticing they cut off their attack immediately, and even retreated a little way.
An angry werewolf was not a favourable opponent, they knew. They backed away, but in his blinded rage, he surged forward and rammed the closest man to the ground, tearing into him with savage force and practically ripping his head from his shoulders, growling all the while and decorating the ground around him with sprayed blood.
With parts of his prey still dripping and hanging from his jaws, he glanced eerily to the other guards, who deemed it wise to retreat from the room entirely. Some cried out in terror, and Lacertus moved to give chase, but something kept him firmly rooted. His feet would not obey, and before long, he roared aloud, his skull threatening to tear apart for no understandable reason. His maw spread wide in a pained wail, and he almost lost stability in his knees, nearly dropping to the floor in pain. Another roar reverberated around the room, even as he closed his eyes, and let it turn into an agonised howl, mingled with confusion.
"O… kay," Skinner mumbled, before remembering his task and quickly going about trying to pick the lock on the solid cage that was holding Anise and Dmitri… no Sawyer, he noticed with a heavy heart. The frame in the room looked like some sort of restraining device, and that did nothing to lift his spirits. "Sodding hell, come on!" he grumbled at the lock, and heard it click in an affirming manner to the open position. "Aha! I knew I still had it in me!"
Dmitri and Anise moved to the front of the cage, and pushed through the door, almost unbalancing Skinner without even realising it seemed. "A thank you would be nice," he huffed, surprised when Anise took a hold of his face directly and planted a kiss on his cheek without hesitation. "Well," he coughed, embarrassed, "didn't see that one coming."
"Ironic," Anise commented, and began to pace cautiously towards the oddly behaving werewolf in the middle of the room. He was writhing in obvious pain or discomfort, and wailing unceremoniously, though there were no clear wounds anywhere on his vast body. That was when his hindquarters gave out on him. His lower body collapsed to the ground with a dull thud, and his forelimbs seemingly strained to keep him upright. He began to tremble, as though cold, even though the temperature in the room was rather comfortable… even to the invisible thief. He cocked his head at the display, and raised both eyebrows in disbelief, even as the creature began to eerily twist and contort, seemingly without inner control. Random parts of his body reshaped and then snapped back into lupine form, before they all began to work in unison to return him to what he should have been.
Anise, Dmitri and Skinner watched in an odd combination of horror and fascination as the werewolf receded in bursts, and the human form collapsed almost completely to the cold ground below him, panting and gasping, in obvious agony, groaning loudly and screwing his eyes shut. A tousled mop of black hair had sprung out from his head in place of the brown matted fur, and Skinner was oddly reminded of Sawyer. The clear locks were hanging in complete disarray, and then the eyes opened, suddenly, wide and alarmed as he cast them about himself to try and identify his surroundings.
Okay… why do I get the feeling that isn't normal? Skinner, despite his better judgement, moved forward as well, even as Dmitri approached the figure swifter. He was soon crouched down near to him, and trying to make eye contact. Brown eyes lifted from the ground, shining with tears as he gasped out, "What's going on?" His accent was crisp and American, but there was a clear tone of fear – no, terror – hidden within, making his voice waver awfully. He cast a glance to the other two fleetingly, and trembled once again, obviously confused beyond the point of reason.
Dmitri glanced to Anise, and cast his eyes over in the general direction of Skinner, saying, "It would appear that the drug has worn off."
Anise sighed in relief, and Skinner glanced quickly back at her in what would have been called a double take.
"I beg your pardon? Would someone mind explaining?"