Chapter 2: Filthy Streets of Today

Al's Diner Front

New York City, New York

"Get outta here, ya circus freak! And don't you ever come back here no more!" A greasy, obese, middle-aged man with a nearly bald head stood at the front of the run-down diner with a spatula in one hand and a tight fist in the other continued to scream and shout as a young, humanoid woman continued to scurry down the opposite side of the street with no sense of listening to such a greedy, inconsiderate man like him. After trying out the diner as a minor waitress in the business, the over-weight owner of the restaurant, Allan, decided to abruptly cut off her pay because he claimed that her strange, unusual appearance scared the customers away. After all, she was a black-furred cat woman. The annoying raves and malicious, unforgivable taunts made her brain rave mad with the thoughts of slashing the man's vocal chords out. Finally, after a full five minutes of hearing the awful gibberish and senseless rubbish, Tandra decided that it was time that she made her own move. She turned around to face the diner's owner, her ears flattened against her head and her beautiful face curled into a dangerous snarl.

"Look here, pal," she spat out in a rebellious tone. "I only came here to work so I can put bread on the table, not get pushed around by a guy who only sits on his lazy butt all day, countin' all the money that he gets just for doin' nothin'! If I can't work here, then fine, I'll leave! Your diner is horrible and disgusting, anyways! It'll probably go outta business soon." Leaving the man to curse under his own breath, the cat woman strutted off with hidden relief as she began to pull one of her arms through the sleeves of her long, beige overcoat. Tandra sighed as she looked at her two, oversized, black paws. They were large, furry, and clawed; something that humans would normally think as awkward or just plain freaky.

It was also a daily routine when humans took the time to take a small glance and question about her partially furry body, her two large, pointed ears, or her long, black tail. It was quite painful to take insults from those who were considered "normal" by certain standards, but then again, what did they know? They weren't the ones constantly hiding away from abusive pet owners, rabid dogs, or hell-bent religious fanatics. As Tandra buttoned her overcoat, she sniffed the midnight breeze and looked up at the pitch black sky. A single drop of water landed on the tip of her nose, and she wiped it off with a grumpy look on her face.

"Damn, it's going to rain," she grumbled to herself as she hurried to the other side of the busy sidewalk. Sure enough, dark gray clouds began to cover the whole entire sky, and raindrops began to pour onto the streets of New York City like an over-pressured sprinkler. Tandra ran for cover towards a nearby apartment building that she was forced to call home, but it didn't stop her from getting sopping wet from the unstoppable downpour. As she entered the run-down brick building, she asked for her room key, and headed upstairs with an unpleasant look upon her face. "I hate water so much…"

"And for tonight's special news report…is the "Darkstalker" threat still at large? Countless murders, strange, unexplainable events occurring at impossible moments, and sightings of inhuman-like creatures make their way from all across the world, including the United States as well. Is humanity ready to take in these new "visitors" from another world, or is it calling for another world war? More after these commercial breaks."

"My God, how long is it gonna take before Tandra gets here? I'm starving."

"I don't, she should've been here by now." Suddenly, the two other cat women heard the door click and creak open, and they watched as their sister, Tandra, arrived with a grim face and matted fur, due to the weather conditions outside. She tossed her raincoat onto a nearby coat rack, and headed directly towards the kitchen, hiding her face from the rest of her two sisters. "So, um…Tandra how was your day? Were you able to bring home any food?" one of them asked.

"Yeah, did you bring anything home, sis?" Tandra, who was currently searching through the cabinets for a bowl to fix herself some leftovers from last night, sighed and grumbled something incoherent under her breath. She looked over her shoulder to see that of them were still watching television for some apparent reason.

"No…the manager at Al's diner fired me just because he said that my looks were scarin' the customers. Sheesh, what a loser." Her siblings only groaned, and they resumed their TV watching in the small living room. "For once, can't you guys just make somethin' out of the leftovers? You know I can't keep providin' everyone like this." Sighing to herself, Tandra sat down at the round table and slowly began to eat her warmed-up lasagna. Tigra and Leona were, like her, cat women themselves, but they were also her sisters as well. As her name defined it, Tigra was a tiger-like in every aspect of her body, from the orange and white patches of fur upon her, all the way down to the multiple strips that adorned her face, limbs, and torso. Her cropped, black hair and enticing golden-brown eyes didn't fool her, however; Tandra already knew that her sister was always busy-bodied and self centered on their previous ways of life.

Leona, on the other hand, was of course, a lioness-cat woman with golden fur, dark skin, and brown, springy curls, but she definitely put the term "lazy lion" into reality. She was rather exhausted and a bit lazy most of the time, and she mostly depended on others to do her assigned work. Either way, both of them were the only family she had left in this cold, miserable world, so there was nothing she could do about it, but to ignore her sisters' pleas and keep at her own business. "Quiet Leona, the news' back on," Tigra sternly said as she turned up the TV's volume.

"Miraculous happenings unexplainable to most, frightening horror stories from folklore, and creatures said only to exist in the woven fabrics of mythology…all of these things were once revered as cleverly plotted out tales by ancient civilizations to explain a world never fully understood," the anchorman said in a intelligent, but grave serious tone. "Nowadays, in the modern world, the study of science and technology has replaced old, unsteady theories of the ancient world with accurate, more understandable volumes of knowledge and research. However, as some scholars believe, the return of beings known only in the books as "Darkstakers" have returned into our world of today. Is this whole entire mass hysteria only a scam to cause world chaos, or is this an omen of major destruction?" The next scene immediately began to show clips of unspeakable murders, rioters, and other shocking events, which made the two women very anxious to see what was up ahead.

"Strange sightings and acts of violence, religious rioting and mysterious crimes. All of these, including more innumerable happenings have occurred since the early nineties, and it is now taking its toll upon the civilians of the United States. With the eruption of controversy and conflict going hand-in-hand with each other, many believe that this is the "consequence" of unwatched behavior and slips within the government system. However, others believe it to be the work of an unknown force only referred to "Darkstalkers" by experts and noteworthy citizens alike. With origins currently under dispute, most of America can agree that most of them are here to stay."

"You're damn right we are," Tandra hollered out from the kitchen. "…And we aren't leavin' either!"

"Lt. Seth Hawkins, 27, tells us on why these fellow groups wish to stay," the woman on the screen said in a monotone voice. The scene switched to a young man dressed in a somewhat militaristic fashion (black tactical vest, long-sleeved under shell, etc.). In his gloved hands, he carried a SPAS-12 tactical shotgun in a fierce, impending way, with his hazel green eyes coldly staring off to a certain angle, as if to avoid contact with the camera.

"Well, the B.A.S.E. believes that the "Darkstalkers" will become a threat to national security soon, so we have no other choice but to keep our eyes peeled for any suspicious activity," Seth firmly commented as he pushed some of his dark brown hair out of his sight. "As citizens of this nation, we must be extremely careful on who we let into our country…and who comes out of it as well." Before Tigra and Leona could react, Tandra switched the television off with the help of a remote control that her sisters subsequently forgot about.

"Hey, we were watching the news," Tigra angrily replied as she tried to reach for the remote. Tandra still held it high above her reach as she happily watched her sister's attempt to grab the item out of her paw.

"Why do you even want to watch that junk? All the news ever talks about are those stupid rumors about us." Leona laid back onto one of the couch's decorative pillows and sighed, thinking about some memory from the past.

"Don't you wish we were back in the good ol' days?" the cat woman exclaimed as she stretched out and placed her arms behind her head. "…When we used to live in fancy houses, and all that rich stuff…gosh, I miss that so much."

"Well, times change, and you know that," Tandra dryly commented as she tossed the remote back to the side. "Besides, we weren't treated as human beings…we were regarded only as exotic pets," she commented as she headed to her bedroom. "You guys need to head to bed, 'cuz I still need to look for a new job." Both of the sisters yawned and began to head to their rooms as night continued to fall around the whole entire city. Hopefully, it was going to be a better day tomorrow, even if it meant moving to another city, just to find a suitable job for all of three of them.

B.A.S.E. Central Headquarters

Washington D.C., USA

Dimmed lights, grim, grayish-blue hallways with multiple doors lined on either side of the hallways, and stiff, blacked-dressed guards standing tirelessly like wooden posts walking around the facility made the complex appear more to be a boring prison than an actual military base. The employees and soldiers, all talking softly under their own breaths, quickly moved out of the way and saluted the oncoming elite Captain Seth Hawkins, whose stern look topped the gaze of any onlooker foolish enough to look him straight in the eyes. Followed by two other black-suited guards, one of the employees, a young woman in beige formal wear tried to catch up with him, her clipboard clutched in her tight arms.

"Sir, I have very important news for you," the woman called out to him. Seth barely made a single reply to the given note, and he continued to walk down the hallway. "Please sir, listen to me. We've captured the woman that was previously stealing our corporation's data."

"Yeah, yeah, I already know that. Tell me something that I don't already have to look up for myself." With a wave of his hand, the young man directing his own men to open the door leading to the B.A.S.E.'s most depressing room of all…the interrogation room. Its steel sheet walls, flat, concrete floors, and single ceiling lamp seemed a bit too dramatic for Seth's likings, but it seemed to do the job once the criminals stepped in. Pulling up a metal chair, Seth scooted himself to the table in the middle of the room as the guards escorted the criminal into the room. Although he seemed to be the least bit surprised when she came in, on the inside, Seth felt very amused with her appearance, which wasn't the least bit unkempt.

The suspect's voluptuous figure accentuated her unspeakable beauty, which was anything but innocent. Her body was covered with a pinstripe, two-piece dress suit, its midnight-colored fabric matching her equally long and dark hair. A fancy fedora adorned her head, and medium-sized plumes stuck out from the band of it. As soon as she spotted the B.A.S.E. captain at the table, her shady green eyes squinted furiously at him, and her cherry-red lips curled into a thin frown. "Please, take a seat," Seth respectfully said as she stood amongst the large guards. She heeded his words, and she pulled up a chair herself to join him at his little game.

"Welcome back, Sylvia, or should I say, Shadowca."

"That's Sylvia to you, you corrupt, foul ingrate!" Sylvia angrily snapped back at him. "Where are my children?!" Seth nodded his head, and smiled to himself, placing his hand underneath his chin.

"Ah, now I see…the world's most relentless, unforgivable spy ever to walk the earth is looking for her own children? I thought that people like you wouldn't care for such a thing," Seth replied as he began to jot a few notes down on a nearby notepad. "Such a nuisance you are. You're always trying to find the best ways to get out of my grip." Sylvia crossed her legs, resting her head on one of her arms.

"God, you disgust me. I want to know where my children are. I haven't come all this way just to lose to your stupid organization."

"So you believed that you had such a right to investigate every last piece of confidential information stored in the B.A.S.E. with illegal authorization?" The woman only snorted at his question. The young man already knew that both of them were becoming impatient with their time.

"What does it matter to you? I didn't sell it off. I could've done so, but for your information, the man that hired you is a FREAK. I hate him, and I always will."

"Excuses, excuses, excuses," The captain said with a tsk as he shook his head in mock disappointment. "Philip Higgins has supplied this military organization with funds that no other corporation could provide. He wishes to keep our deal intact with one condition…he already knew that you were going to after him, so he enable a protection order for him and your two sons. If you are ever to lay a single hand on either him, or your sons, we'll have the right to take you away to place where you'll never see them ever again."

"Wha-…you can't be serious!" Without warning, Sylvia got up from her chair, and pounded her hands on the desk with a vicious snarl on her face, but the before she could strangle the neck of the young captain, two guards came right up from behind, and pointed their guns at her. Still defiant, Sylvia still stood as Seth began to take a rise from his own chair. "Do you expect me to leave my own two sons to that…that…that maniac?!"

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Hoffman, I really regret what I am currently doing, but as you should know, I'm not the one who makes the decisions. Take her away." And with no hesitation, the black-uniformed guards grabbed the poor woman by both arms, and dragged her out of the room. The woman struggled with all her might, but nothing came out of the ordeal. As soon as the trio left, Seth sat right back down in the chair, his hands folded right in front of him. One might think that a young man in his late twenties would have at least a little remorse for a woman like her, but it just wasn't the case. Thinly smiling to himself, the captain of B.A.S.E. shifted several of his desktop paperwork before another man walked in.

This time, it was a B.A.S.E. grunt, dressed in a grayish-black battle uniform complimented with the dangerously red and black, circular insignia engraved on his left armband. "Sir, testing of the prototype Deimos models are complete. The researchers are ready to ship them out, sir."

"Are some of the models already here?"

"Yes sir."

"Great," Seth with a grin on his face. "It's just one step closer to getting rid of those disgusting maggots…hey, Peterson, what are they called again?"

"Darkstalkers, sir."

"Yeah, those…,"the young man replied with total disgust in his voice. "I hate them. In fact, I hate all of them." Getting up from his chair, Seth made a break for the exit, slowly patting him on the shoulder. "You know what, Peterson?"

"What, sir?"

"Remind me that the next time we consort with anyone of those Darkstalker freaks, let's just shoot them. We'll save more time that way."

Author's Note: Sorry guys for the super long wait. Goodness, when school hits the corner, it really occupies your time. Hopefully, I'll get the next chapter up. And hey, don't forget! I'm still up for ideas, comments, constructive crits, the normal mish-mash. So please, comment, and offer inspiration! It'll help keep me going.