I own nothing except my ocs. Warhammer 40,000 is owned by Games Workshop and Powerpuff Girls Doujinshi is owned by Bleedman.

Opening File: Sharpwood

During our sequestered pilgrimage to the version of Terra under the protection of the League of Justice, the Emperor has ordered us at the Logos Historita Varta to document our findings on this version of Holy Terra for His Most Holy Mission. As such, this is a minor record of the minute village of Sharpwood.

Founded in 1895, this small town was created as a mining town during the Gold Rush. However, it was abandoned 3 years later when there was no gold to be unearthed near the town. In 1963, Sharpwood was repopulated by people who were suffering from poverty and desperation. But by 1993's time, the economy of Sharpwood collapsed due to lack of an official governing body, forcing the town to seek outer sources to ask provident for food and resources.

The location of Sharpwood means that regardless of the time of year, it will remain winter all year. As such, people in Sharpwood rarely experience spring or summer days in a year. The residents of Sharpwood have been known to possess a fascinating hatred of their enemies, often staying at the town simply to spite their enemy. I myself do not know what has begotten this but I must abide. So, I will compile a record of that on a later date but to each their own.

Chaos intrusion may have infested this town, as reports of odd behavior or sightings of 'daemonic entities' have been intercepted. As such, due to the lack of Inquisitors that have yet to migrate to this version of Terra, a specialist has been sent to Sharpwood to investigate. The results, as you know, were not expected but the goal was achieved none the less. I see now that his actions had removed yet another threat from the multitude that threaten humanity in every waking moment. I see that now.

Ave Imperator -Oculus Imperia.

It was another day in Detroit for 28-year-old Warren Kallinger. The streets were loud, the kids were assholes, and he had to deal with his asshole landlord and his goons. The hours of his job were fine, but he was still struggling from the humiliation that the street kids put him through due to them being some of his arrests when he was still an officer.

Warren was a former police officer who had been slandered and laid off a month ago due to drunk driving and accidentally running over a couple. Afterwards, he managed to find work as a bellhop for a wealthy hotel but his landlord has been taking his payments as 'compensation for his rent', whatever the hell that was. Before that though, his girlfriend for three years, Hannah, left him for some pimp that'll make sure she left a life of excitement until she overdoses while fucking some wealthy client. And his mother just called him last Tuesday to tell him that he'd just been written out of his father's will.

Suffice to say, Warren's life had gone down the tubes.

The man grumbled as he unlocked the door to his apartment, a small place with only a kitchen and bathroom. There was a TV sitting on a cabinet beside the four windows overlooking the streets, his bed was by the door with a lamp and stand, and his stacks of manga that he used whenever he had spare time... which was whenever he wasn't at work or getting drunk with whatever friends he had left. He admits that he was a very homely person.

After giving his money to Dorian again and getting out of his work uniform when he entered his apartment, Warren then plopped onto a recliner and turned on the TV with the bag of fast food that he picked up before he came back.

"Another tragedy in downtown Detroit later today." That blonde whore of an anchorwoman announced on air, artificial as the background behind her, before the picture of an African American man then appeared beside her, "Mark Shirter, who had originally been charged with drug trafficking, killed his wife and children before engaging in a fire fight between him and the local police, killing 2 officers in the process. Shirter was then gunned down after his rifle had run out of ammunition."

"Jesus." Warren voiced his disgust as he eats his burger. Killing your wife and kids before getting in a shootout. How fucking crazy does someone have to be to do that? Not crazy enough as he once arrested a mother trying to drown her son because she couldn't handle the stress of being a mother.

The worst part of that shit is how common it is the city. Crime was as high as the population, with gunfights, rapes, murders, and corruption plaguing the city like a cancer than comes back no matter how many times it gets cut out. That was why Warren got the job as a policeman. He wanted to help the city that had fallen into disarray but eventually, the city ate him just as it ate so many others before him. Now it came up stronger than ever after the opening of the rift.

"God. I wish this city would just disappear." Warren muttered as he finished off the rest of his fast food, turned off the TV, brushed his teeth, took his sleeping pills, and went to bed.

Oh, Warren: be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it.

Next Morning

"GOOD MORNING, BUTTERCUP!"

Warren was ripped from his sleep when he heard his car alarm, with the sounds of some guys smashing something. He rushed out of his bed to the windows to see his landlord Dorian, a 50-year-old man, tattooed and bearded, wearing a white beater and some jeans while he and a bunch of other gangbangers are smashing a red Sedan.

Which just so happens to be his car.

The former officer rushes out, cladding himself in a grey wifebeater and some black warm up pants just as he came out the front entrance of his building, screaming, "DORIAN, WAIT! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP! STOP!"

Dorian and his gang indeed stop after they heard, while the former just chuckles while patting a bat in his hands. The rest of his gang follow suit, with Warren just looking exasperated at what was going on.

"Well, well, well, Warren Kallinger." Dorian laughs, before making a serious expression, "Where's my money?"

"I gave you the money, yesterday!" Warren practically shrieked.

Dorian laughed, again, "See the funny thing is, I used that to pay for me, my friends and families' trip to Las Vegas next week. So, I need another 10 grand."

"Oh, come on!" Warren said exasperatedly, "I'm broke!"

"Well, that means you got till Saturday to get that money, or you won't have a bed to sleep in." Dorian threatened while rest of his gang laughed while Warren just stood there disbelievingly. "Like, what the hell do we pay you for, Warren?" His landlord pressed his bat on Warren's chest.

Warren just had his mouth open incredulously, "You don't pay me at all!"

"Exactly! You work at that fancy ass hotel, getting paid 500 dollars an hour, and I," Dorian pointed the bat to his chest for emphasis, "Use that to keep your lights on. So, get the money."

Warren just sighs, "Fine. I'll see what I can do."

"Good. Alright, Boys! Let's get some booze!" The landlord motioned to his gang, one of whom punctured the tire on Warren's car. They all hollered and sawdered off, leaving Warren by his lonesome.

Said man just facepalmed, "Dammit."

After getting dressed for his job as a bellhop for the fanciest hotel in Empire City, Warren was forced to take the bus down to the Hilton Garden Inn where he worked. He made sure to keep his hat down so some damn kids don't laugh.

The truth is Warren hates the bus with a passion, but he read that more people get shot walking, so his ass takes the bus. Don't think for a second that what he reads is some activist journalism crap, Detroit is just that bad. And it will eat you alive. The only question is when. He thought about leaving it one day, but he ain't even fooling himself. He's got no money, no car, no insurance, just his apartment and the bus. Just like the rest of the lower and middle class of Detroit, no dreams, no hope, no future.

Nobody ain't got a shadow of a prayer.

But as the bus got near, he saw two people walking down the street. One was a 34-year-old man with long brown hair, gleaming gold eyes, and a sharp and angular face. He was wearing a trench coat over a black business suit with a golden tie. The other was a breathtakingly beautiful woman with golden blonde hair tied in a ponytail, sapphire eyes that seemed to gleam in the sunlight, and a face that seemed to be crafted by the angels themselves.

Warren stared at the two for what felt like hours, specifically at the woman, but decided to try and not to think about it as the bus pulled up to the Inn. He entered the Inn, a lavish place where any rich asshole would spend his savings on, and just sat at the reception table with a blank expression until his boss, Chris McLean, walked by.

"Hey, Chris-"

Warren was cut off by his boss, "Warren! Hey, buddy!"

Chris then shook his hand with a very beautiful woman in expensive attire, "Hello and welcome to Hilton Garden Inn! Allow us to help you with that!" Chris snapped his fingers to other Bellhops who took the woman's luggage, while his tone turned flirty, "I'd like to see you later gorgeous."

The woman giggled before Chris turned to Warren.

"So, yeah. I need you to head to 745. There's a drunk woman acting crazy." Chris continued before Warren could ask for anything, "And I need to do me a favor. Can you check out the Penthouse? They've had a 'Do Not Disturb' sign on their door since 2:00 PM yesterday."

"Okay, sure." Warren agreed, before asking, "Hey, can I get my check early this month?"

Chris turned to him while putting a hand to his shoulder, seemingly concerned, "What? Why? Are you okay?"

"No, I'm fine. I just need the money." Warren said, hoping he'll say yes.

"Just do what I asked, and I'll see what I can do." Chris said before almost walking off and then turned back, "Do you have your master keycard?"

Warren checked his pockets while stuttering, "I-I-I don't know. I guess I misplaced-"

"Take my spare. Just get it done." Chris slaps his spare master card on Warren's chest and walked away.

The bellhop just blinked before shrugging. At least, it was nothing too crazy.

Exiting the elevator, he heard a woman wailing in the room Chris asked him to go. Approaching it, a thirty-year-old man ran out of room 745, in a nightshirt, robe, and slippers, while a lamp and shoes were thrown at him. He then saw Warren and walked up to him.

"Hey," the man said in an apologetic tone, "Look, please go easy. She just lost her mother and fell off the wagon."

Warren nodded, while entering the room to see a 24-year-old woman wearing only a bathrobe sobbing on the bed. She looks up to see him and her husband, afterwards she frantically tightens her robe and gives a nervous smile.

"I-I'm so sorry," The woman said, "I'm just- Y-You know just..."

He just shook his head, "It's okay. I just need ya to calm down."

"O-Okay..." She mumbled, looking down. Her husband came back in and comforted her. Warren, feeling bad for her, asked if there was anything he could do, but all he got was help him comfort her. After 20 minutes, she calmed down enough for Warren to go. He felt sympathy and stood up to leave.

"By the way, I'm-" He was gonna ask for her phone number, but he was cut off by the woman closing the door on him. After which, he just dejectedly hung his head, "-Warren."

He just shook his head again; wasn't the first time he'd been turned down whenever he'd helped some attractive female.

Next was the penthouse. Good lord, he hoped he wasn't going to walk in on any BDSM shit.

Warren first went to a vending machine and got some Cupcakes; he hadn't eaten anything all day. The taste was like heaven on his tongue before he finished them off and headed for the elevator.

He pressed the button for the penthouse, the fancy elevator doors closed while the machine hummed to live and ascended the shaft to the penthouse, the admittedly catchy music playing along the way. Since the Inn was a few stories high, Warren could just lean back and play with his iPhone for a few minutes to alleviate the crushing boredom he felt whenever he was working in this fucking place.

Suddenly, the lights flickered, the music was rendered to static, and the elevator stopped before reaching the penthouse, exactly stopping the 17th floor. There was a feeling that he couldn't describe, like a reverse Deja Vu: like he was going to be there in the near future.

"TIME TRAVEL?! WHAT?! HOW DOES THAT WORK?!" Warren heard someone at the end of the hall shouting as the elevator doors open, revealing a tall man wearing a black leather trench coat with a red scarf, blue khakis, and tall leather boots at the end of the hall into the next one. Someone was in the next hallway, veiled but with their arms up in a placating manner.

"Please, calm down-" Another person in the other hallway tried to calm the other one down before getting cut off.

"NO! Now both of us are..." The man screamed again only to stop in realization, "Wait. Holy shit, this was when it happened. That means..." He muttered out loud before he turned to Warren who was still in the elevator. Warren's jaw slackened as did the other man.

The other man was him. Hair was longer and in a ponytail with a few cuts and a faded black eye, but it was very much him. He appeared more rugged and disheveled more than he usually was, with a full beard and mustache, a scar running down his left eye, and police badge on his coat. The two Warrens just stare for an amount of time that neither could describe before the one in the hallway acted first.

"Oh, no..." He muttered out before he grabbed the person behind the wall, yelling as he dragged the person with him, "Come on!"

Warren blinked, suddenly he was back in the elevator. The same simple yet fancy elevator with the singular occupant, ascending to the penthouse floor as he just stilled before whispering.

"...the fuck?"

Warren spent a minute tried to figure out what he saw. Already he had just gotten to the penthouse floor, pinching the brow of his nose, trying to make sense of what just happened. Maybe, after he could finish his job here, get his check, and pay off his landlord, then he could go home and drink this away.

Yeah, maybe he just under too much stress. Warren needed a day off anyway.

He slowly walked to the door of the penthouse, a foreboding feeling pressed down on him, like something was pressing down on him. It was almost unbearably quiet to where his own footsteps seemed to loud, the walls appeared frozen and tensely chipping Slowly, he removed the "Do Not Disturb" sign from the door before turning the knob.

Just then, a gloved hand holding a cloth shot from the penthouse and struck him on the lower half of his face. Then everything went black.

Warren awoke, groaning as he sat up only for a booted foot to push him back to the floor. His eyes shot open, revealing to him a large man clothed in black with a stoic look on his face. He turned to see several men and women like the one above him but one of them, which he assumed was the ringleader, was wearing a white business suit instead of the black.

The ringleader noticed that he was awake and turned to him, "Ah, Mr. Kallinger. How nice of you to join us for this most extravagant of times."

"What the hell is going on?" Warren yelled as he struggled to get up.

"Quite simple, Mr. Kallinger." The ringleader responded, "The end of the False Emperor."

Warren just gained a bewildered expression at that response, "W-What the fuck is the False Emperor?"

"Right, you are one of those ignorant masses." The ringleader tsked, turning to the glass doors leading to the porch of the penthouse, beginning a grandiose speech for his plan, "The False Emperor walks among these streets with one of his blinded novitiates. The Marquis of Locusts has given us this most virtuous of tasks and we shall offer up this cancerous city as our payment to him. When I press this detonator," He displayed a silvery tubular detonator that was in his hand, "The cleansing fire will burn it all to the dust. The Emperor and his novitiate will die, and the angels will rend their souls to the sunder we all race towards."

Something began burning. Like a spark that grew into an inferno of something that he thought he lost when he was fired.

The ringleader began getting louder as a sigil that resembled an eight-pointed star flared on the back of his neck, splaying his arms dramatically, "When the city is immolated, we will rend the souls into a storm, we will shed our mortal forms and ascend to the heavens as new angels for the Gods! We will drown the world in its screams, we will flood the streets in bloods, and we will give the Emperor as our sacrifice!"

It blazed. Burning brighter than the stars themselves. This would not happen. Not as long as he lived.

He howled as he raised the detonator, "DEATH TO THE CORPSE EMPEROR!"

The words came out of Warren's mouth, no more reason and no more fear, just rage, "NOOOOOOO!"

His hand seemed to move on its own accord, striking the man on top of him in the crouch. He howled in pain, distracting him enough for Warren to retch himself out and strike him in the jugular just as another henchman put him in a chokehold. The two struggled and struggled, backing away from the ringleader before he kicked an approaching henchwoman directly in the face, possibly breaking her nose and then elbowing the henchmen that was choking him in the gut, which managed to free him from the chokehold. Twirling around, Warren kicked another henchman in gut and then the face before roundhouse-kicked another in the face just as she attempted to strike him with a baton.

The former policeman smack both of his hands on another henchmen's eardrums, deafening him before Warren then knifehanded a henchwoman in the throat and right hooking another henchman, taking both of them out of the game. The final henchmen struck him from behind, hitting him in the kidneys, before Warren blocked a lefthook, grabbed the henchman by the shoulders and kneed him twice in the sternum. The henchman upchucked blood before Warren doubled knifehanded him in the jugulars, causing him to gargle out more blood as he fell unconscious. Warren whirled around to the ringleader, who was stunned at the display of the former officer, he then panicked when Warren came sprinting towards him. The ringleader quickly fiddled with the detonator before Warren tackled him, sending both into the reinforced glass door, cracking it and caving in the ringleader's ribs.

The ringleader groaned in pain as Warren got off him, retching the detonator out of his hands. But when he looked at it, a small screen showed the words; Detonation Achieved.

"You... are... too... late..." He mocked before blood spewed from his mouth, his eyes became glossy, and his body slumped against the wall, dead.

Just then a boom shook the building, throwing Warren off his feet and the detonator out of his hand. He landed on his back, dazed by the forced of the blast but when he shook it off just a second later, he stared at the source.

It was a wave of whiteness that eclipsed the city, consuming everything in its path. A stream of white death roared through the trepid city like flame through butter, a howl of death as the wind speared westward like a silent blade through flesh, and the helpless masses screaming in fear as they were rendered to nothing under the might of the flames.

"Oh, dear god..." Warren breathed before he scrambled to his feet and sprinted down the hall to the elevator. He could feel the blast approaching, like the reaper coming to bring down his scythe but he dived into the elevator just as the doors closed. For a brief second, he saw the wave of white bursting the penthouse windows into shards, as the doors closed.

It was just seconds after when the elevator closed did the full force of the blast hit. Warren was sent flying into the walls of the elevator as it was torn from its cables and thrown through the shaft. It tumbled and spun like a falling ball until the only remaining cable attached hit a snag, stopping it dead. Thankfully, due to Warren holding onto anything he could see, he managed to survive the whiplash.

Warren breathed heavily, his face deformed by wide eyes and a slacked jaw from shock, his hands gripping the railing as if his life depended on it, which it quite literally did. His breath still heavy, he muttered out, "Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, God." He closed his eyes, "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."

The elevator then groaned, metal screeching as it slowly began descending the shaft again. Warren had the railings in an iron grip but thankfully, it was descending very slowly. It continued to descend for several minutes before stopping when it seemed like it hit the ground, Warren looked down and slowly placed a foot on the floor of the elevator. When nothing happened, he lowered his other foot onto the floor before he slowly let go of the railing.

A few seconds of seeing that the elevator didn't fall and that he wasn't going to plummet to his death, Warren slowly crept to the doors.

"Nice and easy, Warren. Nice and easy." He reassured himself as he slowly put one foot over the other, stopping at every creak, breathing sharply at every movement of the elevator, and stilling at every shake.

He finally reached the doors and curled his fingers between the open spaces, forcing them open with a loud screech as metal scraped against metal. Inch by inch, the doors slowly revealed the ruined lobby before it was wide enough for him to dive through, just as the last cable snapped and the elevator was sent plummeting to a fiery demise.

Warren watched from the floor as the elevator fell to the end of the shaft, a blast rang out as did a light before flames engulfed the doorway. He breathed out before getting back on his feet, still absorbing all that's happened in the last 5 minutes.

The lobby was wrecked beyond all recognition; subtracting from the fact that the lights were out, the ceiling almost appeared melted with a chandelier hanging by a thread as it flew in listless wind, the floor was littered with ash and powder, luggage was burn to a husk with some still burning like a sacrificial pyre, and the entrance was sheltered off by massive fallen stones that had originally been part of one of the many credit union building, now merely a cluster of boulder that blocked the doors. The most horrid parts were the guests or staff that were now burnt-out husks with some barely recognizable or not at all recognizable, limbs lost or reduced to stumps, skin and muscles ripped away or burned to sunder.

One of them was the woman that his boss was flirting with. Half of her body was burnt off with the other side intact, blisters slowly forming from the less severe burns while her viscera was splayed all over the floor. Her intact eye frantically darted around the room before it locked onto him. She gargled out with fluid leaking into her throat, "Help... me... Help... me..." Her eye rolled into the back of her skull as she went limb.

Warren grimaced in disgust, "Yeesh..."

He got to the entrance where the receptionist desk was in splinters with burning stacks of papers, a ruined phone, and his boss who happened to still be alive. It was blocked by massive blocks of jagged stone.

Warren blinked, his boss, Chris McClain, was laying on the ruined desk, still alive. The left side of his body was burnt except his face, his arm white from the burns but other than that, he was alive and in good condition.

Chris seemed just as surprised as Warren, as he blinked in surprise before muttering out, "Jesus, not even the apocalypse can stop you. Can it, Warren?"

Warren actually chuckled at that, "I guess not." He then cleared his throat before he continued, "Anyway, it seems I should get going. Better find some place to lay low before help come.

Then a severely burnt hand came through one of the holes of the barricade, it flailed around, grabbing whatever it could get its fingers on. A scream was heard from outside, lasting for a minute before it went limb. The arm then fell through the hole, severed from its owner with a thud being heard from the other side.

"...On second thought, maybe I should just wait here for a minute." Warren made the wise decision and decided to stay behind in the hotel and wait until the storm calmed down.

It was ten minutes later after listening to the howling winds of the storm and the screams of those who were foolish enough to venture out during the tumulus blaze of the storm, that Warren was able to exit the building by squeezing through some of the spaces between the massive blocks of stones. Originally, he took off the coat of his bellhop uniform and tied it around a pole of rebar, then sticking it out through one of the spaces and pulling it back in. When he pulled it back and it finally wasn't on fire, or smoking, or red hot and steaming, that signified that he was okay to go out. But as he squeezed past the rocks and he escaped the confines of the Inn, he could only gap at what he sees.

Detroit had been reduced to utter ruin; the buildings that he was familiar with for the past 12 years were now nothing but smashed and gutted facsimiles of their former glory, the sky was a dark grey with clouds of white and specks of green, the streets filled with an endless sea of burnt-out corpses. The husks were a smelted grey, the skin hard and charcoal like, they varied in size and form but, they were bone thin, no muscles of any kind. They had no hair or genitals, their eyes sunken into their skulls long since liquefied, the cheeks were torn apart and exposed to the few that were still living.

Some were impaled on lampposts or tangled on powerlines, the sidewalks were splintered into slabs of loose concrete, fire hydrants burst apart with water flooding the streets, and flashes of electricity from the down powerlines for the briefest of seconds. There were figures, faintly seen in the distance, gunshots cracking off beyond his sight, a beating akin to a heart pulsing from somewhere below his feet. The ash crunched like snow under his feet while the air seemed both warm and cold at once, wind flowing like a voiceless song given sound.

Warren stared for what felt like hours at the ruins that had once been his city, but he shook it off as he needed to get to somewhere safe and get some supplies, because who knows how long it'll be before help arrives.

He then heard gunshots followed by maniacal laughter in the distance.

And perhaps grab something to defend himself.

Trekking through the streets, Warren finally found an intact gas station just a few blocks from the Inn. The pumps were destroyed with some ruined cars blocking the entrances and exits while the main building seemed fine all things considered. He looked into the interior of the ruined gas station, which was covered in scorch marks, white powder, and ash. Some shelves were overturned but all still had food on the racks, refrigerators were still working and held drinks still cold, and the counter seemed fine with the exception of the dead body lying on the register.

Warren thought fast and slammed against the door, then again and again until the jammed doors broke from their hinges, causing him to stumble in. It was only then that he noticed that his clothing was ragged and covered in ash, his posture was somewhat hunched with how he panted like an animal. He turned to the shelves with almost a mad expression before grabbing a small bag of chips and ripping it open.

"Oh, thank you Jesus. Thank you, God." The man breaths in relief, taking handfuls of chips and stuffing them into his mouth, chomping loudly. After a minute, he finishes and breaths out in relief as he tosses the empty bag away.

"Okay, Warren, plan; get food, get a weapon, and find a place to stay until help comes." Warren talked to himself, trying to come up with a plan, "Yeah. Let's see what they have."

For the next three minutes, Warren wandered around the gas station collecting food, drinks, water, supplies, and gear, and putting it all in the bag he got from outside. When he went to the counter, he pulled the charred corpse of what could only be assumed to be the clerk or cashier off the cash register and opened it, taking all the money out and packing it into his coat pockets. Warren noticed a cabinet by the register and opens it to reveal a pistol and ammo clips.

"Huh. Lucky me." Warren said to himself as he checked the gun while putting the clips in his pants pocket.

Suddenly, a crash rang out. Warren immediately reacted by raising the gun to where he heard the noise come from. The door to the janitor's closet shook slightly, earning Warren's attention.

"What's that?! Who's there?" He growled out, slowly exited from behind the counter and crept through the second aisle, turning right and directly to the janitor's closet. His hand was shaking, as it had been a while since he'd shot somebody. The closet hadn't made a sound since he'd heard it a minute ago. Warren got closer and closer, extending his hand as to grab the knob. and turned it, slowly letting the door creak open. Then he swung it open and pointed his gun in the closet.

"FREEZE, ASS...hole?" Warren shouted before trailing off when he didn't see anything. He lowered his gun and looked in the closet, not seeing anything other than some cleaning supplies and a broom that laid on the floor. The former officer scratched his head for a second before muttering, "Oh, God, I'm losing my damn mind."

Warren then holstered his gun and then muttering, "Relax, Warren: no one will ever know. He dropped it when they went off. You'll be fine."

But just as he was about to exit the gas station, sounds of laughter, screams, and gunshots rang out from the right side of his peripheral vision. Warren turned to see a group of thugs tormenting a helpless woman who was clothed only in rags with their guns.

The former officer's instincts kicked in, as he kicked open the doors of the station again, aimed at the three and fired. He missed twice but hit all three of them in the chest, head, and throat, the first clenching his chest in pain, the second dying instantly, and the third grasping his throat, gargling blood before collapsing. The woman that they were assaulting looked at Warren once before she scrambled away without another word.

Warren just shrugged and walked along. Wasn't the first time an attractive woman ran away after he saved them.

He wandered around the streets that were still intact for hours on end, navigating the ruined city and avoiding psychos and repressed assholes as he tried to get back to his apartment to collect his stuff, steal a car, and get out of Detroit while he could... only to see his building was in flames and his apartment was nothing more than a hole in the building.

"NO!" Warren yelled out in despair as he fell to his knees, "MY MANGA COLLECTION!"

The one thing that kept him from putting a bullet in his head when he was forced to resign after being slandered was now nothing but ashes. It was hard but he had to hold the grief in because if he stayed here, he'll be killed by anybody that'd come within eyeshot of him.

As Warren got up from the street though, he saw that Dorian and his gang were all dead, along with the kids that harassed him every day. While he wasn't gonna just for joy for either being dead cause he's not that petty, but he wasn't sad that they were gone.

Warren then began his search for a place to stay until either the Justice League or the authorities arrive but every apartment building or hotel, he found was either on fire or destroyed, but when he came to the Mayflower apartments building, he found that it was relatively intact, but then he noticed that two people were coming out of the exits.

It was what he assumed to a couple; the male had a black business suit on that was coaxed with ash, long brown hair, and oddly familiar golden eyes. It was then that Warren saw that he had tall black boots on that covered numerous bandages, stained with blood. Obviously, his legs were injured in the blast, and they had to make do with what they had.

The female was in much better shape, but she was still covered head to toe in dust and ash and blood. She was dressed in a Demin jacket and jeans, with a white shirt and blue tennis shoes. Her hair was tied in a ponytail with a few stands loose, sapphire blue eyes, and perfect face that seemed like it was crafted from the angels.

Wait... Those two were the ones he saw on the bus when he was heading to work!

He didn't do anything when he saw that they were armed. They just stared for a moment in silence before it was broken by Warren, who breathed out, "Christ... I thought I was the only one left."

"Same." The man breathed, "I-I'm Derek. Derek Halls. And this is my wife, May."

His wife waved to the man, smiling kindly.

"Well... um... My name's Warren. Warren Kallinger." Warren introduced himself, before looking to the apartments and asking, "Um, by the way, are some of the apartments in there still intact? My place is burnt to a crisp."

The two looked at each other, before May answered, "Well, we passed by a few on our way out. They might be okay to stay in." She then asked randomly, "Say; is there any place nearby that might have a radio or something?"

Warren looked puzzled but thought about it and snapped his fingers, "The hotel I used to work at, the Hilton Garden Inn. I-It's got an emergency radio in the manager's office. It's just 2 or 3 miles from here."

"Oh, thank you." Derek breathed in relief, before asking, "Say, why are you looking for a place to hide?"

"And face down the lunatics that are prowling the streets?" Warren questioned the man before he scoffed bitterly, "Maybe for a braver man. Me? I'm just gonna find a place to stay until help comes. Anyway, thanks. I'll get out of your hair."

He walked into the building without another word just as the two walked off to that hotel, trudging in the silenced city. Warren stared at the wooden door that was somehow imbedded in the porcelain ceiling but shrugged, shit like this was commonplace in this kind of world.

But he was not prepared for what he found when he got to the 7th floor. There were at least 15 to 20 bodies on the floor; most had died either by slash wounds on the legs, blunt force trauma, broken bones, puncture wounds to the throat or lungs, or even a broken spine. Hell, one of them had his head reduced to pulp! The least mutilated one was a druggie that was shot in the cheekbone.

Warren wasn't sickened by the bodies as it wasn't the first time he'd come across a massacre during his 8 years as a cop, but still sometimes it still got to him sometime. Eventually, he found a flat he liked and took shelter there. The bed was simply just a mattress with no frame, but he was not gonna complain at the least.

The former police officer then closed and barricaded the door with a cabinet, set down his bag and gun, and then went to sleep as the howling winds blew on like a haunting lullaby.

3 weeks later...

Lansing Police Station

11:30PM

"...and for the fifth time, I'm telling you; that's what happened!" Warren finished for the police. It had been 3 weeks since the bombing of Detroit and he had been arrested a few days ago because apparently the detonator survived the blast, and his fingerprints were still on it when he threw it away.

He was now in an interrogation room with two officers that were in front of him whom still looked at him skeptically, though one more than the other. The first was a somewhat heavyset man with a police uniform under leather jacket on, short brown hair, blue eyes, and a skeptical but understanding expression. The second was an insanely attractive woman with her chocolate brown hair tied in a ponytail, her uniform was conservative, but it clung to her in a way that left little to the imagination, and she had a very stern and angry expression.

Warren in the meanwhile, was in a black hoodie over a blue shirt, Demin jeans, and black tennis shoes.

He knew these two officers: Daniel 'Dan' Kessler and Jane Hendricks. They were good cops from this department, but they used to be in Detroit before they transferred to Lansing just a month ago before he was fired.

And he may have had a thing with Jane a while back when he was still an officer and after his girlfriend dumped him.

"Why are you so annoyed, sir?" Dan asked cautiously.

Warren just sputtered exasperatedly, "Because you're accusing me of something that I didn't commit!"

Jane then cut in, leaning onto the table and showing him the evidence that they gathered from the hotel, "Well, look what we have to work with; we found your fingerprints on the detonator, the cameras show you were near the penthouse when the bombs went off, and the footprints that we found are the same as the shoes you wear."

"Okay, but that's all a coincidence!" Warren pleads, hoping that by some miracle that they'd believe him.

Jane groaned in frustration, before Dan put a hand on her shoulder and said, "Look, let's just hear him out. Maybe he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

She calmed down while sighing. Jane then asked Warren accordingly, "Okay, where were you at the time of the crime, Mr. Kallinger?"

"Again?!" Warren replied incredulously, but after seeing Jane's stern expression he just sighed and began to explain his story again, "I was having a really bad day with my landlord, and I asked my boss for my check early. I entered the penthouse, but they had already detonated the bombs. Afterwards, I sprinted to the elevator and took cover there just as the blast hit the building."

"You took cover in the elevator? Really?" Jane deadpanned.

"I panicked!" He snapped back at her, his patience wearing thin with her attitude. He swore, this bitch is the main reason why he's aromantic.

"Jane, please." Dan scolded his partner, also sick of her attitude, who just huffed and crossed her arms while pouting childishly, "Please continue Mr. Kallinger."

Warren sighed in annoyance and continued, "I survived the blast and escaped the elevator and the building. I trekked around the city, I robbed a gas station for food, and I eventually found Mayflower apartments. After the Justice League and the authorities came to clean up Detroit, I got into the crowd of people that were leaving the city and you know the rest."

Dan just wrote something on his notepad and asked Jane to come with him, she obeyed after giving Warren a stern glare. The two left the interrogation room and talked to someone that he didn't see, while other officers voiced out how they wanted him dead. Then he heard their voices turned to confusion as someone opened the door to the station.

Suddenly, shouting was heard from the other side of the door. Warren raised an eyebrow puzzled before the door was kicked open by several men in suits and jacket with FBI on either the right breast or back.

Warren just had a perplexed expression, answering with a clear hesitance in his voice, "Um... can I help you?"

"Yes; are you Warren Kallinger?" One of the agents glaring harshly at him.

He leans back, quite intimidated and uneasy, "Yes. Who's asking?"

"The FBI. You're coming with us."

That was the last thing said before two grabbed him by the arms while one cuffed him. Warren tried to yell out for help, but they forced him out of the interrogation room and into the office areas. He saw the other officers looking on in surprise at this development, Jane seemed pleased that he was being taken away but hid it when the chief came out.

"What the hell is going on here?!" He yelled to the agents, only for one of them to hold up a form to his face.

One of the agents explained, "Chief Ferris, we're with the FBI. We have been ordered to take Mr. Kallinger into custody for the Bombing of Detroit. He will be detained at Blackgate until his trial."

"What?! Blackgate?!" Warren exclaimed, but he didn't get any more than that before they gagged him and dragged him outside. Thankfully, no one was there but what was is a police van that he was in, some SWAT Team members dragged him in. They all watched him with disgusted glares while Warren just stared back with an empty expression.

So, this was how he was gonna die; shanked in a cell by a vengeful vigilante for his actions or being sold as Big Bubba's prison wife in exchange for a pack of smokes... Well, there were worse ways to go. At least, he'd get probably die in his sleep.

Warren then tuned everything out as he leaned back against the walls of the police van, not hearing anything they were saying and just waiting for when they would get to Blackgate... until the van suddenly was overturned and all of them were sent tumbling around. The world seemed to move in vertigo and in loops until the van hit something that stopped all of them in their tracks. A loud screech was heard grinding against the road but then it hit something else again and they finally stopped.

The fugitive was left with whiplash, eyes in swirls for a few moments until he saw that the SWAT team and the agents were dead and that his cuffs had been broken from the scuffle. As a last bonus, the doors to the van had been torn open.

Not one to look at a gift horse in the mouth, Warren scrambled out of the van and ripped the gag off, running away just as several civilians came in to see the commotion.

2 days later...

7:30PM

After the van had crashed, the last two days had been a dozy for Warren; he first escaped to the subway after going to the bathroom of a restaurant in secret and rising out the dye in his hair, revealing his naturally silver hair.

When he was ten, he was in a car accident with his dad. Both of them survived, but it scared him so much that his hair greyed overnight. Because of his prematurely silver hair, he was made fun of so much that his mother dyed his hair, so they'd stop. Since then, he kept dying his hair so he wouldn't attract attention but now given that his public image was that he had brown hair, it might help him to get rid of his hair dye.

Next, Warren hoped on the next train out of the city. Thankfully, the cops arrived just as the train had left the station, but it only went to the end point of the city. So, after wandering for a few blocks and hiding from the cops, he attacked a guy in a parking lot and stole his car. Thankfully, it was a Denny's, so there were no witnesses.

After that, he escaped Lansing and sped off to for the next city, but before he arrived, he stopped at a hotel to rest at. Warren managed to spend the night and left before anybody caught on. During his time on the road however, the fugitive heard on the radio that a 2-million-dollar reward for his capture. Meaning he had to get an alias fast or every person in the country would be hunting for him.

Thankfully, Warren managed to get some fake IDs and get the alias, "Jack Graves."

...Yes, it was a weird name, but he didn't care. He then stayed at a shady motel for the night and refueled his stolen car just before he left. Things that he'd stolen along with the car were all packed in the trunk, which was only what he considered necessary; some food, drinks, and some lubricating oil in case there was a problem with the brakes of the car.

Now, Warren was driving along the backroads of Grand Rapids, thinking about what he should do next. Should he cut his face a few times to give himself some scars, so he doesn't get recognized? Should he burn his fingers with acid so he wouldn't leave any fingerprints? Or should he get rid of the color contacts he's been wearing since he was three and so nobody would recognize him with his natural red eyes?

His thoughts were interrupted when a drunk man was waking in the way of his car. Warren slammed on the brakes, but it was too late as the front of the car hit the man directly in the gut. The man hurled up chunks of blood all over the hood of the car, before stepping back two or three times before he fell dead. Warren got out of the car and looked at the drunk man's corpse, his mind blank for a moment before he began worrying as he now had a body on his hands.

"What do I do?! What do I do?!" Warren whispers frantically to himself before getting an idea.

After pickpocketing the body, he grabs the dead man while putting him in the driver's seat of his car, while dosing it all in the lubricating oil he bought at the gas station. He pushed the car, with great strain, down the incredibly deep trench that was nearby where it slides, tumbled, flipped, and crashed into a particularly large tree.

"Yes! Wait, they'll know that's not me! I mean, come on, Warren! That guy looks nothing like you!" Warren berated himself, before calming down, "Okay, what can I do?" He then noticed the bottle of lubricating oil in his hand had in bold print, "WARNING! HIGHLY FLAMMABLE!"

Warren just muttered, "Oh, how convenient."

The man on the run slowly treaded down the trench until he reached the car, then pulling out some matches and trying to light one. The corpse in the driver's seat was in bad shape, two large loose branches punctured the chest while the rear-view mirror had been broken off and embedded in the head, the right leg appeared fine, but the left leg had been snapped in half.

After a second, Warren just said grimacing, "Sorry, man. But I don't know ya."

He struck a match and flicked it onto the car. It caught fire in an instant just as Warren turned around and sprinted towards the road. Quickly running up the trench to get away from the fire, he got into the man's truck and drove off.

Warren sighed in relief as he drove on, 'That should buy me a couple weeks, till I can find a town to lay low-'

An explosion then racked his ears as he turned around to see large parts of the forest on fire with birds and animals fleeing the trees.

"What?" Warren said to himself, befuddled, "That was a hybrid car. It didn't have that much gas in it."

3 days later...

Dearborn, Michigan

11:55PM

In a bar/gas station in Dearborn, where a lot of guys drinking beer and hitting on attractive women, the TV showed an attractive and busty anchorwoman wearing a black revealing dress. She had a sultry aura to her with that pearly smile and lovely voice.

"An update on the chase for Warren Kallinger; it appears that the man has crashed his car into a ditch." An anchorwoman said on the TV, showing the flaming wreckage of a car in a ditch while the fire department was putting out the fire, "While it is ambiguous if the body found in the car was Kallinger, the car was confirmed to be stolen by Kallinger when he broke out of the patty wagon meant to escort him to Blackgate where he would be staying before his trial. Local Police Chief Richard Waters had this to say."

A heavyset African American in a police chief uniform was seen onscreen in front of a podium with some reporters swarming around him like the sharks that they were.

"We can't confirm much as the autopsy reported 4th and 5th degree burns all around his body and even in his body." Chief Waters states to the reporters, "DNA tests confirmed that Kallinger was in the car but again, we can't confirm that the body is his."

It then showed back to the anchorwoman, speaking with an almost sad expression and tone, "Due to lack of leads, the search for Warren Kallinger has been put on hold until further notice though Police and superheroes alike are persistent. For now, it seems justice for those lost in Detroit has yet to be served."

The bartender, an attractive and busty brunette wearing a red uniform, shook her head, "Damn shame. I was hoping that Kallinger would get what was coming to him. What do you think?" She asked a patron, who just so happened to be Warren in disguise. He was wearing a black long sleeve shirt under a green vest, Demin jeans, and blue tennis shoes. His face hidden by a Detroit tigers baseball cap.

After a second of being silent, Warren just played along as he suspiciously took a drink from his mug, "Uh... yeah. Damn shame Kallinger got away."

The rest of the patrons all nod in unison and drink to that but then the bartender narrowed their eyes in suspicion, "Say... what's your name?"

Warren blinked, "I'm sorry what?"

"The whole time you've been here, I've never heard your name." The bartender replied, before extending her hand, "Look, I just need to see some ID because I'm not sure of your certification."

"Okay." Warren agreed and pulled out one of his fake IDs and gave it to her.

The bartender examined it for a few moments; it showed the man with a ponytail and a slightly black eye, the date of birth was listed as June 3rd, 1995, and the name listed was Alto Clef. She hemmed and hawed for a second before giving the ID card back to him, "Alright, this seems legit. Good talking to you, Alto."

One of the patrons did a spit take and laughed out loud before he asked incredulously, "What the hell kind of name is Alto?!"

"It's my name you son of a bitch." Some lumberjack growled, with his friends got up, looking angry and cracking their knuckles.

Realizing what was about to happen, Warren quickly paid the bartender and told her to keep the change as he rushed out the door. The sounds of glass breaking, punches landing, and the bartender yelling were heard as he slammed the door shut and slowly made his way to his truck.

Unseen to him, was a man with long brown hair, wearing a black business suit and dress shirt with a golden tie under a black leather duster and a fedora standing in the parking lot. He wrote something down on a parchment before approaching Kallinger when he finished. Just as Warren got to his car, he saw the man.

They both stared at each other for a few moments before Warren asked, cautious and unsurely, "C-Can I help you?"

The man kept his head down and handed him the parchment, "You can actually. Meet me at this location in an hour and I won't call the police on you, Mr. Kallinger."

He didn't wait for Warren's reaction as he sped off by then, leaving him in the parking lot alone. The former officer was left silent, looking back at the bar he'd just exited, which was still flaring with the sounds of a barfight. Warren, deciding that he doesn't have a choice, numbly walked back to his truck and hoped for the best as he started his vehicle up and got on the road, driving to the place that the man asked him to go.

Thankfully for his life, Warren still had his iPhone, so he just typed it into Google Maps. The place was only a few minutes away thankfully, but it was an abandoned warehouse in an old neighborhood.

Warren hesitates but goes to the location that the man asked him to go.

Ten minutes past and he arrived at the warehouse. It was an old, abandoned warehouse but there are no cars parked nearby nor lights in the interior, the paint was chipping off on an almost alarming rate, the silos nearby seemed like they were near collapsing with their brick structure almost a baseball thrown too hard from it becoming a pile of rubble, and the forest nearby almost seemed akin to a wall which could never be penetrated even by a flaming spear.

Warren exited his truck and tremulously walked to the entrance of the warehouse. Suddenly, the massive doors of the warehouse creaked and screeched as they opened on their own, revealing the pitch-black interior. So, pitch black in fact, that nothing could be made out even with the full moon and clear sky.

"Hello?" He called out into the darkness; the sound of his voice seemingly absorbed into the void. Nothing responds even as he calls out again. It got worse as he walked into the warehouse when the doors closed behind him. Warren was startled by the noise, finding himself in pitch black not a moment after. He pulled out his gun pointing it in all directions until it was pulled out of his hand by something that felt like a handmade of air.

Unable to do anything, Warren just stood there in silence and fear, awaiting whatever was coming next. Maybe this was an ambush, and he'd die in a shootout... Oh, well, at least he'd die brave. And that'd probably make for a really good story.

Suddenly, the lights blazed on.

Warren covered his eyes with his arm for a moment before his sight adjusted, revealing the man from the parking lot, along with six others who were draped in armor. One half were men with black advanced-looking armor and their faces covered by streamlined helmets. The other half were women with equally advanced looking armor and streamlined helmets. The lights gleamed off the plates of their armor and they seemed unmoving like statues, there was no twitching of any muscles or expansion of the chest indicating breath. The colors for the details were red, green, and dark blue for both but the females had a lighter shade of color while the males had a darker shade.

It was then that he noticed the man's golden eyes.

"Holy shit." Warren breathed, pointing at the man, "I know you. You were with that blonde woman in Detroit when the bombs went off!"

The man nodded, "The bombing was a plan to kill me and my Acolyte, Belicara." He finished by motioning to the female in blue, whose helmet liquescently retracted into her armor, revealing the blond woman that he claimed was his wife.

"The others are Elitras, Nero, Alistair, Cyrene, and Serena. * You may refer to me as the Emperor or E." He motioned to the others. Their helmets retracted into their armor, revealing that those with matching colors were akin to twins but with different sexes. One pair had ginger hair, the other had blond, and last was black-haired.

"Holy shit, dude. You've got babes!" Warren tells him, starstruck by the beauty of the three women, before leaning into E's ear and whispering "Especially, the black haired one."

Serena just scoffed but had a flattered smile.

The Emperor nodded, "Anyway, that is not why I called you here. We are in need of someone to investigate a town for Chaos Corruption."

Warren blinked, "Chaos Corruption?"

"Oh, right."

The man then placed a hand on his forehead. Suddenly, a flurry of visions speared through his mind; a bloodsoaked God sitting on a throne made of skulls, a corpulent and bloated thing stirring a cauldron filled with plagues, an evershifting abomination floating in a crystal labyrinth, and a debaucherous prince resting in a silver palace. A few more visions came; a god of destruction lying in the dark, a master of storms and oceans, a blacksmith consumed by hatred and greed, a nameless thing wreathed in rags and tatters, and a massive horned rat draped in a shroud of plagues.

Warren recoiled at the images, nearly vomiting in distress while Elitras patted him on the back for comfort. After a minute of dry heaving, the former officer was able to stand up and muttered, "Holy shit."

"I know." The Emperor nodded before he continued on, "We suspected that the town of Sharpwood is in the beginning stages of Chaos Corruption, but because we have our hands tied, we need someone to go to Sharpwood and investigate for traits of the Gods. The portion of power and knowledge I've imparted should give you an advantage over the corruption, but you will need to act if you wanna purge the corruption. Again, because our hands are tied, you'll need to do all the work your own."

Warren slowly nods, somewhat understanding it now, "Alright, I think I can do it. But what do I do when I get to Sharpwood?"

"That's on you to figure out." The Emperor commanded, "But remember this: Do whatever it takes so nobody discovers your identity and do whatever you can to root out the corruption. No. Matter. What. I'll give you some money and some housing ads for you and an associate of mine be calling you periodically but in case of an absolute last resort, call this number."

He handed Warren a black calling card with golden printing that had a phone number on it. The former officer had a puzzled look when he examined it but nonetheless puts it into his wallet. The Emperor then gave him a bag that had an envelope full of money and a magazine full of housing ads. Warren looked inside and looked shocked by the amount of money in the envelope.

The Emperor then spoke commandingly, "Now run along to Sharpwood, Mr. Kallinger. Cause the cops are on their way."

Warren blinked owlishly, "Wait, what?"

The lights flickered out for a few moments, engulfing the warehouse in darkness before they flickered back on, but the Emperor and the Acolytes were nowhere to be seen. Warren blinked and looked around for a few moments but didn't see them.

Deciding that he probably should get outta here, Warren sprinted out of the warehouse to his truck with the bag in tow, got in, and revved up the engine before pulling out and speeding down the empty road as fast as he could, though not as fast as to draw attention to him.

But just as he was nearing a corner, the faint sounds of police sirens pricked his ears. He stopped the car at the corner and turned his head to where the sound was coming from. The driveway that led to the warehouse where he was just at was now being swarmed by police cars and SWAT vans, waking up the neighborhood as many people walked out of their houses in their nightwear to see what was going on.

Warren, realizing what was going on, slowly drove away, silently praying that nobody would notice.

Two weeks later...

Sharpwood, Michigan

11:30PM

The quiet sounds of rubber tires crushing on snow puttered out but were absorbed by the trees and snowfall, the doors of a small police car opened as three officers clad in brown coats and beige uniforms exited with their boots quietly crunching on the deepening snow. The leading one was a middle aged man with greying hair with a silver badge on his coat, the other two were younger and had long brown hair with the male of the two having a slight mustache. This was Sheriff Abraham Wells, First Deputy Mary Chu, and Second Deputy John Lark.

The place that they had arrived to be a large wooden longhouse wreathed continuously in snow with a red garbage truck parked by the generator and several recently chopped down trees that were stacked in piles of three, a banner of red flags, and several light posts that gave way for light in the dark nights.

At approximately 1:00 this morning, the Sharpwood Police Department received an anonymous call. The source said he knew where they could find the headquarters of the Neckties, a gang of drug traffickers that recently arrived in the town. Anonymous information is rarely reliable, but for Sheriff Wells, shutting down the Neckties was the department's primary goal. So, he immediately went to the address indicated, along with two other officers as backup.

Sheriff Wells and his two officers crept to the front parts of the Neckties' headquarters, spotting three guards patrol. Wells took cover behind a stack of recently cut down pines, while the female officer took cover behind a generator and the male officer took cover behind another stack of logs.

Just as one of the lookouts came near, the sheriff grabbed him and put the lookout in a chokehold while cuffing him. Officer Lark then vaulted over his cover and tackled the other lookout to the ground before cuffing him, keeping it quiet just as Officer Chu tasered the lookout near the front of the house and quickly and quietly sprinted to cuff him while he was stunned.

With the lockouts taken care off, the sheriff crept to the entrance to the longhouse, ready to storm the building while Officer Chu crept to the side, peering through the window. She whispered into her radio, "We have a visual."

There was a lone guard in the room; a bald slightly portly man in a green coat, brown pants, and black shoes holding a shotgun. He didn't appear concerned about anything at the moment, though it was likely just him not knowing they were there and ready to strike.

Just as Lark took cover under the window near the entrance and by extension Wells, just as the sheriff kicked the door off its hinges and saw the single guard standing by the door to the other. Reacting the femtosecond he saw the guard, Wells raised his revolver and fired, hitting the guard's hand. The bald guard yelled out in pain, clenching his hand and dropping his shotgun. A second later, the guard fled into the other room.

"Go! GO! GO!" Sheriff Wells yelled as he rushed in, just as Chu jimmied the window open and climbed in while Lark just drove through the window, shattering it in the process. All three of them raised their revolvers and stood at the door where the guard had fled into, ready to storm in and fight.

"Today is the day the Neckties die." The sheriff whispered to himself, before yelling as he kicked the door off its hinges and charged in, with Chu and Lark following in after him.

The sounds of gunshots rang out from the hideout, and Sheriff Wells and his two officers were never heard from again.

November 21, 2022

Warren's cabin

1:30PM

"...but today, I wasn't so lucky! I mean, it wasn't just a regular funeral, was it?" The courier says to an unresponsive Warren, "All of Sharpwood showed up! Can you imagine? I had a teacher, Mrs. Dawson. I haven't seen her since the third grade. Figured she'd moved... or died. I mean, it's not easy to lose track of someone in this town, right? And today I'm looking at her in the crowd, all alive and healthy. Imagine, right? And the crowd was huge! It wasn't even a crowd, more like a whole river of people."

The courier was a young brown-haired man in a green jacket, blue jeans, and snow boots, and was rambling on about his day while setting down the groceries; first were three loafs of bread, a jar of peanut butter and grape jelly, a few bottles of whisky, some junk food, and a bag of McDonalds. Warren just kept staring out the window, taking in the courier's ramblings as he was the only thing, he could call company.

Warren's hair had grown out slightly as it now reached his neck, and a beard began forming on the lower half of his face. He wore a red hooded open sweater over a white long sleeve shirt, brown khakis, and black leather boots.

"I mean, you look at all of them and you can't even see the end! All the roads were blocked! Just thinking..." The courier continued on as he emptied the bags, "It's weird there's this dead guy making it so an alive guy can't get his groceries on time, right?" He chuckled and trailed off when Warren didn't respond to his joke. "I mean... I just wanted to say..." He trailed off again before he crumbled up the paper bags, continued on from there, "I really respect Sheriff Wells. He died a hero, right? Ask anyone: everybody says he's a hero. But I'm just saying... I got a job to do."

"So does everyone, kid." Warren mumbled out, only somewhat interested in his story as he leaned into his chair.

The courier looked at him, surprised but continued, "I don't wanna lose it and nobody wants to lose a job, because it's not that easy to find a new job in Sharpwood, right? So..."

He was interrupted when Warren mumbled out, apathetically, "The money's right there in the envelope in front of you. Don't bother with the change."

The courier got the money from the envelope and put it in his inner coat pocket, "Mr. Graves, I..." He pauses, before continuing in his cheery tone, "Thank you! I just wanted to say that you don't need to call Mr. Sommers. I mean, he'll be yelling at me either way... I deserve it, right?"

Warren just exhaled through his nostrils and turned to the Courier, "Maybe. Anyway, thanks. I'll give you a good rating."

"Oh, thank you and I'll see you for your next call. Have a good day, Mr. Graves." The courier smiled and silently walked out of his cabin, closing the door behind him. Warren heard him entering his car and driving off, leaving the wanted man all by his lonesome.

Minutes of contemplating later, Warren got up and pulled out his laptop from his backpack, one of the few things he could get from his apartment before he fled from Detroit. He opened it up and waited for a second before he played some music over on his phone and poured himself a drink. By him was a photo of his family in a much happier time, Warren looked at it forlornly before reading aloud his email as he typed it.

"Dear Lisa, Trent, Max, Laura, and Vincent, I'd give anything to be sitting with you on the porch of our house, drinking some Daniels, talking and passing the day. I know you all have a lot of questions for me. A lot of unpleasant questions. It's not hard to hear them in my head, but it won't be so easy to find the right answers..."

Just as he was typing, the questions came to his head, and he answered them by typing them out for the email he was going to send to his family.

'Is it true what they're saying about you?'

"No. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. My only crime was the fact that I wasn't fast enough to stop it."

'Why did you flee from the authorities?'

"I ran because I didn't want to be killed in prison. You know what happens do rapists and pedophiles in prison; so, given that I'm the scapegoat for all those deaths, I doubt I'd live to see my day in court."

'Why did Hannah leave you?'

"Because she decided that I couldn't give her enough excitement, so she decided to become a hooker and give herself to a pimp. And I hope he gave her exactly what she wanted."

'Did you really have a relationship with that policewoman?'

"Kinda. For one, Hannah had already left by then. And it's a little strange to call a relationship between me and Jane Hendricks an affair if we only talked and I never slept with her. In any case, it's over as she wants me in prison."

'Why were you forced to resign from the police force?'

"I was so stressed out on an especially busy night, and I had too much to drink. Even though that couple I ran over survived, the station forced me to quit to avoid backlash from both the public and the press."

'How's your health?'

"I'm not complaining but I'm lonely. Maybe I'll make some friends here but I'm not holding out hope."

'Why'd you refuse to resign willingly?'

"Well, because I had nothing else to do. Despite getting a high paying job after I was fired, all I had was a TV, my manga collection, and my iPhone. Even then, I couldn't move to a better place because Dorian and his gang always forced me to give up my paychecks or they'd kill me. It was only a month after I was fired, and I was ready to put a gun in my mouth and pull the trigger."

'What are you afraid of?'

"I'm afraid I'll be caught, locked in a cage and put on display, like a circus freak. And the only power I'll have left is to bash my skull on the bars of my cell."

'What are you planning to do next?'

"I've changed a lot, though predictability is not still among my vices. I know I have to do something, but the only question is how far I'll have to go."

Warren paused and looked at what he's written, silently nodding and finishing it before transferring $4,000 from his bank account to his family. He then sent it through before closing his computer. Warren leaned back into his chair and motioned with his hand.

Suddenly, the groceries all flew into the cabinets, the bottles of whiskey and soda went into the fridge, and the bag of McDonalds floated from the counter to the table beside him.

(Oh, did I forget to mention that he's a Reality Bender? ** I did? Well, now you know.)

Warren just laid back in his chair and watched the snowstorm out the window as the day faded away.

Sharpwood Police Department

9:30PM

Lilly Reed, now Sheriff Lilly Reed due to chain of command, slowly exited her new office with an exasperated face. It was just her first day as Sheriff and already she was overwhelmed by all the work that was needed for the job. At this rate, she'd might as well get someone else to take the workload off her.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Jamie came close and asked, "Hey, Lilly! So, we are getting rid of this thing tomorrow?"

Lilly blinked, "Uh, what? We do what?"

"That drawing thing on the wall." Jamie clarified to her, obviously referring to Wells' tapestry, "We're taking it down tomorrow? I already called Uncle Dimitri; he'll cart it off for us. Might even make a couple bucks for it, if-"

"Whoa." The new sheriff cut him off before he could finish, "First, it's not a 'drawing.' It's a tapestry, okay? A beautiful work of art. Second, it's hanging there for a reason and third and most important, we-"

She was in turn cut off when another officer, Jessie, join in on the conversation, "Oh, you mean that drawing in the hall? Great! I'll get a hanger tomorrow, so we can put a TV up there! Maybe a DVD player too! What do you think?"

"Jessie, we're not taking down the tapestry." Lilly repeated but she was once again cut off.

"A TV? That's... that's not a bad idea, sure but I was thinking..." Jamie cut in, "Well, I thought we could put a snack machine there. I'm tired of having to drive twenty minutes over to Bad Ear's gas station for Twinkies in the middle of work. Like I've got nothing better to do, right?"

Another officer, Corey, joined in on the many that wanted the tapestry taken down, "Have you seen how much space that giant thing takes up? We can put a TV up, an arcade game, probably even a pinball machine." Corey then remembered something, "Speaking of which, my son moved in with his wife in Derry, so we've got an extra DVD player. Only thing is he took all his DVDs with him, so-"

"Oh, no. DVDs are no problem, I've got tons of DVDs!" Jessie added, "Plus, if we tell the guys that everyone's bringing in a couple of movies, then we-"

Having enough, Lilly cut them off, "Look, I just need you to-" Only for her to be cut off again by Jamie. It's clear that nobody respects her.

"Hey, what kind of movies you got?" Jamie asked, interested in maybe watching some B-Movies as nothing seems to happen in this town.

"All sorts! I got a bunch of Troma movies, the four Nightmare on Elm Street movies, Killer Klowns from Outer Space!"

Corey then cut in, "And have you got that movie where this pilot is flying around the Earth but he's running out of fuel over the ocean, so he makes a deal with Satan, and Satan sends him to fight an army of skeletons, and the skeleton general! I mean..." He stopped to laugh at the memories of that movie, "How the hell did they come up with that?!"

"I know!" Jamie agrees, "When that seen where he leapt towards the Devil with that flaming sword, my heart jumped out of my chest! No joke! Betty almost had to call an ambulance!"

"No fucking way!" The other two laughed.

As they were speaking and laughing about "The Winds Blow to Hell", Lilly just sighed, realizing that they weren't listening, and meekly muttered out, "Tomorrow. We'll just discuss it tomorrow." But none of them noticed, continuing their conversation even when she re-entered her new office. But when she got in, she saw that Gale was almost going off duty for the night.

"What the hell, Gale?!" Lilly yells, startling the man, "Sit back down and get ready to type! We agreed!"

The curly haired man with a five o'clock shadow had just finished putting on his beanie, "Lilly, we'll finish that damn letter of yours tomorrow. And if we're lucky, we'll even-"

"Gale, take off your stupid hat and get back to your desk!" Lilly yells, the stress and frustration finally getting to her, "I'm the sheriff, and you'll do what I say!"

"...Lilly, you do know you don't have to be such a bitch, you know?" Gale retorts but ultimately relents. He's right, she doesn't. But being a bitch seems to be the only way for people to listen to her, it seems.

The two walked back, Lilly sitting in her chair with Gale sitting back at the desk, the lamp shining down on a letter they were gonna send to one Captain Brit Carter for help in these most troubling times.

"Bad Ear's gas station closes in half an hour, so if we don't finish this stupid letter in the next ten minutes, I'll be out of smokes until the morning." Gale tried to weasel his way out of typing this, "And if that happens, I'll be coming to work in a bad mood tomorrow. And if I come to work in a bad mood, I-"

"Just shut up and type." Lilly cut him off, sick of all the excuses and wanting this to be done with just as much as him.

Gale put his hands up and relented, "Okay, I'm ready. And for god's sake, let's stop taking half an hour with every sentence, okay?"

"First, read what we've got so far." Lilly ordered.

Her friend did as such but in a mocking voice, "'Of course, we won't be able to pay you serious money, it's like we won't be able to pay you at all. But I hope that you fell the same as me; that the safety of our native town of Sharpwood is a question of duty and honor and not of material gain.'"

"No!" The new sheriff interrupted him, "Not just the last sentence! Read everything from the beginning!"

Gale groaned in annoyance, "Lilly, come on! We're-"

"Read it from the top." She orders sternly.

The officer just sighed and recited the letter in a high-pitched mocking voice, "'Dear Captain Carter! I imagine you've already heard the sad news that has prompted me to write you. I'll be frank: this letter you're holding is a plea for help. The police department of Sharpwood was deprived..." Gale then couldn't hold in his laughter and started cracking up as Lilly facepalmed at her subordinate's childishness.

"That's it! I can't take it anymore! We'll just pick up from where we left off!" Lilly snapped, causing Gale to just shrug and pull out his favorite pen before she abruptly asked, "Do you think Captain Carter will even read this?"

Gale just rolled his eyes. Most people who leave Sharpwood always find their way back, so of course Carter is gonna read it. He looked to the new sheriff and tried to somewhat reason, "Lilly, let's just finish it, and then-"

He was interrupted by Jamie who barged into the office, out of breath, "They got him! The guy from the flower shop, remember? He's one of the Neckties! We're sure this time!"

That most certainly got their attention, mostly Gale's as he asked while setting down his pen, "Where are they taking him? Are they bringing him here?"

"They already did! He's here!"

"Did he have the goods on him? Has he said anything?" Gale asked, desperate for something on the Neckties, "What... What does he know?"

"Well, you wanna find out or you just gonna sit there all day?" Jamie asked as he motioned for them to follow. The two looked at each other for a second before both immediately came to the unanimous decision to follow Jamie.

But when they got to the interrogation room where the suspect was held, Gale and Lilly saw that the man was almost unconscious and bloody. His head had cuts with the hair unkept and wet, some blood leaking from the mouth. The suspect appeared almost delirious, and half lidded, his suit was in tatters with tears and bloodstains all over. The eight other cops in the room almost were as surprised as them.

"What happened to him?" Lilly asked, with barely concealed anger.

Corey offered up what he knew, hoping so things could go smoothly, "Well, as far as I understand: He had a hard time getting into the car."

Suddenly, Charlie, a brown-haired officer who may be suffering from psychosis, chuckled, "Right. Didn't like getting out of the car either. And he really didn't like the stairs! And when we handcuffed him?" Charlie stopped to chuckle again, "Man, he did not like that at all! And then when he said down on a chair, he accidentally-"

"Cut the shit, Charlie!" Gale cut off the madman's rant in anger.

"What?" The mad cop questions with a smile, "The sheriff asked a direct question, and I'm trying-"

Lilly cut him off, reaching a decision in her head, "Get out! All of you!"

"Lilly, I think it'd be best if you just-" Gale tried to negotiate but she cut him off, wanting to prove herself to everyone here that she can be the sheriff.

"What's the problem, Gale?" She questioned her partner, "Isn't it best if the sheriff interrogates important suspects? Isn't it great when the commander takes a personal interest in the work? Don't you think?"

Gale was silent before nodding and motioning for the others to leave, "Okay, guys; you hear that? Let's get out of here." He sighed as the other officers vacated the room, leaving Lilly alone with the suspect. The red-haired woman closed the door behind her and sat down on a chair after pulling it to her side. The suspect was still silent, but he had an almost annoyed or amused look on his face.

According to the papers, this man was Wally Melton and he either had answers that she needed, or she was gonna force them out of him.

"I know it was somebody in your gang that murdered Sheriff Wells." Lilly said after a moment of silence, "Just tell me who pulled the trigger and maybe I'll let you go."

Melton just scoffed, "Even if I knew what you were talking about, I wouldn't tell you nothing." He then got a good look at her and gave a lecherous grin, "Now how about a kiss? All cops around here got lips sweet as you?"

Lilly just scoffed in disgust but asked her next question and not answer his out of spite, "As I understand it, you never keep drugs at your base... Why is that?"

"Why do you think I'm gonna talk to you?!" Melton snapped at her, "You can't even put two and two together! You even finish school? Maybe you should enroll in cooking classes or something."

Unable to keep her disgust in, she seethed, "Alright, you wanna play hard ball? We can play hard ball." Lilly left the interrogation room, seeing Gale and Charlie just standing outside, the latter having a brown suitcase.

"Charlie?" Lilly asked, her voice soft yet simmering with boiling anger.

Said man made a sound of interest.

"Make him scream."

Charlie looked surprised but then had an eager grin on his face that said it all. He quickly walked past her and entered the room, his intentions made clear even to a retarded man. But before Lilly could walk away as well, Gale stepped in front of her, his head down not in shame but in some emotion, "Lilly, I just want... I just want to..."

"You do understand, Gale, that this will soon be over?" Lilly interrupted him, though feeling a little guilty for doing so, "All of this. You understand that, right?"

"I know, Lilly... I know..." Gale said sadly.

The two shared a silent moment before she walked past him, saying, "I need to finish writing that letter to Captain Carter." Lilly walked away from him and out of the room back to her office while Gale just had a sad and bitter look on his face.

Warren's shack

9:45PM

The ex-cop turned fugitive just lingered in his shack, watching TV with a blank expression. They were talking about how he was still alive and all these ridiculous liberal conspiracy theories.

"It had been 3 weeks now since Warren Kallinger has been declared dead, yet many people are still believing he is alive and well." The anchorwoman reported, "Several people have this to say."

A slightly portly dark-skinned man said to a reporter, "Oh, he ain't dead. I saw him coming out of a bar a few weeks ago."

A woman holding her child in Petoskey said, "I saw him driving down my neighborhood in the middle of the night."

And an elderly man holding up a finger, his voice raspy, "I saw him breaking into my daughter's house."

It then went back the anchorwoman, "In related news, recently released information reveals that Kallinger originally was a rock star police officer and detective before one night on September 1st when he had run over a couple with his car while intoxicated. Though the couple survived, outcry ensued soon after with calls for Kallinger's removal. Kallinger refused to resign but Chief Dalton Halley forced his resignation one week later. Kallinger claimed to Halley that he was overly stressed from the job and wanted something to 'take the edge off.'

"Three weeks earlier, Kallinger's long time girlfriend, Hannah Sax, had left him and became a prostitute, which resulted in him starting a relationship with Jane Hendricks, a fellow police officer who'd transferred to Lansing a few days after Kallinger's Hit and Run. When questioned, Hendricks had this to say;"

Jane was then seen onscreen speaking to a reporter with an angry expression, "I don't give a crap about what you think about my relationship with Warren! But know this; Warren isn't dead. He's alive and I am going to hunt him down and bring him to justice if it's the last thing I do!"

It came back to the anchorwoman, "No further updates or sighting of Warren Kallinger have been reported since. I am Sondra Fuller, thank you and good night."

Warren just bitterly turned off the TV and leaned back against his chair. However, just as he was about to get a drink, he noticed something through the window of his cabin.

It was a long figure, standing in the snowstorm, unmoving and with no white breath in the wind. Warren couldn't make out any details, but he did see that they were wearing a trenchcoat with its flaps fluttering in the wind. He couldn't see a face, yet he could feel whatever was there staring down at him.

Scared and confused, Warren quickly shot to his feet and grabbed the Winchester rifle that he kept in his hands before running to the door and kicking it down. He was about to fire a warning shot and shout to whomever was out there to get out of his property when he saw that no one was there. Snow still fell like the majestic thing it was and will always be, but the figure was nowhere in sight to where it didn't seem like even the snow where he was standing in didn't leave a mark.

The ex-cop blinked owlishly, rubbing his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing anything before he walked back into his cabin and looked through the window. Still, he didn't see anything.

The figure had disappeared like it had never existed.

Confused beyond belief, Warren closed and locked the door to his cabin, set his Winchester down, and got a bottle of whiskey from the fridge. He then sat down on his couch and poured a drink to calm himself down. The liquid burned down his throat as he slowly drifted off to the sound of blazing snowstorm from beyond his old home.

Sharpwood Police Department

10:15PM

Lilly just hummed while listening to music and playing on her iPhone, around her were her co-workers just talking about whatever. All of them were silenced when Charlie and Gale exited the interrogation room. Lilly took off her headphones to listen for what they had to say.

"We could hardly shut the guy up!" Charlie laughed, "He wasn't so tough. I didn't even get to phase three~! Phase three is where I-"

Gale cut him off before he could go into any detail, "We don't have a lot of time; they're moving their headquarters. But we should be able to nab most of them if we hurry. It's north of here, the old summer camp. But they never keep their goods in their headquarters. They always use a different place, usually an isolated house on the outskirts. Most of the time these places have random tenants who don't even suspect that there's anything hidden under their floorboards. That way the drugs can ever be linked to the Neckties, or the Neckties to the drugs. Do you remember that little tavern called 'Forseti'? We went drinking there after graduation and broke that big mirror?"

"Yeah, I remember that." Charlie chuckled, remembering that day along with many of the officers there as most of them have been in Sharpwood for as long as they could remember.

"Well, Mr. Blanes converted it into a house, and now he rents it out for almost nothing." Gale continued, before he put up a finger, "But here's where it gets interesting: two weeks ago, a guy moved in. He said the guy's 27 or 28. And under his floorboards, there's at least twenty-seven kilograms of heroin."

"I'm starting to think that guy is leading us around by the nose." Charlie cuts, giving his own thoughts on the matter, "I'm betting there's four or five armed guards at the house. But you said it's a small place, right?" At seeing Gale nod in confirmation, he continued, "Well, I bet there's two at least. I don't believe they just left the stuff to under some frat boy's floorboards."

Some had to concede a point. The tenant would have noticed the drugs if he had been there for two weeks. You don't go that long in Sharpwood without either your pipes freezing up or some animals moving in. Lilly found that out the hard way when she got skunked in the third grade.

"Even if there is a guy living there, I bet that he's probably in on it." Charlie continued, thinking that even if the guy found the drugs, he'd likely kept quiet to either use them or trade them for money. "Hey, maybe he's got a nickname or something, what do you think? I bet he's a cutthroat, hunkered down there, ready to ambush us. Maybe he already-"

"Then you and Corey go check it out." Gale cuts him off and commands him, "Take two cars in case it's not just one guy living in the house. Whoever you find there, bring them in. And don't forget about the heroin. The rest of you will come with me to storm their headquarters."

They all nod before heading out.

Warren's shack

10:30PM

Warren just grumbled as he sat on his couch, trying to ease up until tomorrow where he'll start that investigation that the Emperor assigned him to. He just needed a few drinks to get himself into a better mood.

Suddenly, he heard a knock at the door.

He struggled to get up because of how drunk he had gotten when the person who was there knocked again. This time, Warren managed to get to his feet and walked to the door, only for it to be kicked open, causing him to fall down to his hands and knees.

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no!" Warren heard someone say, turn his head up to see two Sharpwood officers, one with brown hair and another one that seemed like he was bald but covered it with a hat.

"Look at this!" The brown-haired officer exclaimed, motioning all around him as he comes closer, "Just look, Corey!" He kicks the table that Warren was sandwiched between the couch, spilling the contents onto the floor, "They couldn't find anyone better to watch the goods? Or they just didn't bother? Or are we missing something?"

The brown-haired officer then turned to his partner, "What do you think, Corey? Think we're missing something? Eh? Is there some kind of special meaning that they got a filthy fucking drunk here to sit in the shack and watch the goods?" He motioned to Warren, who was still dazed from his drinks, "Maybe we need to 'crack the code' here, eh?"

"Well, any ideas on where they hid the powder, Charlie?" Corey asked.

"How about you look around, while I..." Charlie stopped to chuckle, "While I interrogate the suspect, eh?"

Corey just walked off to search the house while Charlie grabbed Warren by the shirt and pulled him to his feet before walking him to another table and slamming his head onto it. The deranged cop then put the barrel of his gun to Warren's head and cocked back the barrel.

"You..." He sucked in a deranged breath before continuing, "What's your name, punk?"

Warren just mumbled something incoherently. The mad officer just pushed the barrel harder onto his skull.

"What did you say, punk?" Charlie questions, sounding close to snapping, "You need to answer nice and clearly when a POLICE OFFICER speaks to you."

"My name is... Jack." Warren lets out, his voice somewhat slurred, "Jack Graves."

The officer chuckled, getting uncomfortably close to Warren's ear, "I'll tell you something, Jack Graves. Fifteen years on the force, I've seen all sorts of dirty shits. This little town isn't exactly upscale in case you haven't noticed. I've caught thieves, rapists, murders, and drug traffickers..." He emphasized that by hissing that into his ear, "All part of the job, you know? I'm doing my job, nice and easy, like a professional."

Charlie then got closer, almost seething with fury, "But here you are this... this filth you're..." Warren could swear he heard the officer's teeth cracking from the pressure of how hard he was gritting them, "You don't make it easy to be easy. Filth like you drives me up the wall. With scum like you, I can't... I just can't keep up the cold-blooded professional attitude. I just can't!" His voice got louder, "You know why, Jack? Because-!"

He was cut off when the phone began to ring. Not his iPhone but an old rotary phone that was near them.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Jack." Charlie's voice was then suddenly frighteningly level, "I'll be just a second, all right?"

The officer then proceeded to kick the phone off the stand before shooting it twice. His partner jumped at this, yelling in exasperation, "Charlie, what the hell?! Do you want to-"

Charlie cut him off, utterly screaming in impotent fury, "Cory? Just look for the fucking drug while I'm busy with the fucking suspect! Okay?!" Warren raised his head slightly, but the deranged officer forced him back down to the table with the barrel to his temple.

"So, Jack, filthy things like you. You drive me nuts." He didn't skip a beat in continuing his tirade, practically itching the trigger with his finger, "Cause you think that we'll never catch up with you. You think the police can't do anything. You think we just rescue cats from trees and help old broads carry their bags up to the porch. You think, you believe- You really... really believe that we'll never get to you. So, you don't even have to try."

He stared shouting, even as Warren closed his eyes, ready to die just to get rid of this killer headache the man was causing him, "You taking care of the goods here, Jack? You ready for us here, Jack? Just waiting for an ambush, Jack? YOU DID FUCKING NOTHING, JACK! FUCKING! NOTHING! Because you thought we'd never come. But here I am, Jack! HERE FUCKING I AM! What are you gonna do now, Jack? What's the big plan, Jack?!"

Just before things could get any uglier, Corey yelled out, hoping to prevent any more bloodshed, "Hey, I think I found something!"

Charlie scowls at being interrupted, but yells to Warren who was barely paying attention at this point, "You hear that, Jack? He found something. Next time? HIDE! IT! BETTER!" He pistol-whipped the drunk man across the head, knocking him out cold. The maniac of an officer panted from his yelling, staring at the unconscious body of his suspect before shaking his head and walking off to where Corey was at.

The other officer was at the storage room of the shack and there, the floorboards were open, revealing several bags that were actually filled with cocaine instead of heroin. Just as Charlie walked in and looked down on the bags, Corey asked him, "Well, does this look like twenty-seven keys of heroin to you?"

"I..." Charlie stopped to pant for a second, more than a little parched from all his yelling, "I would say there's somewhere between twenty-six to twenty-eight keys."

Corey blinked in confusion, looking down on the bags and then back at his partner, "Well, that sound like twenty-seven, right?"

"Yep..." Charlie deadpanned, still somewhat out of breath, "Yep, looks like twenty-seven. So, what are we thinking here?" He motioned to the cars outside or the living room, "You load it all up in the car and I'll pack up the drunkard. And any of this other junk we might need."

Charlie just walked away barely interested in the bags, leaving Corey alone to pack up the drugs.

1 hour later...

Sharpwood Police Station

11:30PM

Warren's eyes slowly fluttered open before putting a hand to his head while groaning in pain from the cocktail of his hangover and that pistol-whip from that damn hot-blooded bastard. He sat up, only to find himself in a cell and that a ginger haired woman was sitting by a desk, wearing a Sharpwood police uniform, beige dress shirt with a green necktie, dark green pants, and black boots. She was looking through papers of a blue folder with a steaming mug of coffee or hot chocolate.

'Ah, no. Ah, shit!' Warren thought as the situation caught up to him. He just got arrested because of the drugs under his floorboards. God, why did he agree to having those guys in suits store those bags there?! Then again, they did pay him $15,000 and he needed money if he was gonna rent a car to investigate Sharpwood. Still though, in the long run, not a good idea cause here he was.

Needing to get out of here, the undercover ex-cop got to his feet and walked to the edge of the cell, trying to get the woman's attention, "I'd like... I really need to talk to the sheriff as soon as possible, please."

That did get her attention, but she didn't look up from the folder, "I'm Sheriff Reed. You can talk all you like, but if I were you, I'd wait for my lawyer, Mr. Graves."

Warren blinked and made a series of confused sounds before he managed to coherently say, "You said you're the sheriff."

"That's what I said." Lilly replied, still not looking at him.

"No, I meant..." Warren fumbled his words due to his confusion on how someone so young would be the sheriff, "Are you Sharpwood's sheriff?"

She repeated in a tad more annoyed, "I'm the sheriff."

"Well, do you have the authority to-?"

That caused her to put the folder down and look at him, her face very much set to annoyed and tired, "Look, I am wearing a shiny star on my chest, I'm sitting alone here in the middle of night, and even though I'm exhausted, I'm poring over murder files that no one else wants to bother with! So, yes! I'm the sheriff! I may not be used to all this and not sure I ever will be. But I don't have another sheriff for you, Mr. Graves! You might as well accept it!"

Warren blinked at her outburst but shook it off and mumbled, trying to get himself out of this, "Listen... There's been a mistake, and I want to help you because... I... because-"

"There was a huge batch of cocaine hiding in your house." Lilly interrupted his pleads, "You want me to believe you didn't know anything about it?"

"Well, they paid me to say nothing but-" Warren admitted before pretending to pause, framing it as if a new detail had just sunk into his head, "Wait... that was cocaine? They told me those bags were filled with an old flour- Look, that's not important. Look, Sheriff Reed, you have to listen to me very carefully. I'm a policeman. Just like you."

"Oh, you must be under cover. Is that it, Mr. Graves?" The snark made it easy to see that she didn't believe him.

"No, no, that's... It's much more complicated than that." Warren sighed and decided to let the cat out of the bag, "My name isn't Jack Graves. I-"

He was interrupted by Lilly, who replied, "Yeah, I already knew that. Your fake documents were so bad, they practically fell apart in my hands."

"If you let me explain, I'll-" Warren decided enough is enough, he held out a key for her to take for the humidor on her desk that had his best documents, "Just take this, open the humidor there on the table, and I'll explain everything."

Lilly shook her head, "I don't need to; a 28-year-old man that supposedly died three weeks ago, only for a man matching his description (to an extent anyway) to move into a secluded shack in a small town far away from every major city in state. Sound pretty familiar?

The man in the cell had his jaw to the floor at that. His eyes were wide and his expression of dumbfound said all that needed to be said. Was it really that obvious that it was him? He took so much care.

"Who are you really, Mr. Graves?" Sheriff Reed asked rhetorically, one of her eyebrows raised as if she already knew who he was.

Warren sputtered but sighed, realizing there was no point in lying, "My real name is Warren Kallinger, Sheriff Reed."

The sheriff sighed, pulling out a paper that had his mugshot, "I thought so. I found it while digging through the most wanted list. You've caused quite a stirrup, Mr. Kallinger."

"Look, I promise I didn't set off those bombs." Warren practically begged while gripping the bars of his cell. "The whole media is stacked against me! Everyone's just looking for a scapegoat to pin everything on!"

"Regardless, you do realize I have to report you to the Feds right, Mr. Kallinger?" Lilly replied, undeterred.

"Sheriff Reed, please, if you do this, then..." Warren trailed off, flustered and trying to convince her otherwise to help him, "You just continue this... cycle of media scapegoating and blaming that people can't see the end of... I believe I can help! I want to help! I believe cops should help each other! I'm begging you please!"

Lilly had a conflicted expression that Warren immediately took advantage of and then seeing the blue folder, getting an idea, "That murder file. I can help with it, trust me! I was a detective for years! If you're having trouble with the case, I'm sure I can help. Cops should help each other!"

The sheriff still looked conflicted, "You... You think that I-" He interrupted her before she could go any further.

"Listen, Sheriff Reed, what do you have to lose?" Warren bargained to the sheriff, hoping that he'll get lucky, "You're the head of this police department, you've got to think rationally. I'm not trying to teach you how to do your work, I'm just- Well, for a minute, let's forget out this situation; you have an unsolved murder and there's someone who's offering and willing to help. Maybe I'm an imposter, and I can actually do anything. Maybe I'll even turn out to be a lunatic and I'll scatter the file around the cell before I dance around it like a monkey on cocaine. But maybe- just maybe! - I really am a very experienced cop who can help you find your killer."

He gripped the bars of his cells like his life depended on it, "Don't you wanna give me a chance, since you've got nothing to lose? Don't you want a real criminal in prison, not some sorry victim of circumstance like me? That's police work: catching the real criminals, right?"

Warren could see the gears in her head turning, her face wooden and he eyes steady on him, but they said all that was to be said. Lilly looked at the folder in her arms and then back at the man in the cell, staring at him for what felt like hours.

"...I guess I'm going crazy." Lilly sighed and handed him the folder through the bars of his cell. Warren gave a smile as he took it and looked through the contents while thinking about how this case would go.

Suddenly, a male voice came through her walkie talkie, "Lilly, it's Gale. Come in."

Raising an eyebrow, Lilly unholstered her radio and spoke into it, "Lilly, here. "

"Can you grab the box of flashbangs and get over here? We're ready to go." The male voice spoke again.

The sheriff was silent for a moment, her gaze kept on Warren before replying, "Sure, I'll be there in a minute."

"Roger." Lilly replied before she then looked back to Warren in his cell, "Look, I'll be back in a few hours. The other officers are planning a raid on the Neckties' headquarters. If you manage to cobble something while I'm gone, I might consider letting you go."

Since that was as good a deal as any, Warren nodded and looked at the folder just as she left. The case was some freak in a wrestling mask kidnapping people and mutilating them. Thankfully, it was easy to figure out; turns out that the wife of a butcher was responsible. From what was in her file, apparently her husband said that she would stare at him while he would cut up meat for packaging. It would creep him out.

When he got that done, he just set it down and laid back against his cell and played on his iPhone, which they had forgotten to take from him. There, he would just look on his phone and wait for Lilly to come back. She'll see the good work he did, he'll get out, he'll be able to use the police force in his investigation of the town, get rid of the Chaos Corruption in whatever form it took, call the Emperor, and maybe clear his name. Then hopefully everything would go back to normal. A fleeting hope but a hope none the less.

But a few hours later, Warren heard a chorus of yelling coming from the other room. He turned and saw through the nearby window that a group of officers were trying to resuscitate a bloodied officer. He got to his feet and walked to the edges of his cell for closer look as he saw Lilly desperately attempting CPR before some officers grab her shoulders to tell her something, judging by her tearstained face and her screaming, she probably screamed no and keep trying.

The officers pull Lilly off him and keep telling her that he's dead. Lilly just has a wooden yet tearstained face as one officer just puts a hand on her sympathetically, but she shrugs him off and tells them something that he didn't hear as she enters her office, with the other officers looking at her in pity. Lilly just entered her office and just stood there in saddened silenced for many moments with tears streaming down her cheeks and with Warren watching, genuinely concerned for her.

Then, with tears streaming harder, she screamed at the top of her lungs and swiping all the stuff off her desk.

Not seeing or caring that Warren jumped in shock and surprise at that, Lilly started bang her head on a nearby wall across from his cell before abruptly stopping and slid down on her back, sobbing hysterically. Warren tried to reach his hand out to comfort her, but paused as he didn't know what to say, retracting his hand and letting her sob.

After a few minutes, Lilly somewhat calmed down, but she still wept silently. Warren, now sitting and after a second to work up the courage, asked her quietly, "What was his name? I mean... I mean the deceased officer, what was his name?"

"Gale." She whimpered, pulling her legs closer to her chest, "Gale Greenberg."

"...Were you close?" Warren gently asked what may be a pretty triggering question for the poor woman.

Lilly seemed to shrink into herself, somehow looking even more sorrowful than before, "No, but... No. We... We went to school together."

Warren tries his luck again, "Sheriff Reed, I-"

He was cut off when Lilly tearfully chuckled in self-loathing, "'Sheriff Reed', HA! 'Sheriff Reed.' If my father could hear those words, he would die of laughter. He'd laugh like a madman, choke on his favorite meatballs even. 'Sheriff Reed...'" She fell silent afterwards before muttering into his cell, "Call me Lilly. I don't deserve to be called Sheriff."

Warren was given pause but slowly nodded his head in understanding.

The two were silent again for several moments before Lilly broke it, "My aunt lived in Detroit. She... She sold flowers. Had her own little store. My mother and I used to visit during the summer... You have warm summers in Detroit. Warmer than here."

He just chuckled, "Anywhere is warmer than here."

Lilly chuckled too, glad to have some levity in this moment of her life. She went silent again before asking him the million-dollar question, "So, what happened in Detroit, Mr. Kallinger?"

"It's... That's a very... Well, I..." Warren tried to explain but he trailed off before chuckling slightly and saying, "I'm sorry... Forgive me, Lilly. I begged you for a chance to tell you everything and now I don't know where to start."

"You were framed?" Lilly asked him.

"Yeah, that's..." Warren paused and laid back against his cell, an expression of tiredness and solemn crossed his face "That's basically what happened. I was a ex-cop turned bellhop in the wrong place, at the wrong time, and now because of the goddamn media... My life is ruined."

Lilly said nothing to that but slowly got up from the floor and walked over to his cell, and gave him a desperate and pleading look, "Warren, I know you were almost police chief before you were fired, so please... just say something to help. Anything, please..."

The ex-cop just eyed her for a second before standing up, putting his hands around the bars, "Look, Lilly... I was a cop for almost 10 years, and I can't say that I never... Well, it's a difficult job. It gets complicated. And you don't have the experience to be put in this position because... Well-"

"Don't be shy, Mr. Kallinger." Lilly dropped her head, agreeing with every negative thing he might say to her even though he hadn't said it yet, "I don't make much of a Sheriff. Is that what you were going to say?" Before Warren could disagree, she continued, "Because I completely agree with you."

"Lilly, look." Warren tried to give her some comfort, as he'd seen many detectives and cops go in a downward spiral because of the job, "I was a policeman. Whatever position I'm in now, whatever this is... Whatever status they assigned me, I'm still a policeman. I'm a policeman and I know how to do the job, and I can and will help you. Cops should help each other, isn't that what I was saying earlier? Don't you agree with me?"

Lilly just stared unblinking for several moments in contemplation, her eyes still red from crying and her face wooden from the thoughts going through her brain. Then she unholstered her revolver and her keys before unlocking his cell. Warren backed away as she leveled the gun to his chest just after she pushed the cell doors open and walked in.

"What was it you said, Mr. Kallinger?" Lilly echoes what he said earlier, "Maybe you're an imposter, maybe you're crazy but... Maybe..." She couldn't finish because of how exhausted she was from the whole experience of the day.

"Lilly... why are you pointing that gun at me?" Warren asked, his hands slightly up as to not provoke a reaction.

The new sheriff just had an absolutely exhausted expression as she nodded and holstered the gun before walking back to her desk and picking up what she had swiped off in her need to vent her turmoil. Warren was silent while watching her.

"...Can I get out of this cage?" He asked her.

Lilly said nothing, picking up his unopened humidor and the empty mug of coffee or hot chocolate whose contents were now on the floor, staining the other papers and items brown and wet.

"Lilly?" Warren gently pressed.

She finally responded with a submissive, "Yes, Mr. Kallinger. Yes, you can get out of the cage."

The ex-cop nodded and quietly walked out of the cage, stopping at Lilly who was still picking things up from the floor. Warren hemmed and hawed for a bit looking around the room before focusing on her.

"You... you want me to..." He stopped and cleared his throat, "Well, I guess I should ask; you want me to get to work? What is it that you want me to do exactly?"

"You can get some sleep in the break room. There are a few beds there for on calls. It's ever there to the left. The green door." Lilly got up and pointed to the door in question, "I'll still be here in the morning. And in the morning, we... Well, we'll figure this out."

Warren nodded before asking, "Say, Lilly-"

"What?" The sheriff quietly interrupted him, "You want to know if I'm going to call the feds?" She shook her head, "No. I won't call the feds. Do I realize this means I'm breaking the law? Yeah, I know. Do I understand that you could make I run for it any time? Yeah, I know that too."

"...Alright." Warren just shrugged and held out his hand for her to take. That wasn't at all what he was gonna ask her, but he wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Lilly just stood up and took his hand, sealing their agreement. Hook, line, and sinker.

"I'll see you in the morning." Warren told her before he walked out of her office, leaving her by her lonesome.

The sheriff only watched as he closed the door behind him before resuming her task. Just after that, she looked at the wanted poster for the man that she was now helping, wondering if this would backfire on her.

November 22

8:30PM

Warren managed to get up in time just as the other officers were arriving. At first, they almost arrested him because he was out of his cell, but Lilly intervened before they did anything, explaining that there was a misunderstanding and that Warren was an undercover officer who was investigating the Neckties but because his cover's been blown, he's now gonna work here. The other officers were confused but went along with it as at least they had some more help now.

"Any other questions?" Lilly inquired, just as they were finishing the meeting.

One officer, Cliff, randomly asked Warren, "So how long you been working undercover?"

"Since February." He lied, the ironic being is that in February of this year, he was dealing a drug bust just like here.

Cliff then asked again, "So... you're like our new sheriff now, huh?"

Before Warren could answer that question, Lilly interjects before any assumptions could be made, "Mr. Graves will partly take over management of the department. So, some of you will now be his subordinates." She then gave Cliff a smug smirk, "Bad news, Cliff, I'm still the sheriff."

If Cliff was annoyed, he didn't show it as he just nodded his head respectfully. Lilly let the smirk falter as she supported her head with her hand before speaking again, "Well, if you understand everything and there's no more questions, then let's-"

Another officer cut in with one last question, stammering for second with his hand up, "Wait, I have a question: When are we gonna take that thing down?" He asked while pointing at the tapestry that was stilling hanging up on the wall.

"I meant questions for Mr. Graves." Lilly corrected herself, putting her hand down and with an annoyed tone and expression.

"Then I have a question for Mr. Graves." The officer corrected himself and them asked Warren the same question, "Mr. Graves, when are we taking that thing down?"

He shrugged and turned to Lilly, and asked "When are we taking that thing down?"

"We're not taking it down!" The sheriff replied with a tone of finality.

Warren then turned to the officer and shrugged while jokingly saying, "Sorry, bud. Looks like it's staying up."

The officer snapped his fingers in frustration and the others just shake their heads before Lilly yells, "Alright, that's enough! Everybody, back to work!"

Everyone else rolled their eyes and walked out of the room while Warren stayed behind. When they all left, Warren looked at and walked over to the tapestry everyone was talking about: a massive one that covered the whole wall, a forest in various shades of blue and purple for the trees and rocks respectively, a red-haired man or woman passing through with their hands to their head, as if in distress. But what was near them made the reaction justifiable.

These odd... things were standing near the person; tall emaciated and lanky humanoids with curved spines, white long stringy hair that covered the head and shoulders, and deer-like heads with massive black antlers.

Lilly walked up beside him as he was staring at the tapestry, staying silent for a moment before she began explaining to Warren, "It was Sheriff Wells who hung that tapestry here. He said that... He said he made me his first deputy because I was the only one who understood what it says."

Warren hmphed, seeing what the tapestry said, "Well, now there's two of us."

The two of them separated as they got to work. However, before he did, Warren looked to where Lilly went off to and then walked into the office and asked Jamie who was beside the coffee machine, "Hey, am I the only one who that tapestry really fucking creepy?"

Jamie just shook his head, as he picked up his mug, "No, bud. That... That thing gives me the creeps. Lilly keeps it up because of Wells, and I get the sentimental value, but... I don't know... I just get the creeps whenever I look at it."

Warren only nodded as he walked into his office and began his workday assigning officers for whatever crimes were going on. There he got introduced to the cops on duty for him; Pierce Rosencrantz, Ari Aaronovich, Leo Bradhi, Wes Titus, Art Climsy, Vigil Burch III, Sondra Spurlock, Vanessa Flowerpotts, Mikola Muzyka, Locke Mustard, Kamatari Kurosawa, and Benedict Belmont.

They seemed to like him, but he liked Bradhi because of his penchant for wearing old school uniforms to work. Warren found it charming, so he allowed it.

So far, not so bad; it was just some disorderly conduct with a man pissing on other cars in a bar parking lot. One of the cops managed to trick him into help out with a fake fire so they could arrest him.

Next was an attempted robbery with a girl who was attempting to steal an urn filled with the ashes of her beloved. Thankfully, they managed to convince her to come to an understanding with her beloved's parents. Turns out she wanted to destroy the ashes of her girlfriend as a part of her final wish.

The third was some guy impersonating a cop for some money. When they arrived, he fled but was then shot in the back when Kurosawa intended to fire a warning shot, killing him instantly. Not the first time something like that happened, but he reprimanded Kurosawa.

So far, nothing was of note, but Warren wrote down all of the crimes that he had to report in a notebook as a means to track and find any leads for Chaos Corruption, but so far, it seemed fine.

November 23

9:00PM

Warren hummed as he walked into the station for another day at work. So far, he didn't turn up anything unusual besides for crimes in this small town but a lot of his investigations took time, so he was gonna wait for something to show or someone to slip up.

Though, maybe there was something that he was missing, something that he hadn't seen yet or maybe slipped by him during his workday. But as he went on, there was this feeling that he couldn't identify but also couldn't shake.

That said, one problem he had were the cops themselves. Mustard and Spurlock were sexist, a third of them were drunks, and Kurosawa... had issues with impulsiveness. Especially because he got a call that the bullet was lodged into the guy's spine.

Still, it wasn't the first time he had to work with bad officers, so he could take it.

It was then that he notices Lilly was moving stuff over to the office that he was working in yesterday.

"Um, did I miss something?" Warren asked her, stopping her just as she was moving more stuff into his office.

"No, no. I just wanted to move into the office that where you were working yesterday." She replied to him.

Warren looked puzzled, "You... You're moving to a smaller office?"

"I'm moving where I'm more comfortable." Lilly clarified, pointing at the office where she used to work, "That's the office I used to share with Gale. It's... Yeah, it's probably too big for me. But it'll be just right for you."

"Can I help?" He offered.

"No. No, I don't like it when people paw at my stuff." Lilly declined, "You go get a bite to eat, I'll be finished in like twenty minutes. I can handle this." She then looks down bitterly, "At least, I can handle this."

"Okay then, I..." He shrugged, "I'll go down to the dining hall then. Call me if you need me!"

She nodded just as he walked off to the dining hall for some food and maybe some hot chocolate, but when he got in, he was greeted by the presence of Charlie Fletcher once again.

"Ah, Mr. Graves!" Came the voice of the officer that almost killed him, "Glad we have a chance to get acquainted again, this time under better circumstances, eh? Our first meeting didn't go so smooth."

He stopped to chuckle while Warren remained unresponsive, "You really must forgive me, Mr. Graves for being so rude to you... It was rude of me to arrest you! You've got to admit, you don't really look like an undercover cop."

Warren scoffed as he filled a mug with hot chocolate, somewhat amused, "You got me there."

Charlie laughs, looking to his amused friends while motioning to Warren, "Even he admits it!" He laughed again before continuing, "But I didn't hit you too hard, even if you're still in your thirties. I'm not some kind of monster."

The white-haired cop just rolled his eyes as he drunk from his mug of hot chocolate. He's almost 29, he wasn't 30 just yet. Sure, his birthday is on the 19th next month but still. Meanwhile, the officers look at Charlie in disapproval as they remember that he once beat up a guy who bumped into him and made him drop a Coca-Cola.

"I didn't mean to offend anyone," Charlie had his hands up in a placating manner, "You really shouldn't be offended. We're all grownups here, why be offended? Why are you offended, Mr. Graves? I've gotta say, Mr. Graves, for all your claims, I expected more from you. You seem like the kind of guy who sits behind the desk doing paperwork. Am I right, Mr. Graves?"

Just as he finished his mug, Warren turned around, walked directly to where Charlie was standing, and looked him directly in the eyes, calmly saying, "Charlie. Have you ever heard of disciplinary action?"

Before Charlie could respond, Warren grabbed him by both sides of his head and kneed him in the face. The other cops jumped from their seats at that but not could intervene as Warren then grabbed Charlie by the shoulders and kneed him the gut five times before he threw the officer to the floor, grabbing a chair by the legs and began beating him with it.

With each strike, the chair broke. First the back, then the seat, then the legs, until the whole thing was a mess of wood resting in his hands. When Warren was finally finished, he panted as he stared at Charlie before letting go of the ruined chair. Charlie stared back at him, wide eyed and bloodied, coughing up blood and panting in pain as he still tried to absorb what just happened. He attempted to push himself up but collapsed onto the floor, unconscious from the pain from the beating.

Everyone else in the room were silent with shock as Warren walked out of the room without another word before Corey just said as he looked at Charlie's beaten and bloodied body which was still unconscious from the beating, "You gotta admit... Charlie was really asking for it."

All the other cops just slowly nodded before they got back to what they were doing before that just happened. But not before Corey and Jessie took Charlie to the medic for his injuries. Warren watched in apathy as they dragged him off to the nurse's office while he walked into his new office.

It was rather spacious, housing a desk, a bookshelf, a radio to relay to dispatch, and an entire model of the city. That was lucky because he could now pinpoint where to send the officers. It was then that Warren noticed that a basket of muffins was set on his desk with a letter beside it.

Warren, bemused, sat down on his desk and opened the letter.

The letter read; "Mr. Graves, I sent this to your office as thanks for yesterday. If your officers hadn't convinced my daughter's girlfriend to give up her ashes, I don't know how I'd go on. Thank you, Mary Cragg."

Only a few things that were worth noting when he was working though, Belmont came into his office and said that there was corpse that was found by a ditch. Warren told him to let the guys at the morgue take care of it and to take care of it quickly before it smells.

The next thing was when a report for gunshots came in from an old woman who claims she heard someone firing. Turns out that, the shots were just backfires from the old woman's neighbor's moped. He modified it to run on a mixture of alcohol and manure. When they questioned him, he answered, "Have you seen the price of diesel?! I don't need it if I've got to pay that much!"

How he managed to modify it to run on that fuel was something that he wrote down. But when he looked up the neighbor's files, it showed him that he even barely graduated high school, much less get a degree in engineering. Maybe he was approached by Hashut in a dream or someone who was in league with him.

Next was a child abduction with a junkie that was attempting to pawn off a stroller from a distraught mother for more drugs. Turns out he didn't realize that there was a baby still in the stroller. That he was willing to go to any lengths to get sensation was something that he also jotted down. Could be the beginnings of a Slaaneshi but he wasn't sure yet.

The day ended up a good day but then Lilly called him to her office.

November 25

1:00AM

Lilly read the report of something on a shipment being delayed for a while before the door to her office opened to reveal Warren entering, his features uncaring and wooden.

"So, you wanted to talk to me?" Warren asked her.

"Yeah, it's urgent, Warren." Lilly told him, standing up from her desk and sitting on the edge of it, "As far as I understand, you had some kind of altercation with Charlie Fletcher in the dining hall this morning. Doctor Kanayan called me and said that he was gonna be fine in a couple, it was nothing serious. But I don't want this happening again, alright?"

"Fine, but..." Warren initially agreed but forced himself to admit his true feelings, "Look, I gotta be honest; I can't promise you that, Lilly."

Lilly seemed surprised that, crossing her arms while narrowing her eyes in disbelief, "I... I don't understand..."

"Look, Lilly, I get that Sharpwood is nothing like Detroit," Warren explained his reasons, "But, still: a lot of the cops here are either slackers, bums, adrenaline junkies, sexists, sadists, or even psychopaths. Not showing what happens if you step out of line is why they don't respect you. I don't mean to hurt your feelings, but I have more experience in this than you, I know what I'm doing."

"But Warren, there are boundaries." Lilly insisted, "I get it too, I get frustrated when they don't listen to my orders, but I have to respect their thoughts and feelings in the matter. I, as the sheriff, draw those boundaries, okay? I respect your experience, I do, but I just want to say there are rules that must be respected, and I believe that these rules are an integral part of this department. I believe we've understood each other and there won't be any more problems, right?"

Exhaling through his nostrils, Warren decided no more playing games as he walked to the window of the office and stared at the mountain range and full moon before asking Lilly, "Why am I here?"

Lilly blinked, "What?"

"Why. Am. I. Here?" He repeated his question, punctuating his words for emphasis.

The sheriff seemed confused by his question before answering, "Because I asked you to come and talk, and I-"

"No. Not in your office but in general. Here." Warren clarified, looking at her with a questioning expression, "What am I doing here? Why haven't you called the Feds yet? Why am I not in a cage waiting to be taken? Why am I here, Lilly?"

"Because you..." She trailed off, getting a little nervous as she sat back down on the chair at her desk, "Got into a difficult situation, and now-"

"I'm helping you steer the department." He interrupted her, walking away from the window and slowly edging closer to her desk, "I could run, I might go to prison, but I'm here. Why am I here, Lilly?"

"W-Warren, you're scaring me." She tried to say, but her voice was more of a whimper that a statement.

"Why, Lilly? It's a simple question and the answer is also simple." Warren pressed as he got closer to her desk, "Why am I here?"

"Warren, I don't-"

"It's strange, isn't it?" He cut her off, "Some bearded guy with fake documents strikes up a conversation with you and suddenly he's becoming the sheriff's right-hand man. Actually, doing all the work of the Sheriff. How does that happen, Lilly? Come on, tell me!"

Her head was down, as Warren hovered over her, fists clenched and his eyes like daggers as he says his question one final time, "Why am I here?" Lilly seemed like she was hyperventilating, unable to look away from his piercing red eyes as he says.

"Do you have an answer?" Lilly was about to stutter and shout it out when Warren interrupted her, "Well, then scrap that answer. It's not why I'm here."

She blinked in confusion, before he abruptly grabbed a blank sheet of paper from her desk, then walked back to the window and drew on it with a pen. When he was finished drawing, Warren then walked back to his desk and handed her the paper. The sheriff was perplexed by the thing drawn on the paper, a jagged emblem that she could only describe as an eight-pointed star.

"Lilly, you're gonna have to trust me on this." Warren explained as she continued to examine the emblem on the paper, "Believe me, I've seen shit that'll turn you as white as the goddamn snow."

The look of surprise on her face was palpable but he continued, not giving her time to get a word in, "There are things so bizarre and fucked up that have popped up ever since that incident in Megaville that'll make David Lynch's Eraserhead seem like easy to follow. As such, someone who's been working on containing these things contacted me and told me to investigate your town for any signs of these things popping up."

Lilly had a hard time wrapping her head around this, barely able to stutter in confusion.

"You're confused, I get it. So, just follow this one rule:" Warren pressed his pointer hard onto the eight-pointed star, "If you ever see this emblem, report it to me and I'll take care of it. And afterwards, don't think about this emblem. Don't ask me any questions on this emblem. And then forget about this symbol. Block it out and mentally condition yourself so that whenever you see this," He tapped his finger hard on the eight-pointed star again, "You avert your eyes and your mind to it. No matter how curious you get, no matter how much it hurts to do so, and no matter how much it weighs on your head, if you see this emblem: call me, then turn away and never look back until I've dealt with it."

Warren paused to take a deep breath, before he finished with, "Are we clear?"

Lilly just had the most confused, scared, curious, and bewildered expression he'd ever seen, slowly nodding her head to his tirade. "Yeah... I think."

The white-haired man nodded, "Okay, good. I'll see you in the morning."

He then walked out of her office without another word, leaving the shaken sheriff alone to divulge in what just happened.

November 26

Lansing Police Department

3:20PM

It was a hectic morning for the Lansing Police Department, because they just got confirmation that Warren Kallinger was still alive. A camera feed from him near a warehouse in Dearborn where he had entered and exited before the cops had arrived, via a concerned neighbor who reported seeing someone in a truck come in and come out of an abandoned warehouse.

Naturally, the media was all in on it.

"Warren Kallinger was confirmed alive, later this morning after a camera caught him entering a warehouse and fleeing in a stolen truck." Sondra Fuller reported as the screen then showed Warren's mugshot, with him glaring menacingly at the camera, "The former police officer is suspected to be responsible for the Detroit Bombing, which resulted in the deaths of over 68,000 people and the injuries of over 1,000 others. Locals have given him the moniker, 'The Angel of Death' for how many lives he had taken."

It then showed him hastily exiting the warehouse before getting into a stolen truck and then driving away.

"In light of Kallinger's survival, the FBI has begun a statewide search for Warren Kallinger. As of yet, nothing has been confirmed. I am Sondra Fuller, and this is Channel 5 news."

Jane Hendricks turned off her phone in disgust as she walked to the conference room with her partner Dan. At her request, they had brought Kallinger's family in for questioning much to the disbelief of some of the officers, but the chief granted it as the FBI had requested all police stations in state to investigate Warren Kallinger's whereabouts.

The other officers voiced their concerns, saying that they must be devastated at hearing that he might have done this, and while Kallinger deserved to die, his family had nothing to do with his actions. Jane was unconvinced and went through with it anyway.

"Look, try to take it easy on this people, Jane." Dan tried to convince his stubborn as hell partner to reconsider as they walked to the office, "They learned that someone they never talked to for years is the main suspect in the Bombing of Detroit, the biggest terrorist attack on American soil since 9/11."

"And it's all the more reason for us to question them." Jane waved off, undeterred and unfazed by his pleads, "We need as much intel as we can get for Kallinger and his family is the first place to start."

"I know, but to bombard them with questions while they're wrestling with the fact that he could be the culprit..." Dan tried to reason with her again, "I mean, shouldn't we go easy on this? I mean, they lost a family member."

Jane glared at him, "I'll take it easy when we have Kallinger behind bars, ready to be executed." She then stopped both herself and him in the empty hall and asked him directly, tired of him wasting her time, "Look, why are you arguing with me on this?! You wanna catch him as much as I do!"

"Yeah, but you've become obsessed with him!" Dan retorts, worried about her mental health, "It's taken over most of your life to the point where I don't recognize you! When he was declared dead, you were in denial to the point where you refused to work because of this obsession with him! I know he's public enemy number 1 but you're letting him get to you!"

The policewoman growled out in fury before it puttered and she turned away from him, her expression one of anger and hurt.

Suddenly, Jane bequeathed Dan of why she desired so strongly to hunt Kallinger down, "I looked up to Warren... He was what inspired me to become a good officer, he gave me hope that there was good in Detroit, and he gave me hope that maybe I could make the world better."

Tears ran down her face from her eyes, hot with anger and her teeth grinding against each other, "So when I heard that he had nearby killed two people with his car while drunk, I was crushed. I finally decided I couldn't deal with Detroit and that's why I transferred." Jane growled again but her tears displayed sorrow rather than rage as she put an arm onto the wall for her to lean against, "Because he let me down."

"...No." Dan said, making her turn around, "You were let down by the standard that you built him up with, you were let down by his unwillingness to quit, you were let down because you couldn't admit that he was in fact human. The guy was having a stressful day and he just wanted to take the edge off, it happens! When he ran over that couple, he personally paid for their hospital bills. He made a mistake but that didn't mean his life should be ruined!"

Jane had an incredulous expression on her face at her partner's explanation on his side of things.

"And really, Jane?" Dan got into her face, no longer afraid to say what he thinks, "I don't think he did jack."

The male officer just walked into the office without another word, leaving the female officer behind to think. Sitting in the office was a blond-haired woman about 33 years old, wearing a white business dress and holding a leather purse, and having a sad look on her face that seemed to increase as he entered. She looked amazing for her age, even though she was currently raising three kids.

This is Lisa Kallinger, adopted mother of Warren Kallinger.

"Hello, mam." Dan put on a fake smile as he sat down, "My name is Daniel Kessler, but you can call me Dan if you want. I'm here to answer some questions about your son, Warren."

Lisa nodded; her sad expression evident as ever.

"How long was Warren Kallinger in your custody?" He began gently.

"Since I adopted him when he was 13. I was 18 at the time and had just been married but I wasn't ready to have kids, so we adopted him on the 20th of May in 2007. The irony being that had our first kid almost 5 months later. Warren moved out of my residence when he was 21." Lisa began, her voice soft and sad.

"How did your family react to the bombing of Detroit?"

Lisa flinched, but answered, "We were already horrified at what had occurred, but when we saw that Warren was suspect #1... we were devastated. Trent and I were practically catatonic, Max now hates Warren's guts, Laura is distraught beyond belief, and Vincent believes that Warren's innocent."

"Have you had any contact with him ever since he was placed #1 on the FBI's most wanted list?" Dan asked.

Lisa looked hesitant but answered, "I received an email from him about 3 days ago, other than that: nothing."

"May I see this email please?" The officer held out his hand, prompting the mother to do so and he looked over the email from Warren. He stared at it for a moment or two before giving her a sympathetic look.

"Look, mam..." Dan gave Lisa back her phone, "I can't imagine how hard this must be for you and your family, but if we catch Warren, maybe there's a chance that the judge won't convict him if he sees this email."

Lisa only nodded, given into despair at her son doing all this. Jane just remained outside of the office for the rest of the conference, maybe for the best as she reflected on how things got to this point.

November 27

Sharpwood

Warren's shack

11:30PM

Warren shut the door to his cabin and locked it, looking over the notes he had written today. Some things happened today; there was a couple that made love in public, the groom of a wedding today suffered a heart attack and had to be rushed to the hospital while the bride allowed the cops to take the food because of her grief, and the oddest one was when an elderly man who stripped naked and began whipping cars in direct traffic with... well, a whip. Granted, one that had a piece of metal at the end of it.

Now was when things were slowly being pieced together for him when he caught wind of something called the Church of Bovos, a cult that practiced everything from public indecency and molestation to bomb threats and public shootings. In 2019, they had shot up a store before Sheriff Wells and two of his officers arrived to deal with them. What they got up to behind closed doors, Warren could only imagine.

Apparently, the thing the church worships is Bovos, the 'forest sprit' of Fertility, Lust, and Depravity. Descriptions of Bovos were scarce, but according to a manifesto he swiped from the evidence room dating back to the cult's beginning in 1983, Bovos is a shadowy entity with a cervine head and long white hair. Same as the tapestry in the police station...

"Wait, the tapestry..." Warren thought out in realization before smacking himself in the face, "Warren, you idiot! That's why it was creeping them out! It was probably a donation from the church to get close to the sheriff!"

He could worry about that later, now he had to think about the Church. Could Bovos be a Daemon Prince or a Keeper of Secrets? If it was the former, maybe he could dig around by some of the members' houses in search of something connecting to Bovos. If it was the latter, then he may need to take action in a shorter frame of time than he expected.

There were other things that concerned him. The elderly man claimed he was the avatar of Pyros, the 'forest spirit' of insanity. A sign of influencing from Tzeentch.

Could Tzeentch and Slaanesh be trying to take over the town? It's not like it was impossible, the two are the more subtle of the Gods, influencing and playing with people's thoughts and desires to get them on their sides. That said, Chaos is as self-destructive as humanity itself, so there could just be more that here. Still, he had to do more investigating, but he still had a job to do. Maybe he could ask Lilly for a day off so he could look around the town.

Speaking of which, Warren then remembered that he had somebody important to call. Somebody that he very much wishes he never had to talk to again.

Marriot Inn, Dearborn...

11:15PM

In room 327 of this fancy hotel, was a slim but sleazy looking man with greasy black hair and a mustache, wearing a green suit with a dark blue dress shirt. He was currently on the phone with one of his subordinates in taking down an incredibly powerful drug lord.

This is Joseph 'Jose' Renard. A private investigator assigned by the Emperor for keeping the Feds out of Sharpwood for payment.

"Do you see him, Pedro? Has he already ordered a drink?" Jose talked to his subordinate Pedro over his iPhone, "What? What chihuahua? Are you sure you're looking at the right guy? Do you see a basket of strawberries?" There was a pause before his answer came, "Pedro, not everything is important, it doesn't matter how he's dressed. A basket of strawberries: do you see it? Has he already started eating the strawberries?"

When he heard Pedro's response, he ordered, "Alright, Pedro, don't worry about that! If he's eating strawberries from a basket, then he's the one we need, no doubt about it." After Pedro asked what to do next, Jose replied, "Just wait until he's eaten all the strawberries, then approach him, right?" At another response and inquiry, he said, "Right, Pedro, right. I'll be waiting for your call! Just stick to the plan, alright?"

Jose hung up and grabbed a small grass filled with a brown drink and a red straw, taking a sip before his phone suddenly rang again.

"Pedro?" He answered, surprised that the guy finished the basket of strawberries so quickly.

"It's me." A familiar voice came through. Warren Kallinger: the Angel of Death or the Desolater of Detroit as everyone is now calling him.

"A-Ah, Warren!" Jose greeted smoothly, allowing a grin to form on his face, "I was sure you must be dead!"

Warren's shack...

"Look, Jose, I know that I-" The fugitive explained to his cleaner/protector, trying to explain why he hadn't paid the ten thousand he owed him for keeping the Feds out of Sharpwood, but he was cut off.

"I hear there's a federal agent who's interested in you." Jose said, ignoring his voice and making up a fake story, "He's already reached Chelsea! From there, I think he'll be heading north! What do you think, Warren? Has he picked up your trail?"

Warren tried again, not buying the story, "Jose, let's just talk-"

"Just imagine, Warren, how happy he'll be to find out you're still alive!" Jose cut him off again, "A young agent -Let's call him Chris- dreaming of a brilliant career! He wants to prove to his alcoholic father that he's made something of his life! And a girl -call her Tanya- she's recently left him, so he'd love to play the hero all over the front page, and then just rub her nose in it!"

The investigator laughs nasally before he continued, "Oh, and Chris has an arrogant colleague too -let's call him Tommy- who's always laughing at him." He laughs again as Warren heard a squeak on over the line, meaning he just sat up from the bed he was on, "OH! OH! OH! You know what, Warren? I think Tommy's fucking Tanya! I mean, this whole time!" He laughed again, "How could I have missed it? Tommy's fucking Tanya, and worse, the alcoholic father is banging Tanya too! I mean, they're all fucking around over there and just imagine poor old Chris!"

"Is there a resting stop between now and the fucking point?" Warren deadpanned, annoyed by how much Jose was rubbing it in that he was late for his payments.

"Don't you dare interrupt my groove, Warren!" Jose jokingly replied through the phone, continuing on, "O-Oh, and by the way, did I mention Chris has a bit of a stutter? Naturally that meant problems at school, but at the academy too! Yeah! He was nearly kicked out of the academy twice, even though his marks were brilliant." He stiffened a chuckle, "Imagine, they were ready to kick the guy out just because he stutters a little!"

"Well, yeah, that's a little funny, I guess." Warren chuckled slightly.

"I know!" Jose laughed much harder than any normal person would be comfortable with, "Nobody wants anything to do with him, you know what that's like right, Warren?"

"Okay, now that was below the belt." Warren replied, unamused.

The investigator promptly ignored him and continued, "And then suddenly, our stutterer Chris, -less than six months at the bureau-, he catches a fugitive on the federal wanted list! Oh, but not anyone, but Warren Kallinger, the Angel of Death! The symbol of our whole society's disintegration! The new Ted Kaczynski or Timothy McVeigh! Nobody else could do it, but there's just something about Chris, you know, Warren?"

Warren just blinked, "'The Angel of Death?'" Not a bad moniker by any means, but it was a bit much for him. Then again, he always did want a cool moniker if he ever became infamous. Then he tried again, "Look, Jose, it was one-"

"Now, Tanya wants to fuck him," Jose continued, "And the prom queen, Sharon, wants to fuck him, and even Susie the ballerina, who turned him down on three separate occasions because she didn't want anything to do with the fucking stutterer, wants to fuck him! And it's all thanks to you, Warren! All thanks to the fact that you couldn't stick to our simple arrangement and answer the fucking phone when I call!"

The man decided he had enough with this, "I couldn't pick up the phone, because the moment you called, it was shot at! Literally! And I was being dragged-"

"Well, then you're one lucky bastard, Warren!" Jose interrupted him, "You are lucky that have such a cold black heart, completely incapable of compassion! Without batting an eyelid, I will leave that poor stutterer Chris with nothing! I'll make a couple of calls and he'll turn right around on that road he's on to Sharpwood, and return to his miserable life as a lonely loser! He's just not the right man for Tanya. Some people just aren't made for each other, you know! ...True, you'll have to pay me twice as much-"

"Twice-" Warren cut him off and then cut himself off as he did the math in his head before yelling, "Twenty thousand dollars!? But it was just one missed-"

"Oh, that's not the worst of it, Warren!" Jose cut him off, but he could feel the grin on his lips, "You not only have to pay me twice as much, but you'll have to do it four times as often. Twenty thousand, a week! I hope whatever mess you've got yourself in, you've still got all your fingers, or at least enough to pull out a bank transfer. How long until the next payment? Four days?" Jose asked the man he was hired to protect by E, who was so flabbergasted that he could barely speak.

"T-Twenty thousand dollars a week?!" Warren was near hysterical, "Come on, Jose, I-"

"Sorry, Warren! I got another call! I'm guessing that Mr. Cervantes just finished eating his strawberries! Bye!" Jose interrupted obnoxiously.

"What? Strawberries? Jose, just-" Warren tried to convince the investigator but the latter hung up. The man just listened to the dial tone for a few minutes before ending the call. Warren stares blankly for a moment before turning to the screen.

"I am gonna but that little bastard in a wheelchair."

November 28

Hell's Gate Hospital

10:30PM

After that whole disaster, now Warren has to come up with a lot of underhanded ways to get the money. Not only that but he had to get twenty thousand dollars a week now. Meaning either he has to come up with a complex plan to rob the Sharpwood would bank, which might hold him off for a couple weeks if he doesn't get greedy with it, or he had to secretly deal with the Neckties to get some more payments.

Either way, it didn't matter as he had to get twenty thousand dollars a week if he wanted to make sure the Feds didn't get to Sharpwood.

There was only one crime that he could tie to Chaos; a woman working in a beauty salon who tied up a man, claiming that she was going to make him beautiful.

His thoughts were cut off when he remembered that one of his officers, Sandra Spurlock, had just been in a car crash. Sure, it didn't hit him hard as he barely knew her, but since Belmont asked him to at least visit her in the hospital after the day was over, he did so.

Warren pulled up to the hospital in his truck, it was a surprisingly big building as it was outside of the town. Thankfully, the entrance and the building in general seemed quiet enough for him to be able to just slip in, give his condolences, slip back out, and go back to his cabin to get some rest. The lobby was quiet as the dead except for a rotund old woman in a grey suit at the receptionist desk, humming as she was typing something into her computer before she noticed him standing at her desk.

"Can I help you?" She asked him politely.

"Hi. I'm here to see Sandra Spurlock." Warren held out his ID showing his alias, "The name's Jack Graves, I'm her boss."

"Oh, yes." The receptionist looked down on the officer's name into her computer. After a minute, she looked back up to the man, "Third floor. Room 321."

The cop just nodded his thanks and walked to the elevator which was at the left hall aside from her desk. After a minute of riding the elevator up to the third floor and listening to the admittedly catchy elevator music, Warren got to his subordinate's floor. It was quiet as the building, though that could be just for the fact that it was almost midnight, but he walked around until he found Room 321. But before he could enter, an attractive and busty brunette nurse came out off of the room, holding and looking at a chart before noticing Warren standing there.

"Hi, can I help you?" The nurse asked, her voice sounding pleasant and sweet, she sounded like she genuinely wanted to help people. Warren supposed he could admire that because he was like that once.

"Yeah, I'm here to see Sandra Spurlock. I-I'm her boss." Warren speaks his best to not betray how ready to get this over with he was. He was concerned for her, but he barely knew Spurlock and he was just here because Belmont asked him to be here. Though, he saw that none of the other officers or Spurlock's relatives were there, meaning that they were either caught in traffic or that something was wrong.

The nurse eyed him, finding him a little intimidating in his leather jacket, white dress shirt, black pants, and leather boots. She couldn't pin down the feeling she got from him, but she was sure that she saw him before. The nurse shook her head, it was probably nothing.

"I'm actually glad you're here." She replied to him, her mood turning somber and solemn, "The car crash had ruptured her organs. All of her intestines, spleen, liver, and stomach have been destroyed. I'm surprised that she's still alive, but despite that, I doubt she's going to last the night."

Warren just nodded, seeming actually sad, "Alright, can I go in?"

The nurse nodded and stepped aside to let him into the room. There he got the full sight of Spurlock, and it wasn't pretty; the woman's auburn hair was haggard and unkept, clad in hospital gown and an oxygen mask, bloody bandages covered her abdomen, chest, and right side of her face, and her legs were bend upwards. Oddly, her expression was not one of pain but one of rapturous pleasure. There were no lights on in the room, only the partly clear skies, letting the moonlight come through, giving it an ominous feeling.

Unsettled, Warren slowly walked towards the bed of the officer and rested his hands against the railing of the bed. She seemed to notice him as he came closer to her, a small smile curling from her lips.

"Hello, Mr. Graves." Spurlock spoke to him, her voice sounding as lovely as the two locked eyes.

Warren hemmed for a second before answering, "Uh, hey Spurlock. What's up?"

The woman in the hospital bed still kept her smile at that, rolling her eyes in genuine amusement, "Oh, you know just laying here in the hospital, waiting to die from a car crash that I caused intentionally. Other than that, I'm peachy."

Warren only gave a slightly nervous chuckle and examined her. From what he saw, she didn't seem to be in any pain or was suffering from any signs of agony. In fact, like she said, Spurlock seemed peachy all things considered. With that, he was about to just say his goodbyes and go when he then noticed something on her upper arm. Pulling up the sleeve of her hospital gown, Warren was shocked to see what was there.

It was a cardinal pink tattoo of an odd symbol: A diagonal line with a large orb at the lower end, a small crescent on the raised end, and an inverted crescent sitting in the middle of the line.

The Mark of Slaanesh.

Warren's expression was stony despite the lightly opened mouth before slowly backing away. His gaze was then locked onto a syringe and a small bottle of a clear liquid on a desk, but the odd thing was that there was a black note written in gold fond.

It read: "Use this on her. It's the quietest way to nib the bud at the stem. Remember, only use the number if you're neck deep in shit. Sincerely, E."

The cop took the bottle and syringe, palming them before he looked at the note again. Warren then whispered, "Well, whatever you say, E." He walked back over to Spurlock's bedside and pulled up a chair by the side before setting down.

"Sandra." He said her name once, causing her sole uncovered eye to turn to him, widening as it saw the needle and bottle, "After the first injection, you're gonna go to sleep. After the next injection, you're gonna stay asleep."

She choked before gaining a calm and serene expression, curling her hand into his. Warren nodded in understanding, inserting the needle into the bottle and retracting a large amount of the liquid. He then put the needle into the IV and deployed the plunger. Spurlock immediately let out a gasp of pleasure, her back arching before she laid back down onto the bed.

"I'm coming, Lady Slaanesh." He heard her whisper, "I'm coming home."

Spurlock's lips contorted into a serene smile as her eye fluttered shut. Warren just gently stroked her hair and gave her a kiss on the forehead, giving her a look of pity before he retracted the rest of the liquid from the bottle into the needle, then stuck it into the IV and deployed the plunger.

Just before he did though, he leaned in and whispered into her ear, "May you find a loving embrace in your goddess' arms."

The content smile on her lips seemed to widen just as he deployed the plunger.

The heartrate monitor began making sounds but just as he stood up to leave, Warren saw that the syringe, the bottle, and the note had disappeared, and good thing too as the nurses and doctors had come in just as he was about to exit. One of them shouted something as they attempted resuscitation while the nurses brought the defibrillators. Warren just had his hands up in response and slow walked out of the room, putting his hands down but then he saw Lilly, some other officers, and a woman he didn't recognize coming down the hallway. Just as they came to the room, all of them saw the doctors and nurses in Spurlock's room.

"What happened? Is Sandra, okay?" The woman asked Warren while grabbing him by his shirt, either being Spurlock's mother, aunt, sister, daughter, or maybe even girlfriend.

Warren just gave her a sympathetic look, his eyes down as he shook his head sadly.

The woman gained a devastated expression, burying herself in Warren's chest, sobbing hysterically. Lilly covers her mouth with her hand as tears fall down her face, Charlie just scowls and looks down, while the other cops just looked downcast and sorrowful.

Warren just patted the woman on the back in sympathy, before she let go, putting her face in her hands to sob as Lilly came forward to comfort her. The silver haired man just clicked his tongue in pity before walking off. Nobody ever said anything just as he walked away from them, silent as the moon hovering in the sky.

An hour and a half later...

Warren's shack

12:30PM

Warren stretched his arms out for a second, now just in a pair of grey warm up pants and a black whit beater. Just before he was about to hit the hay, his phone began ringing and the ID showed it was Lilly.

"Hey, what's up, Lilly?" Warren said, his voice sounding tired and muttered as he sat down on his bed.

"Hey, Warren. Sorry for calling you this late at night, but I decided that I wanted to talk to you about something." Lilly said, with Warren assuming she was talking to him while by her bed too, "At the hospital, you seemed to take the death of an officer pretty well."

"Lilly..." Warren sighed in exasperation, "Do you realize that you're calling me in the middle of the night?"

"Yes, I know, but I really feel like I need to talk about this. I get that you'd probably seen several cops die in Detroit but still, wouldn't it have killed you to show the woman your condolences."

"Look, Lilly..." Warren lost his words for a moment because of how tired he was but regained them, "I barely knew her. I met Spurlock like three days ago. What am I supposed to feel about someone I barely knew?"

"I know, Warren, but-"

"Lilly, please... Go to sleep." Warren cut her off and hung up, too tired to continue this conversation. He laid down on his bed and immediately passed out, unaware of the cervine thing that was wandering around his front yard.

November 29

Jane's apartment, Lansing

8:30PM

Jane walked back into her apartment, her expression angry and unhinged. She walked in and slammed the door, standing still for a moment before grabbing a nearby cushion on her couch and screaming her lungs out into it.

Today was nothing short of a disaster, not only has no progress in catching Kallinger been made at all, but the Chief has said that he was considering firing her because she refused to perform her usual duties. What's worse is that people have been asking her about her relationship with Warren after that bitch Sondra Fuller exposed it on national television.

Now, things are gonna be even harder for her as people are gonna start asking questions and others are gonna question her integrity as an officer. Meaning, either she was going to get fired or she was gonna get fired and forced to do hits for the mob just to get a check.

Jane was about to scream again when she noticed something on the table; a small black box with a pink ribbon and a note sitting on the cover. What was weird was that she was sure she had the doors and windows most surely locked, so how could anything get in?

There was odd about the box as well. Jane couldn't describe it but it felt like it irradiated this wrongness, yet she couldn't be driven away, like terrible men doing good in their lives yet others followed.

She slowly walked towards the box, each step causing the feeling to intensify before she was only inches from the thing. The feeling seemed to be weighing like a thousand truck on her shoulders, her heart hammering against her ribs, her breath shortening as she picked up the note.

It read: If you wanna catch Warren Kallinger, look inside~

That put down any hesitation left in Jane as she undid the ribbon and opened the box, only to pause upon seeing the contents; a bottle of ink, a blank piece of paper, a second piece of paper with a set of instructions, a fountain pen, and a business card that had an odd symbol: a lopsided and jagged mark that she could only describe as an eight-pointed star.

Jane blinked, unfolding the set of instructions. The paper said that if she wanted to get Warren then she would need to follow these instructions. First was to trace the symbol on the card with the special ink and the fountain pen onto the blank piece of paper, then wet the paper and place it on whatever part of her body of her choosing, and the last part just said, "Enjoy."

The policewoman blinked at the last part, contemplating whether this was the right thing to or not. But then she thought about Warren again, the trust he betrayed, the lives that he had snuffed out, the pain that he's caused so many people.

After that was when she decided.

Jane took the blank paper and placed it over the card, then taking the bottle of cardinal pink ink and uncapping it before using it to fill the fountain pen. After filling it and testing it on a separate piece of paper, Jane traced the symbol over the paper, then she would wet it with a wet sponge so that it wouldn't rip apart, and then placed it on her forearm.

Half a minute later, she removed the sponge and paper from her arm. Low and behold, the ink had bled from the paper and onto her arm, giving her a pseudo-tattoo of sorts.

Suddenly, the symbol seemed to warp on her skin; black outlines formed, and the interior developed various shades of red like passionate flames, it then seemed to glow an unnatural yet beautiful hue. Then Jane suddenly began seizing, her throat issuing a silent scream of pleasure, and her eyes burned a bright red before the world gave way to silence.

November 30

Warren's shack, Sharpwood

11:30PM

Warren hummed as he parked his truck by shack, looking over the photos and newspapers he'd collected from the last two days. Lilly had allowed him to take two days off because he charmed her into it, but she only agreed to it if it was the only two days for the next two weeks. He was fine with it as he needed time to search the town for his investigation.

Thankfully, he didn't have to look far as he had discovered something as he went into the morgue after the coroner and his assistant and intern called him about several 'abnormalities' in many of the bodies. When he got there, they showed him that one of the bodies had become horrifically bloated with the internal organs reduced to what he could only describe as a bubbling soup of methane.

That was just the beginning of the oddities that they showed him. The body of a teenage girl had small horns growing from her brow, cat-like eyes, and had a secondary ribcage that covered her intestines. Another had all sharp metal fangs inside of teeth, yet another had her hair in the process of fusing into spikes or horns, and a final one was unique as they had removed the intestines and put it in a jar because it had become a snake-like creature with mouth filled with fangs.

Because he was worried that if he was caught that somebody would take photos of memetic hazards and post them on social media sites, Warren decided to use a polaroid camera to take photos of the bodies and their abnormalities. He then told the coroner to cremate all the bodies and call him again if any more bodies with abnormalities came up. He also said that none of them could call the Feds or any of the Justice League, MIB, or the Global Defense Force, they needed to keep this as quiet as possible.

The next day, Warren went to one of the abandoned houses in the old neighborhood. It belonged to a reclusive named Mary Dawkins, whom was a massive agoraphobe and paranoid schizophrenic. She committed suicide three days after the rift had open, but her family had foreclosed on her house, and no one has yet to buy it or even clean it out. According to her family, the reason why none of them wanted to go in and why nobody wanted to buy it was because of there was an odd feeling in the house that they couldn't shake.

When he got into the house, Warren didn't encounter the same feeling though. But in the house, he found several newspapers, illustrations, and artifacts in the living room and bedroom that he automatically knew were related to Chaos. After that, Warren collected all of the Chaos related stuff and placed it into his truck.

However, just an hour later, Warren got a call from the Sharpwood Tattler, the local newspaper about something that worried them immensely. When he got there, they told him that there were increasing sightings of something that they are calling Freaks in near the forests. When Warren asked for proof, the journalists showed him several photographs of people going into the forest with several anomalous features. One terrified journalist recalled that she had encountered a homeless man near her house and his eyes suddenly slithered out of their sockets like a snail.

The most shocking part was when one of the photos contained the image of a humanoid-cervine entity that looked disturbingly like the one from the tapestry in the police department.

After seeing this, Warren told them that they had to call him if anything else came up and he'd take care of it. They were skeptical but decided to trust him as they were too scared to report it to the Feds. But before he left, one reporter gave him a set of newspapers of events that they would have printed out, but Sheriff Wells stopped them from doing.

But now that the day was over and so was his break, Warren decided to just head back and look over all that he had collected today. Then after a few trips of getting it all into his cabin, he then moved it all to one of the other rooms where none would suspect.

With that done, Warren got his backpack and walked back to his cabin, the snow crunching under his feet with the only lights being the one lamppost by his driveway which gave him some comfort as he walked back to his home for the time being.

But just as he was halfway from his cabin, Warren was suddenly aware that he wasn't alone. There was a second set of footsteps that were trudging through the snow along with his.

"Do you live here, whitey?" A voice behind him pricked his ears, causing him to turn his head slightly as to provoke a reaction. It was a man with short brown hair and an average face, but it was what he was wearing that frightened Warren. The man was wearing a blue suit with a white dress shirt and red necktie, along with a black wool trenchcoat.

That man was one of the Neckties.

Warren kept a stony expression and kept walking, knowing that the Necktie was following him. Then he heard another set of footsteps to his left. He turned and saw that another one of the Neckties was following him.

At first, Warren was confused as to why the Neckties were coming for him, but then he remembered that the cops had confiscated at least twenty-seven kilos of cocaine. Twenty-seven kilos of cocaine that probably meant quite a lot to them and had probably ticked them off quite a bit.

The wanted man just kept walking, hoping to lure them into a spot where he could see them and shoot them. But when he pulled out his revolver, he saw that he wasn't loaded. Warren abandoned it into the snow and grabbed the handle of the machete he had kept hidden in his coat, hoping to use it when they got close enough for him to strike. But before he could, he tripped on something and fell to the ground.

Warren scrambled backwards, pulling out his machete and holding it up, showing the two that he wasn't going out without a fight. The two looked at each other and then looked back at him with smirks as both pulled out hatchets. Warren slowly crawled backwards with his machete still held high while the two Neckties got closer and closer. The lamppost's light shining down on them like God was watching them, the metal from his blade and from the hatchets seemingly gleaming at the chance to spill blood, their guns still in their holsters as it would have been too quick of a death as they have their prey in their sights.

Suddenly, a gunshot cracked like a whip into the air. The second Necktie fell dead with a bullet to the cranium, blood only dripping as his body landed into the snow like a stringless puppet. The first Necktie only had a second to stare with wide eyes before another bullet pierced between them. His body fell just the same as a stringless puppet.

Warren blinked owlishly with wide eyes, looking to his side to see two other people standing a few kilometers away, in between two pine trees. There was one with a gun who's clothing and features he couldn't make out, but the other one he could see. It was a 50-year-old man with greying black hair, wearing a grey-blue coat over a white dress shirt, green cargo pants, and black boots.

"Go home, Mr. Kallinger!" The older man yelled to him; his voice somewhat muttered by the snowfall.

"Who am I talking to?" Warren shouted back, cupping his hand to his mouth to amplify the sound.

"My name is Colonel Liam Henderson." The man introduced himself still yelling, motioning around him, "But as you can see, we'll have to do this some other time."

Warren would have gotten up and nodded but then he remembered what he said and shouted, "How do you know my name?"

The colonel ignored him and turned to the man he brought with him, "I think there were only two of them, but best be safe. Check the area and tell Mark to shut off that engine. Someone will have to stand watch here until morning."

"Hey! I'm talking to you!" Warren shouted again, gaining their attention because he didn't answer his question.

"Go home, Mr. Kallinger!" Henderson shouted back, "Lock the door, stay away from the windows. Don't come out until morning! We'll talk another time!"

The wanted man was given pause but nodded, getting up from the snow and grabbing his backpack in the process, slowing reentering his house and silently keeping the lights off. He gently closed and locked the door, looking in through the window and set his backpack in the room where he stored the other stuff he collected today.

After that whole ordeal, Warren decided to just go to sleep.

December 1

Sharpwood Police Station

8:00 AM

Entering his office, Warren first stopped and peered back outside into the halls. Looking both ways, he confirmed that nobody was there at the moment and reentered the room. He then shut the door and locked it with the key that Lilly gave him, then going to one of the vintage computers and looking up this Liam Henderson.

While he hated these barely functional pieces of crap, they weren't streamlined like his laptop. Meaning that he could look through the database without anybody tracking him through the internet.

After a minute, he managed to pull up the rap sheet of Liam Henderson, though the screen was so old that it was colored in green, and it would become a little unfocused.

'Name: Liam Elmore Henderson.

Age: 59

At the age of 19, he enlisted in the Marine Corps. At 25 he graduated with honors from Portsmouth Military Academy. He was stationed at Sharpwood military base as a lieutenant, and by the age of 44 he had risen to the rank of colonel.

In his later years of service, after the economy of Sharpwood began to collapse, he repeatedly received reprimands and disciplinary action for suspicion of theft of state property and profiteering on scarce goods.

After the military base in Sharpwood was closed, he was released from active duty and is now officially listed as unemployed. But a number of informants identified him as the leader of a gang of smugglers, consisting mostly of retired soldiers. However, all informants and witnesses refused to testify, and there was no decisive evidence of Henderson's involvement in smuggling or any other illegal activities.'

That was all he could read before the thing become so unfocused that it was in a blur. Warren tapped the side of the computer monitor, muttering in frustration, "Piece of shit."

Suddenly, the door was unlocked. Warren spun around but the person that came in was a bald overweight man with a brown bushy beard wearing a white dress shirt, red necktie, and red khakis with brown shoes. He was holding a tray that had some muffins, a mug of hot chocolate, and his revolver on it.

"Time for hot chocolate!" He announced to the confused Warren, chuckling as he set it "Don't pay any attention to me. I'll evaporate in a second!"

Warren asked, still confused by the man's presence, "Who are you?"

"I'm Sean Moreno, secretary." He introduced himself, "And dispatcher. Office manager. Sometimes even a plumber! I have a very wide range of responsibilities! It's easier to say what I don't do!" He chuckled, stirring the mug to heat it up. "Oh, by the way, Henderson told me to get all of this for you, Mr. Kallinger. I remembered that you liked chocolate chip muffins, so I-"

Warren, after blinking from the man knowing his name, put a hand to quiet him before speaking, "Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. I'm sorry but how to you know my name and how do you know Liam Henderson?"

"Oh, I work for him." Moreno answered, placing the tray down "I've heard all about your escapades in Detroit, Mr. Kallinger. I've heard about your hits for the mob, the time you brutalized that pedophile, everything! I'm a huge fan!"

Warren, more than a little tickled by the brownnoser, decided to humor him. He grabbed Moreno by the necktie and pulled him down to his face, making the most intimidating face that he could.

"They better be chocolate chip." He faux threatened, taking one of the muffins from the tray and taking a bite. Seeing that it was indeed his favorite kind of muffin, he let the man go. "Alright, you survived. For now." He narrowed his eyes for dramatic effect.

"Oh, thank you, Mr. Kallinger!" The peppy man nodded eagerly, "I'll get out of your hair. Oh, do you want any marshmallows with your hot chocolate?"

"...Get those mini ones." Warren replied after a pause of thinking. The portly man walked out of the room with a nod, leaving Warren alone in the room.

December 2

Sharpwood Police Department

7:30AM

In the morning at the police station, a small car parked next to where Warren usually parks his truck. The driver seat door opened to reveal a middle-aged man with shoulder length ginger hair and a mustache, wearing a blue suit that was decorated with military medals on the left breast, and with a red necktie, a beige trenchcoat, and polished brown shoes. Finally, he has a wooden cane in his left hand.

This is Captain Britt Carter.

Before he entered the station, the captain fixed his hair, tightened his necktie, and adjusted his medals then opening the door. As Carter walked in, he saw the dispatcher at the reception desk looking at a paper, walking over just as the dispatcher noticed him.

"I'd like to see Sheriff Lilly Reed." He requested, his voice old and grandfatherly.

Moreno raised an eyebrow before asking, "Why do you need Sheriff Reed, mister?" He trailed off, waiting for the man to reply with his name.

"Carter. Captain Britt Carter." The captain introduces himself, pulling out his glasses and a letter, reading a part of the letter, "'...That's why the day when you, Captain Carter, step through the threshold of our department, will not only be an important day for the whole of Sharpwood, but also a very happy day for me personally.'"

The captain took off his reading glasses, "It seems I'm here to make Sheriff Reed very happy, son."

Moreno nodded, keeping a stony face but was internally sweating. What was Mr. Kallinger gonna think when this happened?

8:00AM

Warren parked his truck next to a green car, shut it off, exited, and entered through the front entrance of the police station, mentally preparing himself for another day of work. At least, he has enough to pay Jose. But then he noticed that Moreno was in the doorframe of his office with the door itself opened enough for him to be visible.

He rolled his eyes with a groan of exasperation before yelling at the dispatcher, "Moreno! What did I saw about being in my office?!"

The portly man just said nothing before getting out of the doorframe and walking up to Warren, nervously whispering, "It looks like... It looks like we've got a problem here."

Warren raised an eyebrow, "What kind of 'problem?'"

9:00AM

"...And I need something that will help with these headaches." An old man said to Lilly and Corey, all of whom were sitting at a table to listen for the citizens' needs every week, "I get migraines, you know. Or is this a migraine or just a headache? It's not the same thing you know. They're different things, and they need different medicines. The cure for one isn't the same as the cure for the other. And if something isn't curing you, it's killing you. The medicine for headaches won't help with migraines. Dr. Kanayan explained the difference to me, but I-"

"Okay, do you need an aspirin?" Lilly asked him, cutting him off before his rant went on, her hands up to get him to pause.

The old man shook his head, "No, no, no, it's a different one. It starts with a B, I think."

"Em. Well, let's just write that down." Lilly was then cut off when Warren entered the room and marched straight towards her.

He immediately told her why he was here, "We need to talk. Now."

Lilly blinked before answering, "Excuse me, Mr. Graves, but right now I'm-"

"Hey! Can't you see there's a line?" The old man cut her off to tell this jackass to get in line.

Warren, instead of being insulted, just looked confused before turning to Lilly for answers, "I... What's going on here?"

"I just listen to the needs of our townspeople every week," Lilly told him, "I try to help them get access to food and drugs that aren't easy to come by in Sharpwood. I don't want..." She then slumped slightly, "I don't want them going to the smugglers, you know?"

"Get back to the end of the line!" The old man yelled, thinking that he didn't hear him.

"Oh, be quiet." Warren waved him off, flippant to the old man, "I work here."

"You work here?" The old man inquired, "Well, then I'll tell you, boy: the floor in the corridor I walked over there is the dirtiest floor I've ever seen in my life, and if my taxes are going-"

"I'm not the janitor! I'm a cop!" Warren interrupted, annoyed by both the old man and his grading voice.

"A cop? Perfect! So, you have to solve my problem with the rats!"

Warren chokes in anger but inhales sharply and curls his hand into a fist to calm himself down. He exhaled and glaring sharply at the old man, unfurling his pointer finger, "I'll deal with you later." He then turned to Lilly, "Lilly, listen, there's a man named Carter waiting for us in my office."

"Carter?" Lilly repeated in confusion before it hit her and she stood up from the table, "Wait, Captain Britt Carter?!"

The white-haired man blinked but replied, "Yeah, that him. Would you-"

"Corey, write down all the medications Mr. Moses needs, and then do the same for the others. Get everything in detail." Lilly cut him off as she turned to Corey, before walking directly to Warren's office with the man himself following behind.

Warren just sat on the side of his desk while Lilly talked to Carter. Apparently, the man was asking as to why he was asked to take charge of the department when they already had Warren.

"There's still one thing I just can't understand, my dear." Carter told Lilly in as polite of a tone as he could, "Why did you write me this letter, if you already have this..." He trailed off as he examined Warren, who was wearing a dirty red shirt, a black flannel, blue khakis, and same black boots. The man himself had his arms crossed with an unamused look.

"Go on, say it." Warren dared, unfold his arms and having them at his sides, "I'm a mess, I know."

Before Warren could start anything, Lilly cut in, "Mr. Graves appeared out of... He appeared unexpectedly, working undercover for the Neckties, and given that we didn't know when you were arriving, we decided to take him. He's here on some big operation, I myself don't know all the details, but I think Mr. Graves himself can tell you everything." She couldn't help but to nervously chuckle at Warren's unamused gaze as he crossed his arms again.

"Oh, I have no doubt that Mr. Graves will tell us everything." Carter chuckled, "He'll tell us how he was assigned to this operation. He will tell us how he was sent his orders, on a beautiful piece of paper with a seal and a signature. He'll tell us how he had to pack up everything in his big city apartment, how carefully he packed his expensive trousers in his oh so expensive suitcase."

Warren blinked and raised his leg to look at his pants.

Carter chuckled, "Oh, how he had to grow a beard to blend in."

Warren blinked again and stroked his now full beard, almost insulted by that comment.

"He'll tell us all about his brilliant career." Carter continued, putting a hand to his chin in thought, "You must have been an excellent student at the academy, Mr. Graves. Perhaps you think you know everything there is to know. But there's something you don't know, Mr. Graves, something very important."

Warren arched an eyebrow, "And that is?"

"A city like Sharpwood can't be saved by some upstart careerists and bureaucrats from central administration." Carter answered, "A city like Sharpwood can only be saved by its people. People who were born here, who grew up here. These are our demons, Mr. Graves, and we have to deal with them ourselves. You were sent here by the chiefs in the suits, while I, prodigal son of Sharpwood, was sent here by the Lord himself."

"Oh, so, in your opinion, Sharpwood will be saved by a lame-ass soldier with no police experience, holding his Bible at the ready?" Warren shot back at the man, who didn't react in offense.

"I will not take offense to your disrespectful remarks, Mr. Graves, because I myself was once just a stupid fool." Captain Carter said undeterred, "I did not understand that God saved me in the war. I did not understand that it was he who helped me survive after what happened to me in the war. But now, I understand. Now I see. Now I am ready. And have no doubt, Mr. Graves, I have come not with a shield but with a sword!"

"Well, then prove it!" Warren challenged, getting off his desk and walking towards the captain, "Work here for a week and show us what you can do! Whoever gets the most arrests in one week stays, the loser leaves the station."

Fearing about what's going to happen, Lilly tried to dissuade the situation from escalating, "Alright, we're not making this into a stupid game. Mr. Graves, you've done an excellent job, but you have to agree that-"

"This isn't a game, Lilly!" Warren interrupted her, "It's-"

"This is a test." Carter claimed, his back straight and ready, "And it's a test that I humbly accept, my dear Lilly. I have endured many. Passed them all with dignity. I will endure this one too. Mr. Graves has run this station well, so it is only far to see if the best man wins."

Warren chuckles, "Oh, trust me. You'll love it here."

"Excellent! Just fine! Now we have two more stubborn boys in the department!" Lilly threw up her arms and stormed out of Warren's office, slamming the door shut in frustration, leaving them alone.

The two men looked at the door Lilly just stormed out of, and then looking at each other with Warren asking, "What's her problem?" Not getting why a small competition would be a problem for her or anyone else here.

Carter merely shrugged.

11:30PM

After the day ended and with him telling Moreno how he once went undercover for the mafia for 3 months while doing hits for them, Warren got into his truck and drove back to his cabin, intending to pop some painkillers and go to bed drunk to get Carter's religious crap out of his head. Maybe that'll give him the strength to tune it out for the week.

But as he got back to his cabin, Warren noticed that a Humvee was parked in his driveway with Colonel Henderson standing by. Warren parked beside the Humvee and turned off the lights and engine of his truck before getting out. The colonel just leaned back against his truck, smoking a cigarette until he noticed Warren pulling up.

"Please, Mr. Kallinger." The colonel opened the door to his van and motioned for him to get in.

Warren just bluntly replied, "Why on earth should I get into the car with a complete stranger?"

"Given your history," Henderson retorted, flicking some ash off his cigarette, "I'd imagine you often had to get into a car with strangers, back in Detroit."

"Detroit was different." Warren clarified.

"Is it really so?"

"Absolutely." A bunch of the cops in Detroit were under payroll for the mob, were snitches or loyalists for corrupt senators, or just plain abused their power for gain of any kind. You'd be lucky if there were a few cops like him in Detroit, but then again, look how he turned out.

"Friendlier?" Henderson inquired.

"Warmer." Warren deadpanned.

The colonel chuckled, "Well, that's not saying much. Anywhere is warmer than here."

Warren sighed. He walked into that one. Deciding what the hell, he entered the car and moved to the seat behind the passenger's seat with Henderson taking the seat behind the driver. He motioned for them to go, making the driver start the Humvee and drive off to wherever they were taking him.

"How?" Warren decided he might as well start.

Henderson turned to him, "Excuse me?"

"How did you find out who I was?" He clarified, both demanding and curious to find out how the leader of the smugglers found out his true identity.

The colonel merely pulled out his lighter and lit his cigarette, taking a drag and then exhaling through the open window before asking Warren, "How many ads were there?"

Warren blinked in confusion, "Ads?"

"Well, I'd be willing to bet that when you came here, you went looking for housing in the newspaper ads." Henderson explained his question, "How many ads did you look at?"

"I don't know. Maybe a dozen." He lied. In truth, E told him over the phone to rent that house for whatever reason. Sure, it was a little vintage for his tastes, but beggars can't be choosers. And at least it had Wi-Fi and a TV so he could use his computer.

"But you chose this house. Why?"

"Because... Because it stands away from everything." Warren lied again.

"Well, that's a reasonable choice." Henderson agreed, thankfully buying the lie while exhaling the smoke from another drag out the window, "Unfortunately, the Neckties choose their houses by the exact same principle. They stash their goods in isolated houses, until they can find a big buyer. But they don't settle into the house, they let someone else rent it. It's safer that way."

Warren cut in, "Look, I'm not interested in how the Neckties do business. I just want to know how they found out my real name."

"I'm not a big fan of drug dealers, Mr. Kallinger," Henderson continued, getting to the point, "But I have to give them their due: many of them are amazingly smart. Much smarter than... Well, smarter than your average drug dealer, you know? And the man who was appointed to watch your house, Arthur Shriller? Well, it turns out he's got quite the brain. He even went to college, can you imagine? Arthur is so clever that when he realized that you're Warren Kallinger, he didn't report it to your bosses."

The colonel began explaining the situation with the Neckties, "You see, the Ties are a wandering gang. Yesterday, they worked in Dearborn, today they're here, tomorrow they'll be somewhere else. They'd just shoot you to be safe and that would be the end of it." He then put a finger up, "But Arthur is clever, he realized how valuable this information was. So, he did the clever thing, and brought it to me."

"But how did he know who I was?" Warren further clarified, "How exactly?"

"Ask him yourself when you get the chance." Henderson answered vaguely, annoying Warren to no end. Suddenly, the car slowed down, and Henderson looked out the window, "Oh, it looks like we've arrived."

It was a shady bar shrouded with snow, painted stain glass windows of pink, blue-green, and burgundy. The sign above the entrance but under the headlights read, "Niflheim." The Humvee stopped near, and Henderson got out of the car, walking halfway before stopping and turning back to Warren who was still in the car.

"You coming, Mr. Kallinger?" He asked him.

"Are you completely out of your mind?" Warren responded, "I'm a wanted man. I shouldn't be going around showing my face in public, even if it is old and shaggy."

Henderson rolled his eyes at the man's paranoia, "Come on, Mr. Kallinger, there's only drunk pigs and sweaty strippers in there. Nobody will even look at you. Don't you wanna drink a mug of draft beer for the first time in months and blech loud enough for everyone to hear? Aren't you tired of hiding? Don't you just want to be an ordinary person?"

Warren suddenly felt like he was a million years old. He did want to do that, very badly in fact, but the logical part of his brain was screaming that he was an idiot and told him that it wasn't worth it, and the emotional part of his brain was beating the crap out of the logical part, desperate for respite. But he didn't manage to come up with a compromise.

"You saw where I live. Don't you think it's fair that I see where you live?" Warren proposed to the colonel, "Then we can go for a drink."

"Okay, you win. I can accept that deal." Henderson agreed, thinking it was a fair compromise. He walked back to the car and shut the door, "But I'll never believe that you don't miss letting loose."

Warren sighed and had an incredibly old, tired, and resigned look on his face, muttering out, "That's not the only thing I miss. Not the only thing and not the main thing. I can only just keep going."

"I understand." Henderson said in a sympathetic tone, remembering all the times he had to do the same thing while he was fighting in Iraq. The driver started the Humvee back up and drove away from the bar. After a while, they arrived at the old military compound turned smuggling operation for Henderson. As the car stopped and they exited, Henderson said with an arm extended, "Well, here's where we live."

"What, we can't go inside?" Warren supplied, putting his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.

The colonel shrugged, "Well, I didn't go into your house. I stood a hundred yards away. Now we're even. Don't you think that's fair?"

Warren rolled his eyes with a sigh, "Walked into that one." Henderson smirked while lighting a cigarette before the former got down to business, "Arthur Shriller. I want to speak to him."

The leader of the smugglers nodded before turning to a nearby henchman, "Mick, go get Shriller. I'm sure he must still be awake." The henchman nodded before heading inside to retrieve their captive.

"Sean told me about this Captain Britt Carter of yours." Henderson started, as the wind blew the smoke of his cigarette wayward to the mountains, "If you want. I can-"

"It won't be a problem." Warren interrupted to a surprised Henderson.

"Are you sure?" The Colonel questioned him with a raised eyebrow.

Warren waved him off, dismissive yet confident in his abilities, "I can manage."

"If you have any difficulties, just let me know, I could..." The Colonel offered before he trailed off, letting the implication sink into Warren, "Well..."

His visitor scoffed in disgust at the colonel's words, almost glaring at him as he deadpanned, "And I thought you were a smuggler, not a butcher."

Henderson was silent from that response before he turned away from Warren, tapping the burnt parts of his cigarette off, "I don't like the word 'smuggler.'"

"Then maybe you shouldn't smuggle." The latter retorted, his expression set to deadpan and unamused.

The colonel was given pause for a second and replied, "Well, I'll put it this way: I don't like what you mean by the word 'smuggler.' You must be right, Detroit and Sharpwood are very different."

At seeing his guest having a bemused expression, the colonel clarified.

"What kind of unethical goods went through the city you used to live in, Warren?" Henderson asked with his response only being a shrug from the white-haired man.

"Automatic weapons, drugs, people? Who knows?" He answered the colonel.

Henderson titters while palming his cigarette before continuing, "I'll be honest with you: I can't brag that I never had to trade in the first, second, or third. But my most popular product is canned soup."

Warren blinked, surprised before narrowing his eyes, "Canned soup?"

"Mushroom soup, comes in a little red jar." Henderson started pacing around while Warren watched, puzzled, "And this is coming from a man who spent over 30 years eating a tasteless soldier's rations and not complaining, and I can assure you that this soup is the most disgusting meal in the world. When you pop open the jar with a can opener, the smell immediately bolts up your nose." He monologues with a whiffing motion to his face, "The smell of despair, you know? It's impossible to suck down this vomit, without thinking even for a second, that your life is going nowhere."

One of the henchmen shudders at a memory of the soup.

"Sharpwood kids, when they grow up and leave this place, for the rest of their lives, they'll always shudder, like Mark over there, when they remember this awful soup. But only the lucky ones: the few who manage to get out. The rest will live here for the rest of their days, eating smelly soup, and then feeding it to their own children."

Henderson then got face to face with Warren, who remained impassive, "Because without 12 cent soup, they'd all die." The former motions to himself, "I give them this life, with the smell of despair. Bitter, but life." The colonel shakes his head, "I don't know what cruel word to call what I'm doing, but I'm definably not a smuggler. And I want that-"

He was cut off by the henchmen bringing out a mousy college student in a beige sweater and blue jeans. His hair was brown and with curls, and he had a pair of tinted glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose, and there were the faintest signs of a beard on the underside of his jaw.

"There's your college boy, Mr. Kallinger." Henderson said. Warren just remained silent as he watched the man closer to them. Arthur remained calm as he stared at Warren before he turned to one of the henchmen.

"Give me a cigarette." He asked. The henchman near him just pulled out a cigarette and lit it up. The college student then looked to Warren, "Still alive, Mr. Kallinger? Oh, wow."

"How did you know who I was?" Warren asked the student.

"Were you really hiding all that well?" He retorted with a raised eyebrow, before explaining, "Before your arrival into Sharpwood, you fled from Lansing to Grand Rapids over two days while staying at the Eastwood Hotel. Then, on your way out of Grand Rapids, you ran over a drunk man with your car. You then stole the man's wallet and then place the corpse into your car and sent it over the road. It caught fire and you escaped with the man's truck. 3 days later, you encountered a long-haired man that asked you to follow him, or he'd call the cops. I admit, I don't know what was said between you two-"

Warren decided to cut him off before he revealed anything else, "Impressive, Shriller. But are you proud of the fact that you just found the most wanted man in the country?"

"Mr. Kallinger," Arthur remained calm while expressing his issues with his current situation, "If I'd known my curiosity would turn me into a hostage to rednecks playing toy soldiers, I wouldn't have stuck my nose into your business."

"Hostage?" Warren raised an eyebrow, only to notice the bindings on his wrists.

"Arthur can't leave the barracks." Henderson explained as he walked to Warren's side, "It's for his own safety. In addition, he likes to live by military regulations. Isn't that right, Arthur."

The college boy just gave the colonel a flat look, "This shit you're pulling here isn't military order. It's the middle of the night and everyone's awake!" Mick elbowed him in the kidney for disrespecting the colonel, causing him to yelp in pain before he got the message to shut up. They then walked Arthur back to the barracks, though the college boy hobbled on the way back.

Henderson smiled smugly before taking a drag of his cigarette and looking back at the unmoved Warren, "He's right, Mr. Kallinger. It's high time for bed."

Warren said nothing as both of them walked back to the Humvee so the white-haired man could go home.

December 7

Jane's apartment, Lansing

11:45PM

The night was cold as death, snow fell, and allies were quiet. Everything in the apartment was still and unmoving as a grave in dead and empty forest. Suddenly, window opened to the apartment from the outside and a figure crawled in before closing the window. The figure sat down on a chair before she let out a pleasurable shudder and sighed in a sultry tone, "That was... amazing."

It was a shapely woman clad in a dark leather outfit with many parts colored in different shades of red and studded bands, thigh heeled boots, black leather gloves, a silver Star of Chaos on the chest and a silver mask with a sinister smile marked in red. In her hand was a saber with a jagged hilt and pommel. After a moment of relief, the woman took off the golden mask and set it aside, revealing her to be Jane Hendricks.

She set her saber into the table and slowly undressed from her costume while undoing her ponytail, leaving her unclothed and drenched in sweat in her apartment. It was more than sufficient to leave her sated upon returning from another night of indulgence.

Jane then lays in her couch and covers herself with a blanket. The last week was nothing less than unbelievable for her since she applied the Mark to herself: at first, she merely took the week off to get control of herself from the enhanced senses she had recently gained. But soon, she went to places of pleasure as her feelings of attraction and pain began to blur and merge.

But soon, drugs, sex, and liquor weren't enough. On her way home on Wednesday, she murdered several vagrants in ways that left her covered in blood. So much so, that she had to sneak her way back to her apartment. But when Jane got back, she found that costume and saber on her table, with a note that said, "Enjoy."

And that's all she ever did. From then on, Jane prowled the dark alleys of the city at night, raping and murdering anyone she saw. It was insane to her that she was looking forward to tomorrow night like a drug addict awaiting their next fix, but the overwhelming pleasure she obtained from her actions was more intoxicating than whatever alcoholic drink she'd ever drunk.

Tomorrow, it would be the same. After holding off until work ends, she'll don her costume and mask again and go out hunting for more prey for her to sate her urges. Then she'll go hunting for Warren to make him pay for hurting her.

But just as Jane was about to go to sleep, her phone began ringing.

With a groan of annoyance, Hendricks got up and answered, not bothering with covering herself, "What?"

"Hello to you too." The ever so familiar voice of her partner Dan snarked, "Are you awake, Jane?"

"What do you think?" She snarked back.

Dan continued, ignoring her, "The Chief said he and the taskforce wanted to speak with you about your obsession with Warren. The general is gonna be there and the director of the FBI. Apparently, they had heard of your obsession with Warren and that made you an ideal target for them. To put it simply, whatever happens tomorrow, just nod and don't say anything except 'Yes, sir.' Hopefully, the blow back wouldn't get out of hand. Alright?"

Jane was silent for a moment before she just chuckled darkly and answered with, "You'd really like that, right? For me to just say 'Yes, sir' and that's it?"

"Jane, what are you talking about?" Dan asked her, "I'm trying to help you in this situation, you know?"

"Good night, Dan." She hung up before going to bed.

December 8

Capital of Michigan, Lansing

8:45AM

Jane simply adjusted her jacket as she entered the courtroom for her meeting with the chief but to her surprise, the FBI was there along with some of the people from the CIA. The main man was James Enfield, an old general in the taskforce gathered for the Bombing of Detroit that was currently it's head, having come out of retirement for the capture of Warren Kallinger, the main suspect.

The Global Defense Force and the Justice League had not been assigned to the taskforce as they were preoccupied with the rift and recent uprisings and anarchy around the world.

Jane had dressed in a business suit without a tie and had her hair in a ponytail again while the gathered men all wore business suits, but the generals wore their uniforms to the meeting.

Everyone had their greetings before they began their meeting.

General Enfield, a 60-year-old man with greying black hair, took a drink with some pills before he started, "Before we begin Miss Hendricks, I should note that Director Vincent Arians of the FBI and Attorney General Abraham Roark have been good enough to join us. And Director Siegal has also kindly agreed to attend. The rest of these gentlemen I believe you're already familiar with."

"Thank you, General Enfield." Jane greeted, "I'd like to start with-"

"If you will allow me, officer Hendricks, I will begin." Enfield interrupted before clearing his throat, "I'm still in charge, aren't I?"

Jane opened her mouth to protest but closed it and signed, "Yes, General Enfield, I didn't mean to imply that."

"Thank you, Officer Hendricks." The general thanked her before he began the purpose of this meeting, "I would like you yo answer a few background questions, that will help us understand your tenacity in your desire to join in the investigation into the case of Warren Kallinger."

"Of course, I-"

"What is so interesting about him?" Enfield asked her.

"Sir, you ask me why I want to catch Warren Kallinger?" Jane asked, trying to avoid what he was implying, "Well, it's obvious why-"

"No, Officer Hendricks, I did not ask why you wanted to catch him." General Enfield clarified, digging into something that she didn't want to be brought to light, "I asked why you are so interested in him."

Jane was silent before lowering her head, "Sir, I'm not sure I understand the question."

"Oh? Well in that case, allow me to phrase the question more precisely." Enfield responded, pulling up a piece of paper from a booklet of evidence and reading it, "You like Warren Kallinger, because with him you 'don't feel lonely,' as you said on a telephone conversation with him on August 13th? Or maybe because you consider him 'energetic and full of strength,' as you said on another call on the 19th of September?"

The policewoman barely managed to get a word in, "General Enfield, sir, before you go on, I think it must be said that-"

"You know, Officer Hendricks, I am a man of conservative upbringing." The general yet again didn't let her speak her case, "I always imagined there are certain obligatory rituals in relationships between men and women. Going to the movies, meeting at the café, walking in the moonlight. But I see that's just boilerplate romance compared to these touching transcripts."

That got Jane to look up, desperate to cage in her emotions.

"You've quite convinced me that even over the phone you can create a very close bond with someone." Enfield continued, "So close, in your case, that it creates an obvious conflict of interest. And although your relationship with Mr. Kallinger didn't end under the best of circumstances, I don't think I need to explain how grossly you've violated professional ethics and even perhaps the law."

"Sir... I'm not..." Jane could barely speak, unable to express what her reaction was to all this, "How did you-"

"Isn't this the work of an investigator, Officer Hendricks?" General Enfield asked her, "To know more about who we're chasing? Information is our weapon, haven't you heard? Do you think I would have reached my post if I couldn't gather information and use it to win a battle? Everyone here understands perfectly what I'm talking about, I assure you. And I have little doubt that you understand as well, Officer Hendricks. Going against someone with information is like going against yourself. A young lady with ambitions simply cannot help but to learn these common truths."

"General, there is something-" Jane tried to speak, but the general wouldn't let her.

"But even truisms are sometimes worth remembering, are they not?"

Jane tried one final tine, "If you'll just let me explain-

Enfield again interrupted her, "I believe we're finished here, Miss Hendricks. By your chief's approval, you are permanently relieved of duty. Your future will be decided by the disciplinary committee on a special meeting on February 2nd. Meanwhile, you're free to go. We don't need to detain our guests any further. I think they've heard everything they've needed to hear."

With that, the group dispersed. Jane, seemingly upset immensely, stormed out of the room after giving the chief her badge and gun, and angerly exiting the capital and driving back to her apartment. Not stopping to meet with Dan, not stopping to collect her thoughts, not even stopping to calm the raging emotions inside her. Her heart was akin to a pyre that cease to stop burning.

Kicking the door to her apartment open, Jane entered and slammed the door shut. Then she just stood there in her living room, still as a statue despite the twitches in her muscles, eyes wide and teeth gritting together.

Suddenly, her lips curled up and a snicker issued from her throat. It grew into chuckle before growing in intensity, morphing into something louder and louder. Then it became a full-blown cackle as her back arched and she laughed at the sky.

In actuality, she was relieved immensely. Now, she didn't have to keep up appearances. Now, she didn't have anything holding her back. Now, she could do whatever the hell she wanted to do.

Immediately afterwards, Jane stripped naked before donning her costume, but she didn't put on her silver mask. The costumed murderer opened the window to her apartment and climbed out the window after clipping her sheathed saber to her back. The cold nor snow didn't bother her anymore as she scaled her building up to the very top with inhuman elegance.

She backflipped onto the rooftop before spinning around and taking in the city around her. Snow fell like in a storm of white as it muted the sounds of the streets and beyond with only the streetlights and headlights of cars lighting the still dark morning of the world around her. A sadistic smile crossed her face as she stared at the clouded horizon that shrouded the scorched sky.

"Say your prayers, Warren." Jane whispered as she slid the silver mask onto her face, just as her eyes became a gleaming red, "Because I'm coming for you."

Sharpwood Police Department

11:30PM

Lilly just sat in her office looking over all the paperwork on her desk. Warren was winning this stupid competition by a long shot, and what was worse was the fact that Carter was taking the loss in stride. The sheriff wanted to get rid of Warren desperately, but if she calls the feds, there's a chance that he'll rat on her and then she'll go to jail.

There has to be a way out of this. If she can just find a way to have Carter get more arrests by tomorrow, then Carter can gradually take things over and get Warren out of her hair. Sure, he'd still be in Sharpwood but at least if he gets caught then she wouldn't go down with him.

Lilly then sighed in exhaustion and got up from her desk before checking the cabinets for more case files. The first two were well kept but the third spilled out a ton of unsolved case files onto the floor, leaving a mess of booklets and paper.

"Damn." Lilly muttered, slowly picking them up before she stopped abruptly when a lightbulb brightened in her skull. She got an idea.

Five minutes later...

Captain Britt Carter mumbled as he tried to get some sleep for tomorrow. Despite his faith, Jack Graves was winning their competition by a long shot. Maybe it was the fact that he had a lot of experience despite being almost thirty years old or maybe it was because Carter himself was out of practice. No matter: win or lose, he must take it with dignity.

Then the door to the break room opened, revealing Sheriff Reed who was carrying a stack of casefiles. She turned on the lights, before noticing the captain was only in a whit beater, some socks, and his underwear with the brown blanket covering most of him.

"Forgive me, Captain Carter." Lilly told him, looking down just as he sat up from the couch, "But this is important."

"Oh, don't worry, Lilly, it's okay." Carter said, rubbing his eyes a little as they adjusted to the brightness, "I haven't had time to fall asleep yet. You came to wish me luck?"

Lilly simply placed the stack on the desk and then told him, "I have leads on a number of cases that I wanted... That I've dreamed of doing. Someone selling old weapons that they're bringing in from the wreckage of Detroit. Someone else is trying to..." She paused before shaking her head, "Look, it doesn't matter, you can read it all right here." Lilly motioned to the stack, explaining her plan, "The point is that we've got a lot of evidence against some small-time criminals. Relatively, small-time, of course. But I wanted to use them to get bigger fish."

"L-Lilly, there's only one day left." Carter told her modestly, thinking that this was a pretty tall order to fill, "I don't think I have time to get to the big fish."

The sheriff replied, "And you don't need to. Just arrest all of these people. Arrest them and win."

Carter just stared at her as she walked back to the door and then chuckles modestly, "Your father would have laughed if he could hear this, but I... I'm a gentleman, my dear." The trust is that he always believed that he must be fair to win a competition. If it wasn't fair, what was the point?

"Just win the stupid competition, Captain Carter. Please." Lilly asked him both demandingly and pleadingly, before she turned off the lights and closed the door to the breakroom, leaving the captain by himself in the dark.

After a minute, Britt decided that if it pleased the sheriff, he must do it. He got up from the couch and grabbed a seat at the desk before turning the desk light on. At least, he could get this all done by morning as he picked up and looked ever some casefiles. Pretty easy cases; just some robberies, a few thefts and murders, a case of defacing the school, and a case of some stolen equipment from the morgue. Easy cases to solve, as he was a great detective.

But as he was looking though each of the files, a paper slipped through between two files. Carter picked it up and looked at it for a second before he frowned. It was a wanted poster but something about the face seemed familiar. Raising an eyebrow, the captain turned the desk light to the paper, and then it all began to click when he saw the person in the mugshot.

Carter's mouth was open as he stared at the paper with wide eyes, disbelieving at what he was seeing.

December 9

Warren's shack

11:49PM

Warren just grumbled and poured a drink for himself, only to see that it only filled half the glass before it was empty. He made an annoyed sound before throwing it into the waste basket. He somehow lost the competition against Carter, after the latter had gotten a lucky break and got a bunch of arrests, more than he thought as possible. Warren admits that although he took the loss in stride, he was still upset.

He lost, which means he's getting kicked out of the department, which also means that he was gonna have to come up with a plan B to find Chaos corruption if he wasn't acting as the Sheriff's right hand. Warren could call E for help, but he felt that the guy wouldn't be pleased by him asking to help him get his job back.

Still, he had some planning to do when he gets kicked out.

But before he could begin to come up with a plan, a knock was heard at the door of his cabin. Grumbling while throwing on a white long sleeve and black pants so nobody looks at him in his underwear and socks, the silver haired man opened the door to see Captain Carter; trenchcoat, suit with medals, necktie, shoes, and cane in all.

Warren immediately gained a sour expression as he spat, "What? I forgot to give you your parking pass?"

"I have my pass." Carter replied as he held up a bottle of Jack Daniels.

After a few moments of silence, Warren deadpanned, "Didn't God tell you not to drink?"

"That's right, I don't drink. I already went through that ordeal." Carter chuckled while adjusting his tie, "But you... no. But there's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Oh, I'm not ashamed, you can be sure of that." Warren retorted as he lets Carter in, closing the door and locking it. He swipes some things on his table aside and places some glasses for himself. Carter sits across from Warren as the former opens the bottle and places it by the latter's hand.

The two were silent for a moment before Carter began just as Warren grabbed the bottle, "You know... It's hard to handle some things alone, and sometimes help comes from somewhere you wouldn't expect."

"You can say that again." Warren jokingly comments as he pours a drink.

"When I needed help, it was an old man named Terek Palm. Former pastor." Carter goes on, telling of the time when he was plagued by vices as Warren drank, "They say he was kicked out of the church because he went crazy. Uh... I don't know the whole story. Maybe he lost his mind, but he sure didn't lose his instincts."

Warren cocked an eyebrow. Where was this going? He sent many of his officers to Palm's to cure them of their drinking problems, but he didn't know how the pastor related to anything.

"He immediately saw the two things that were ruining my life: Lies and stubbornness. So, he..." Carter chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head, "He locked me in the basement."

"Lost his mind? Must have been a smart guy." Warren deadpanned as he poured another drink. He admitted that he was surprised though; true, he had come across a crime scene where they saved a girl that was caged in a 'sex dungeon', and along with several addicts locked there to curb their addictions, but not for something like lies and stubbornness.

Carter continued in his modest tone, "He locked me up in the basement with the Bible, the Koran, and the Torah, and told me that he didn't care what I was going to believe, but every righteous man, whatever he believed, had to go through these three steps."

He balled his hand into a fist and raised his pointer finger, "The first step is when you choose principles over honesty." He raised his middle finger next, "The second step is when you choose honesty over principles." He then raised his ring finger, "And the third is when you don't need to choose at all, because honesty is your only principle."

Warren just put his drink down, signifying that he was listening.

Carter continued, closing his fist while also knowing that he was listening, "Old Man Palm said that he would bring me water every morning and ask: 'What stage are you on, son?' Three weeks later, I answered: 'On the third, father.' And he let me go. I was a changed man." Carter then looked down, almost ashamed, "But I lied about the third stage. I was still stuck on the second one."

"Well, I guess that makes you a cheat." Warren snarked unimpressed while pouring another drink. "And I'm not gonna play cards with you. Don't even ask."

"The competition between us, it..." Carter just tapped his finger on the table which Warren guessed was a tick, "Maybe it was stupid, but..."

Warren just scoffed, while finishing his drink after swirling it in his hands, "It was only stupid when you won it."

That must have hit something as Carter just winched and had a guilty face before mumbling out, "I... I cheated... Warren."

At hearing that the man knew his real name, Warren just looks up with his eyebrows in his hairline, looking disbelievingly at the captain.

Carter nodded ashamed as he explained, "I won, because Lilly helped me, brought me a pile of papers with a lot of leads. And somehow this one got stuck in with the other papers." At the end of the sentence, the captain pulled and unfolded a piece of paper and put it on the table, revealing it to be a wanted poster which had his mugshot on it. Warren picked it up with his expression still set on disbelief.

"Of course, I was gonna phone it in right then and there, but then I thought: what will happen if I call?" Carter explained what happened last night, as Warren looks over the mugshot with his face slowly becoming blank, "The Feds will arrest you, but then what? Would that be the end of it? N-no, of course, not. There'll be reporters, there'll be some kind of investigation, and everyone will be on the hook. Lilly, the other cops, our ordinary townspeople, everyone! It's hard to imagine how this would hit our town."

Carter puts a hand on the other man's arm in hopes that he'll understand, "Warren, I'm sure you understand." The latter was unresponsive but blinked at least. As he gets up, Carter walks over to Warren's side and pour the rest of the liquor in his glass.

"Lilly wanted me to take things over gradually, you know, so we could work together for a few days and keep everything calm, right?" Carter explains to a still unresponsive Warren, still hoping that the latter will listen to reason, "But you could keep things even calmer. You can leave early in the morning. You can disappear, and no one else in Sharpwood will ever hear from you."

That was when Warren looked at him.

"It'll be like you were never here. Like you got off the bus, took one breath of icy air, and immediately decided you needed to get out of here." Carter proposed, as he placed the empty bottle into the trash can, "I mean, after all, who would hide from justice in a freezer?"

Warren sighed and tried to explain, "It's not that simple, Carter. I-I..." He lost his words and just leaned back on his couch with a miserable expression. Captain Carter just patted him on the shoulder sympathetically as he left the man's cabin.

"Don't be ashamed, Warren. Drink up." Carter said, getting Warren to look up from his table. "You haven't got through this yet. I have."

The captain closed the door, leaving Warren alone while he looked at his wanted poster. Not liking what he has to now do but now knowing that something needed to be done, the man slammed the liquor down his throat before setting aside the empty glass. He turned to the shelve and pulled out a blue booklet, before searching a specific number. Finding it, Warren walked to the old rotary phone near him and dialed the number on it.

"I need to talk to Liam Henderson." Warren spoke to the one who answered the phone, "I know, but it's important. ...Yes, I'll hold."

December 10

Sharpwood Graveyard

9:30PM

Sharpwood Graveyard was usually as somber of a place as any graveyard could be, what with all the snowstorm, cold days and nights, and the unpleasant weather were constantly adding to the feeling of the town. But today, the feeling was more somber than one could imagine, at least for Lilly and the native inhabitants anyway.

On a leafless tree in the graveyard, covered in snow and stiffly moving in the wind, hung the body of Captain Britt Carter.

It was grey as stone, the hair swaying listlessly in the wind, the tie was nearly undone, and his medals were ripped from the jacket and were dropped uncouthly onto the tree's roots. Around the neck was a tightly made noose that crushed the jugulars and windpipe, the expression on the face was one of calm resignation even in the face of death itself, and the eyes with closed in religious acceptance.

Lilly's mind was blank at she stared at the corpse of her hero. Everything else didn't exist, she was unable to see the world around, unable to hear Warren pull up and get out of his truck, unable to feel the cold or her heartbeat and breath, only able to see the body of Captain Carter while her legs were on autopilot as she got closer and closer to the tree.

Somehow, she could feel Warren walk up to her side, standing beside her in watching Charlie and Jamie take down the body of Captain Carter from the tree. For several moments, Lilly couldn't speak, her mind still reeling from the news of her idol being killed despite Warren's presence being nearby.

"How, Warren?" She broke the silence with her broken words, not bothering with using Warren's alias out of reflex and with her mind still unable to accept what is in front of her, "How could I let this happen? Who could have done this?"

"Um... Captain Carter caught a bunch of scumbags lately." Warren offered her his two cents on this, staring as they took the body down from the tree, "And he made a lot of enemies. Any one of those cocksuckers could have decided that-"

"Anyone could. Anyone could. Anyone could have, but someone did." Lilly robotically interrupted him, her mind malfunctioning from all that has happened along with the realization that her pressuring of Carter to cheat caused this, "Anyone could, but someone decided. How could I let this happen?"

"I..." Warren looked at her in concern, seeing the robotic but devastated expression on her face, "We... We will try to-"

"Of course, we'll try, Warren." She interrupted him again, sounding like a broken record, "Of course, we'll try."

Warren then had his head down, looking incredibly uncomfortable, "The one who did this will be punished, I have no doubt."

"You have no doubt." Lilly repeated, her mind still broken, "Of course, you have no doubt. The person who did this has to be punished. What else could happen?"

"Lilly..." Warren muttered, crossing his arms, "We did everything we could. You did everything you could."

"Of course. Even more." Lilly began, "I did more. More than necessary. More than this fucking town can take."

The sheriff walked away, not giving a crap about anything anymore. No one, not even Lilly or maybe even Warren himself, could see the look of utter shame and misery that was on Warren's face as she walked away from the graveyard, knowing of what he has done.

Carl's Car Lot, Sharpwood

11:30PM

It was quiet at least was Lilly's thoughts as she still struggled with the turmoil that was still in her head from today. It was a thankfully quiet day back at the station, but she already knew that whatever cocksucker that did this would be practically pissing themselves drunk from seeing that he was dead. Tears streamed down her face as she laid back against the broken-down rusty pickup truck that she was by.

But before she could go on, Lilly hears the sounds of snow crunching. She turned around to see Warren walking towards her, dressed in a black long sleeve shirt, white khakis, black gloves, his usual leather boots, a black scarf, and a white trench coat. A bit unusual attire for him, but she supposed that he could change his looks every so often.

"Did something happen?" Lilly heard him speak, she would have chuckled if she wasn't completely feeling hollow inside. The sheriff turned around and looked at him directly, the headlights from her car shining from behind as if this was a movie.

"I saw the file." She muttered, barely having the energy to care at this point, "Captain Carter's. Captain Carter's murder. So, that's how it was."

According to what she read; the Neckties had arrived in a van alongside the street where he was walking home from. At first, the captain was able to defend him, breaking his cane over one of the Neckties' jaws but the others overpowered him and dragged him into the van. Then they drove all the way to the graveyard, dragged him out and began fixing the noose around the tree branch. They let Carter fix his hair and give one last prayer before they let go of him and he was hanged.

"Everything points to this, Lilly." Warren started, "Everything points to this, and we have no reason to doubt that-"

"We have no reason to doubt." She repeats, still suffering from today, "I have no reason to doubt. You're a cop, a very experienced cop, much more experienced than I am. You have captured and killed hundreds of criminals. You are a professional. You conduct an investigation. You have assembled all the facts. You wrote a report. You did a great job. You did a great job. You did everything right. What is there to doubt?"

There was no hate, no sadness, nothing other than robotic logic in her words. Lilly then walked away without another word, leaving the silver haired man alone in the car lot. Warren looked down and his face twisted into a sneer of bitterness and self-loathing.

December 14

Henderson's compound

10:20PM

Warren hummed to himself as he drove his truck to the smuggler's compound, dressed in a red long sleeve shirt, grey khakis, his usual black boots, and his leather jacket. Henderson had called him for a special talk about something he's planning for Sharpwood. As Warren parked his grey truck by the entrance and entered Henderson's compound, he heard said colonel yelling over the phone.

"Tell me, Victor, tell me honestly, are you a human being or a robot?" Henderson paused to hear Victor's response, "Huh? Right? Are you sure? Have you checked? Because it seems to me you have a set of programmed commands instead of brains in your head! Ever consider showing a little flexibility? Just a little bit, huh? Ever consider that selling butter and selling gasoline isn't the same thing?! I.."

Warren entered the compound to see Henderson over the phone at the end of two isles filled with supplies and a yellow couch and a yellow recliner. Meanwhile, the colonel continued to ramble on the phone, "Well, listen... Listen to me, Victor. Listen to me for a second before your tiny electrical brains run out of batteries!"

"Oh, joy. He's rambling again." Warren mutters, deadpanning to himself as he walked up next to the colonel.

"When you sell him butter, you sell him a delicious breakfast. A person can live without a delicious breakfast." Henderson began another one of his rants, "Yes, most people in this fucking town haven't even heard of a delicious breakfast! When you sell him butter, he's in a position to bargain, because if he doesn't have butter, he'll smear his toast with... clay, and by God, I swear he will eat it with no less pleasure."

"Ew." Warren says quietly, bemused on by anyone would eat clay. Bricks are made with that shit.

"But when you sell him gasoline, Victor: when you sell him gasoline, you sell him his business." Henderson continued, "You sell him the entire meaning of his existence. Because, Victor, if he doesn't have gasoline, he'll have to shut down his gas station, and if he shuts down his gas station, he won't have butter or toast to put on his table, and in fact he would even have a fucking table because his creditors will take away his whole fucking house, and a man needs a fucking house, so that he can have a place to put his fucking table!"

Warren just has a very perplexed and admittedly amused face after that rant.

"You got the logic, right? Now see if you can digest it with your fucking electrodes, or whatever you usually think with, and call me back when you come to an agreement on the price!" Henderson finished his rant and slammed the phone on its rack while panting. Warren would have inquired about what he was talking about, but Henderson just ran a hand down his face and then spoke in a relaxed and casual tone as if the rant never occurred, "Ah, you're already here! I'm sorry, Warren, busy time of year, I got to sit by the phone all day. I can call you Warren, right?"

Warren cocked an eyebrow, giving him his answer.

The colonel laughed, getting that silent snark, "Why am I asking? I'm already calling you Warren! Let's sit down." With that, Henderson sat on the yellow couch while Warren sat on the yellow recliner, starting whatever the former wanted to talk about.

"We could go to the bar, by the way." Henderson offered to Warren, "I'm waiting for a call, but I can-"

"It's fine here." Warren declined, wanting to get this done with as quickly as possible.

"You sure?" Henderson asked. At seeing Warren nodding in confirmation, he shrugged and said, "Well, as you like." He then grabbed a can of beer and cracked it open before taking a drink, sighing in contentment, "That's what I love about Sharpwood! Even if I forgot to put the beer in the refrigerator, it'll still be cold! Here, you can help yourself."

Warren just shrugged and grabbed the nearest canned thing, which just so happened to be a fist sized red can with a label that he didn't recognize.

"Hm. Doesn't look like beer, does it?" Henderson joked.

"What is it? The infamous smelly soup?" Warren inquired, examining the can of soup.

"You should try it." Henderson requested of his visitor, "Go on, try it, try it, don't be squeamish! Half of Sharpwood eats that soup every day and no one's dead yet!" He jokes before his tone turned dark, "Not from the soup anyway."

Deciding that he might as well, Warren pulled up the tab on the can and cracked it open, the liquid was a light beige with some chunks floating around in the mess of the soup. He then just took a small sip of the supposedly disgusting liquid. Warren paused, smacking his lips to get the taste in, before taking another sip and then turning to the colonel sitting across from him, "Now, I see."

"Hmm?" Henderson raised an eyebrow.

"Now I see why you'd say that anyone who lives on this soup would try to get out of here." Warren clarified. The soup tasted horrible, like he was downing slop but that could be because he hated mushrooms.

The colonel just chugged down the last of his beer and then looked back to Warren while crushing the can in his hand, "Well, yes. But most of them stay. What do you think keeps them here, Warren?"

"I don't know," Warren admits, clueless as to why anybody would want to life here, with this horrible soup as their meal every day, "Family, friends?"

"Friends." Henderson repeats, laughing a little before continuing, "But there's nothing easier than making friends. When did you arrive in Sharpwood? About 6 weeks ago? Or was it 8? And look, already you're surrounded by friends! No, no. It's not the friends, it's the enemies."

Warren blinked, "Enemies?"

"Ask anyone in this city, ask a poor man, ask a rich man (of course, if you can find a rich man)." Henderson begins to monologue, "They all have them. Every one of them has a neighbor they can't stand. Well, how can you leave Sharpwood, and allow your enemy to go on without you? So, he could plant a cherry tree in your backyard? So, he, not you, could by drugs on discount? So, he could grab a nice plot of land in the cemetery? No, no one can allow this. The enemy must be exhausted, if it takes you your whole life. With the enemy, you need to fight to the last. Once you have an enemy, you're doomed. You can't think straight."

Henderson then leaned back in his chair as he continued, "Old Sheriff Wells was doomed. He couldn't stand drug dealers. I myself don't care for them, but Wells didn't count them as people at all: despised them more than murderers and rapists. And as soon as those fucking Neckties appeared in the city, he knew right away that they were his enemies. Enemies which he must overcome, you see? And even if by some miracle he succeeded, what next? What other enemies would he have invented?"

Then that was when Henderson revealed the bombshell, "And the performance we arranged for him that night? He had no reason to believe that there were Ties hiding in that house. But one phone call," He motioned to the phone on the wall where he was talking to Victor when Warren came in, "From this phone here, by the way! One phone call and he rushes off into the night to God knows where! You know what happened next: he threw himself into a hail of bullets. Got two young cops killed too, though they had absolutely nothing to do with it. Sheriff Wells invented his enemies and he paid for it dearly."

To say Warren was shocked was like saying we need air to breath. His face than twisted into an angry stare. "So, the policeman had to pay for doing police work?" He growled at the colonel, who realized that he didn't word it right.

"What? Warren, come on, I know we need the police. Of course, we need them!" Henderson explains to the rouge man, "There was a case here recently. A week before the rift opened, maybe less. A fellow named Rocco: he was a butcher here. His old mother Bertha went missing. And Bertha had either Alzheimer's, or old-age dementia, or is it the same thing?"

"I don't know. Maybe." Warren shrugged, not really knowing the difference.

Henderson shrugged too and continued, "Anyway, poor Bertha always forgot everything. Couldn't even recognize Rocco half the time. And then suddenly, she disappeared somewhere. So, what did our friend Rocco decide? Our Rocco decided that his mother was kidnapped by Yves Menke, another local butcher. His competitor, so to speak. Just think: a man finds his mother missing, his old sick mother who can remember her way to the toilet, and the first idea that come to his is that his competitor kidnapped her! He watches too many movies, I guess."

"No doubt." Warren snarked.

"So, what does Rocco do?" Henderson asked the obvious question, "Rocco picked up a hammer, went to Yves Menke's house, cracked open his skull, then broke his brother's skull, then broke his father's skull, and then went down to their basement, shouting: 'MOM, I'VE COME TO SAVE YOU!' And the basement was empty. Of course, it's fucking empty! And there he is, standing there. Goes back home, covered in blood, hammer in hand, and his mother is there, sitting in her armchair, quietly knitting. Walked around in the woods all day, then came back home. Doesn't even remember a thing about it."

Warren blinked in surprise, "God damn."

"God damn, indeed." Henderson nodded, continuing, "Now Rocco will be in prison for the rest of his life. But if he had just called the police, if the cops had combed the forest looking for poor Bertha, nothing would have happened. So, of course we need the police! Never imagine, Warren, that I think of the police as my enemy, I don't invent enemies for myself. I won't repeat the old sheriff's mistakes. Unlike the new sheriff."

"What?" Warren asked rhetorically, "You arranging a special performance for her, too?"

"I could, of course, but what happens after that?" The colonel asked him, explaining his conundrum, "Moreno says that after Gale Greenburg's death, there's no First Deputy in the department. So, if Sheriff Reed dies, anyone might take her place. And I do not need anyone. I need you." He emphasized to the surprised Warren by pointing at him.

"I'm sorry?" He asked, with a raised eyebrow.

"You're working in the sheriff's department, unofficially, right?" Henderson asked, "I think it's time to formalize your status." He then waved his left hand in front of him like the words appeared, "First Deputy Sheriff. It's a good start, eh?"

"Why would Lilly formally appoint me as First Deputy? She... doesn't like me." Warren admits, given all that has happened over the past few weeks.

"You're not listening to me at all, Warren!" Henderson replied, trying to convince Warren of his plan, "Lilly invented an enemy for herself and will do anything if it means she can get even with her enemy. Believe me. Run the Ties out of Sharpwood, and you'll get your post. She wouldn't even think for a second."

Warren chuckled, "I'm not sure she-"

"Just think, Warren, just think!" Henderson urged, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it, "The Ties didn't just flood the city with drugs, oh no, that would not be enough! The Ties killed her precious Sheriff Wells! Well, that's what she believes anyway. But would they stop at that? Oh no! The Ties killed Gale Greenburg. And was that enough? Not at all! Now the Ties killed her champion, Captain Carter! As far as I know, Warren, you made sure poor Lilly thought as much! You can be sure, Warren, hatred for her enemy has all but blinded our sheriff. Like her predecessor, like her predecessor's predecessor! Consider it a Sharpwood tradition!"

The silver haired rouge was silent for a minute as Henderson took a drag but then spoke with a slight hesitance, "Suppose she agrees, although I do not really believe she will, I would need to deliver and take out these Ties."

"Is that a problem?" Henderson asked, exhaling the smoke from his cigarette, "I thought you were an experienced cop."

"I don't even know where their headquarters are." Warren admits that he has a bit of an ego when it comes to his police work, but he acknowledges his limits.

"But I do!" Henderson says to a surprised Warren, "I learned a lot from our distinguished young student, Arthur Shriller. The scholar couldn't be held in isolation without books. He traded all the valuable secrets of the insidious Neckties for the Viscount de Bragelonne, can you imagine?"

Warren sighed, "Even if I can-"

He was interrupted by the phone on the wall ringing, causing Henderson to stand up, "That must be Victor! Don't worry, Warren, she'll agree! You'll see! She'll agree without hesitation. Call me when you've made the deal, just don't leave it too long!" But before he went to the phone, he picked up a newspaper and set it on Warren's lap, "Here, a little souvenir from Lansing."

The silver haired rouge just grabbed it, got up from his seat and left the compound as Henderson got back on the phone with Victor. But when he got outside, he stopped and stared down at the newspaper with a shaking hand.

"GOVENOR: WARREN KALLINGER IS AMERICA'S PUBLIC ENEMY #1, AND HE WILL NOT ESCAPE PUNISHMENT. MULTIPLE SUPERHEROES VOW TO CATCH KALLINGER. MULTIPLE TERRORIST AND RADICAL ORGANIZATIONS CONDEMN THE BOMBING OF DETROIT. JUSTICE LEAGUE PREOCCUPIED."

His blood boiled, his breath became shorter and more ragged with each passing second as he stared at the newspaper, his teeth grinded against each other, his eyes becoming almost bloodshot from the stress. His heart was pounding against his ribs with his hand crushing the paper in his hand, wishing that the damned thing would just go up in-

Suddenly, the newspaper burst into flames. ***

Warren yelped in surprise, dropping the flaming newspaper to the snowy ground. It continued to go up in flames as the burning paper shriveled into a ball before a creaking groan was heard and the ball curled into itself, blackening and solidifying. The flames then began seizing and it puttered out, leaving only the obsidian-like orb on the ground, which then proceeded to break apart and crumble into dust.

"...What the fuck?" Was all Warren could say to express his reaction.

December 15

Sharpwood Police Department

7:30PM

Lilly entered the station after going out for something, when she found Jamie and Corey standing in the hallway.

"Oh, Jamie, Corey, great!" Lilly exclaimed as she walked up to the two, "Come help me move some papers from Sheriff Wells' office. A lot of papers and some other stuff to. Come on, let's get going."

The two looked at each other before Jamie spoke, "Sheriff Wells' office? I thought we... Aren't we not allowed to enter his office?"

"You guys don't need to go inside." Lilly said, "Just wait in the hall. I'll take it all out, and you can help get it downstairs. I'll get some twine or something to tie up the stacks of folders."

Not another word was said as Lilly entered the office of Sheriff Wells when suddenly Jack Graves comes in and walked there, asking curtly, "Is Sheriff Reed here?"

"Well, yeah. But she said-" Corey said but Jack didn't listen as he shoved his way into Sheriff Wells' office. Neither of the two cared, having grown used to the strict and tough attitude of the guy.

"...Say, Corey?" Jamie abruptly asked the man by him, as they were waiting for Jack and Lilly to get out of the office, "Have you been noticing anything... Well, strange around town lately?"

The shaved officer put a hand on his chin and said, "Huh. Now that you mention it, I did notice that the streets have been emptier than I'd ever seen."

"I know. Betty kept calling me at 9:00, saying that there were these freaks going into the forest." Jamie said, shivering at seeing the freaks himself a few nights ago at his house, "Betty and I haven't been able to sleep well unless I have my gun by the nightstand. Hell, the kids and the dog are too scared to go outside now."

"Damn." Corey blinked owlishly, before he remembers something from the other day, "Now that you mention it, I saw this homeless guy that was sleeping by my house the other day. He seemed normal but when I looked closer, his teeth seemed wrong. Like they were fangs. And when he yawned, I saw that he had two snake-like tongues."

Jamie blinked owlishly, "Yeesh."

"I know." Corey nodded in agreement.

"Besides that... I don't know. Since the beginning of the month, I feel like things are watching me." Jamie says, rubbing the back of his head, "No matter where I go. To Kanayan's, to the station, to the house. It's been driving me nuts!"

"Tell me about it." Corey replied, "I talked to Charlie about it, and he feels the same way. Same with Bradhi, Kurosawa, and even Shini. All the stuff that's been happening since the whatchamacallit has been bugging me."

Suddenly, a buzz came from Jamie's pocket, causing him to pull out and look at his phone for a second before he sighed in exasperation, "Look. Another disappearance."

"Jesus, another one?!" Corey asked incredulously, getting a nod as Jamie showed him his phone. Disappearances have skyrocketed in Sharpwood since the opening of the rift, so much so that the population of the city has been cut in half. It was a blessing in disguise as now they had less mouths to feed but still, they had to find those that had gone missing.

"Yep, another." Jamie confirmed, "This time it's that young dyke couple from Saint Street."

"Jesus." Corey sighed in annoyance, "Alright, add it to the rest. We'll tell Mr. Graves later."

The two cops nodded to each other before their talk was interrupted when Jack came out of Sheriff Wells' office alone. He looked at the pack of cigarettes in Corey's pocket, and then asked, "Give me one." Corey didn't protest, pulling out a single cigarette and giving it to Jack, who then pulled out a lighter and took a drag. Just after that, he walks off without another word.

1 minute later...

Warren walked into his office, before looking back out for anybody that was nearby. Confirming that he was alone, Warren flicked some of the ashes off his cigarette before he grabbed the rotary phone and dialing in the number for Colonel Henderson.

"It's me." Warren answered Henderson who was on the line, "Yeah, already done. She agreed. ...Very." He then paused to ponder for a second, "Only if you agree to say that you volunteered. Okay, that's fine. Can you have Moreno bring me everything in writing?" He paused again to hear the answer, "Excellent."

He hung up and took another drag while smirking. Everything was coming together.

December 18

The Neckties' Headquarters

11:30PM

Today was the day. Today was when the Sharpwood Police and the Smugglers banded together to take down the Neckties.

It actually took Warren quite a bit of his skills at negotiation to get Lilly to agree to this, but he told her than the smugglers were at least helping Sharpwood while the Neckties weren't. Judging by the look on Henderson's face, he just gained a lot more respect from the colonel due to that comment. Lilly was still a little miffed, but he still managed to convince her to let this slide.

Upon 11:00, the group of 25 departed to the Neckties' headquarters; the old circus that was abandoned for at least forty years. According to Lilly, they had been closed down due to a series of kidnappings and murders and to avoid scandal. The circus relocated to a new town but left the tent and booths behind. Despite the rumors turning out to be false, nobody took it down because 'it gave them the creeps.'

Warren didn't personally find clowns creepy, only when they were intentionally made to be creepy.

Still, they stayed at the outskirts of the headquarters to set up their raid. The police cars and carrier vans all lined as a pseudo-barricade with a squad going in just after Warren would scout the area with a sniper rifle just to be sure.

Warren lined his sights with the scope and looked around. But then he gained a shocked expression at something. Warren lowered the rifle and wiped his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing anything before bringing the scope back up to his eye and looking around the area again. After another moment, he lowered the rifle again with a shocked expression.

"There's no one there."

The cops and smugglers looked at him incredulously before Charlie got up onto the car and grabbed the rifle. "Bullshit!" He said as he took it into his hands and scouted the area with it, only to lower it with a shocked expression, "Holy shit, he's right. There's not a single Necktie in sight."

Everyone else were both shocked and confused but some got turns with the sniper rifle and saw the sight of the empty headquarters of the Neckties. After a minute, Warren ordered that they all go in and investigate, maybe they could simply just catch them off guard and they could take them down.

But as they got to the gates of their headquarters, they all saw that there were no tire tracks on the snow and all the Neckties' cars and trucks were still within the confines of the metal fences that surrounded the headquarters. Hell, the gates themselves were still locked with chains and padlocks, undisturbed and resting peacefully even after one of the smugglers cut it off with the bolt cutters.

The place was as quiet as a tomb, the crates full of drugs and ferry cans of gasoline were left untouched while slowly being covered with snow, most of the lights were off, and the only sounds present were the sounds of the bristling wind and the footstep of the cops and smugglers trudging through the half foot deep snow. The group walked through the pried open entrance and saw that there were indeed no Neckties in sight, like they had just vanished.

"I don't get it, colonel." One of the smugglers rubbed the back of his head while talking to Henderson, "Shriller said that this was where they were hiding."

"And the college boy had no reason to lie." Henderson replied, taking a drag from his cigarette, "All of you comb the place! Find out where those rats went!"

Warren turned to the cops, yelling while motioning to Henderson, "What he said!"

The group nod and spread out, the cops searching south and east while the smugglers searched the north and west. Warren and Lilly looked around for any sign of the Neckties, but they came up empty while Henderson remained at the gate.

After ten minutes, they all regrouped at the gate to report their finds. Or rather lack thereof.

"We haven't found shit!" Charlie yelled, throwing his hands up in annoyance as he and the other cops walk back to the main entrance. The smugglers were in a similar mood, with Henderson knowing immediately that they didn't find anything.

"Maybe somebody snitched, and the Ties fucked off before we got here." Warren suggested to Henderson, who shook his head.

"No, our college boy kept saying this is where it was. What reason would he have to lie?" Henderson replied, with some of the cops voicing that he had a point.

Suddenly, a loud crash was heard. The cops and smugglers all jumped and drew their weapons, but they saw that nothing in sight had crashed. Just then, the sound of screams and laughter filled the air, spooking everyone further, until they saw that the entrance to the circus tent was alit from the inside. As if adding to the insidiousness that was being irradiated from the tent, circus music began playing from the interior while sounds of slurping, gulping, and scrapping joined the screams and laughter.

The colonel and Warren looked at each other, more than a little nervous before they quietly motioned for everyone to move towards the tent. The group slowly trudged towards the tent, guns raised, some of them have fearful expressions while others were visible trying to keep their composure. As they got closer, the dread all were feeling grew, nerves breaking from the pressure, so many of them looked ready to run away but were too terrified to do so.

With a deep breath, Warren slowly advanced to the wooden raggedy door, extending an arm to grasp the doorknob. Time seemed to stop as he touched the knob, before it seemed to speed to impossible lengths. He turned it to the left but stopped and looked back at Henderson, raising his hand slowly unfurling his fingers as a countdown. Henderson caught on immediately and silently ordered for his men to ready their guns, as did Lilly and the other cops. Clenching his fist, Warren twisted the doorknob and the group barged into the circus tent.

None of them, expect possibly Warren, were prepared for what they saw next.

All of the Neckties were there but they had been mutated or mutilated beyond all recognition. One of them had their fingers so deep in the skin that it seemed as if their arms had fused to their chest and their hand fused to their cheeks, another one's hands had been replaced with crude prosthetics composed of knives and blades, another had their eyelids and lips removed with the eyes black like void itself, and another had metal fangs in place of teeth and his chest cavity torn open by barbed wire for all to see. Many more were there, mutilated and mutated before the worst nightmares of any and all that were still sane.

Everyone was frozen with horror, too scared to move, too horrified to breath, too mortified to blink. Until...

"OPEN FIRE!" Warren and Henderson roared.

Nobody wasted a second, their fingers pulling the trigger as hard as they could. Hundreds of bullets speared out of their guns and into the air, hitting any of the hideously mutated Neckties before they could react. Tainted blood, bone, viscera, and whatever fluids that came out of these things spewed from their wounds through the air like high pressure fountains, felling all of them within half a minute or less. Even when the last one fell to the ground and reduced to mulch by the sheer number of bullets, they kept firing, shattering bottles, splintering crates, and eviscerating the bags of cocaine and heroin.

When they stopped, the interior was reduced to a bullet hole ridden wasteland with shards of glass, wood, powder, and blood staining the floor. All the mutated and mutilated Neckties were all on the ground dead, some unable to be and never will be identified as they were torn apart beyond all recognition, but the ones whose faces were intact showed expression of utter rapturous bliss being etched on their faces.

The cops and smugglers all stopped to pant, they fired their weapons while screaming their lungs out, but their faces were all set to horrified or ready to vomit, the latter of which happened to some of the rookies. Warren felt Lilly cling to him in fear, her expression set to one of pure terror. He could understand why.

"Charlie." Warren ordered his most loyal cop, who immediately stood at attention, "Take some of the cops and grab some ferry cans. We're burning this place to the ground."

He nodded and took some others out to the cars, while the rest of them stayed behind to look around the place. Now that they had time to catch their breath, they all saw that the place had been stocked with empty crates, their contents violently from their boxes and then greedily consumed as if desperate to feel good, several syringes laid on the ground that looked used or broken, and the floor was stained white with cocaine and heroin powder.

"Looks like the Neckties got high on their own stock." One of the smugglers commented, more than a little disturbed by the place.

"I'm pretty neither heroin or cocaine does this." Jamie snarked, before he saw something by the crates, "Or was a weird grey paste. Or in a jar."

The others turned to where he was looking and saw that there were bunches of these jars that contained a grey paste. It was then that a few realized that some of the jars had been licked clean or were on the floor in pieces. It was then that Warren noticed that there was a journal by the entrance. It seemed untainted and had no oddities other than that it had some blood on it.

Unseen to Warren, Lilly, ever curious and because of a feeling she couldn't explain, took one of the jars and stuffed it into her coat. And unseen to everyone else, Warren took the journal and stuffed it into his coat.

"What the hell do you think happened, Mr. Graves?" One terrified cop asked Warren, who had just hidden the journal in the interior of his coat.

"Well, judging by the empty jars..." Warren trailed off before motioning to the corpses with his revolver, "They took a sample of the stuff, got addicted to it, and then devolved into... whatever the hell they were doing to themselves."

Most of the cops and smugglers shivered, not wanting to know what happened to this people. A few minutes later, Charlie and the others came back with the gas cans. The others immediately grabbed them and began dousing everything they could see in the tent with gasoline, dosing the walls, floors, crates, furniture, bodies, and whatever they could see.

After a few minutes, they all created a trail of gasoline that led from the interior of the tent all the way to their cars. When everyone got out of range of any potential blast radius, Warren took out a cigar and lit it up while walking towards the trail.

"Sorry, Neckties." Warren quips as he flicks his lighter closed and took a smoke, "But Imma smoker."

He flicked his cigar out of his hand, flinging it to the trail of gasoline. The trail quickly ignited and blazed as it trailed back to the tent, which burst into an inferno that engulfed the Neckties headquarters. Warren shielded his eyes letting out a big "Whoa!" along with several of the others as the whole forest was awash in the light produced by the explosion.

The boom shook the forest as snow was blown of the branches of the numerous pine trees, the flames bellowed through the sky, and with that the Neckties, the infamous gang of drug dealers that killed Sheriff Wells simply ceased to be.

Warren breathed out in relief before he turned around to the cops and smugglers. "Everyone... From now on," He pointed at the flaming tent with his thumb, "Tonight never happened."

The cops all nodded as did the smugglers as they walked off into the night.

December 19

Warren's cabin

12:30AM

After getting back to his shack for the night, Warren pulled out the journal he snuck out from the Neckties' headquarters. It was an ordinary looking journal with a leather cover, but other than some bloodstains, there was nothing tainted about it.

It was only when he started reading it that it all began to click.

December 1: The two guys we sent to kill Jack Graves never came back. When the boss found out it was Henderson and the smugglers, he was furious. From what I know now, we have to keep it on the down low now.

December 2: We have been on the lookout ever since Captain Carter arrived in Sharpwood. Apparently, he and this Jack Graves are having a competition on who will take over the station. This bought us some time as those two will be too focused on winning than to pay attention to our gang activities.

December 8: Captain Carter was killed by the smuggler's, and they framed it like we did it! Those fuckers! Now we got even more to worry about from the sheriff! Tom fled the gang just to get out while he could though I suspect it was more due to him constantly being the one to go to the cleaners to clean our suits. Still though, we better play it quiet, or we're screwed.

December 10: Today was a weird one. The Church of Bovos came by and told us that they had something that we could sell that would make us rich. It was this grey paste in a jar that they claim is the ichor of Bovos, though they told us not to try some for ourselves. Whatever it is, I got a bad feeling about it.

December 13: Johnny went crazy! Apparently, he got curious and tried some of that grey stuff for himself. The guy was practically rabid and trying to eat more of the stuff! We ended up having to tie him down before he could hurt anyone else before the boss put a bullet between Johnny's eyes. After that, we decided to just wait for a while before we sell some of this grey stuff.

December 18: More. More. Moremoremoremoremoremoremoremoremormormor MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE MORE ME MORE MOR MOR! GIVE ME MORE! I WANT MORE! GIVE ME MORE! GIVE ME MORE! GIVE ME MORE OF THE GREY!

The rest of the journal was nothing but random scribbles and drawings of stick figure fighting or fornicating.

Warren closed the journal and placed it by the other Chaos related stuff he had collected from his time here. One of the massive amount of papers that he had pinned to the walls had one name that he just circled in red.

The Church of Bovos.

Deciding he was in out of his head, Warren dials the number that E gave him into his phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey, E. It's me, Warren."

"Warren! What's up, buddy?"

"Not much. Just found out that Sharpwood does in fact have Chaos Corruption." Warren snarked, "Other than that, I'm perfect."

"I thought so." E answered, his tone sounding unsurprised, "You think you can handle it?"

Warren hesitated slightly but gave his answer, "Maybe, I just became First Deputy of the Police Department here at Sharpwood (long story), but I might need some help."

E was silent before Warren heard typing and E mumbling something that he couldn't make out. Suddenly, a text appeared on Warren's phone, which contained a link to an image. Warren would have clicked on it, but E spoke before he could.

"That link leads to an image which is actually a cognitohazard." E told Warren, his tone almost grave, "When recorded by sight, it'll refigure their neuropathways so that they obey your every command to the letter. Just text it to all of the officers and they'll be following your orders no matter what. Of course, only use it unless you truly believe you need to."

Warren understandably looked a little disturbed that E had that but relented, "Alright. Thanks, E. If I need help or if I've finished the job, I'll call you."

"See ya."

That was when his employer hung up and Warren decided he's had enough excitement for one day. He just walked out of his secret room and went to bed without even dressing into his nightwear. The man just collapsed on his bed and promptly passed out.

It never occurred to the man that it was his birthday.

Marriot Inn, Dearborn

2:30AM

Jose collapsed on his bed with the brunette in his arms, both just finished a night of non-stop lovemaking. He brought the woman into his arms, who laid into his chest in contentment. Jose smirked, falling asleep. If he died right now, he'd be content.

Jane smirked as her prey fell asleep, slowly slithering out of his arms, wiping the blood from her lips and licking it from her fangs. She watched as the man in the bed slowly either lost coconsciousness or died from her drinking his blood, just like she had done with many others this past week. Jane had lost count on how many she had done this to for the past week and a half, but they were worth it if it mean she could find Warren.

"Alright, Jose," She whispered to no one as she took the briefcase by his bed and opened it, "Let's see what you know about Warren Kallinger."

The killer had heard through the grapevine (and by grapevine, she meant an FBI agent that she seduced) that this man was working for the FBI, but he was apparently being paid a large sum of money to avoid a town called Sharpwood. Sure, she could have gone to Sharpwood right away, but she had to be perfect in her hunt for the most wanted man in America.

Jane flipped through a bunch of papers but the one that caught her interest was a sheet that showed a weekly transfer of $10,000. And there happened to be an address and a picture that came with it. One that showed Warren by a shack or cabin. So, not only was Warren in a small town where she could terrorize after she killed him, but he was far enough away so nobody would be able to save him.

A sadistic grin grew on Jane's face as she purrs, "There you are, Warren."

She slowly slipped on her costume that she had hidden under Jose's bed, before she turned to the slain man on the bed. Grinning, Jane muttered as she slowly slid on her gold mask, "Thanks for the night, sugar."

With that, Jane left the hotel and began her hunt anew.

Sharpwood Police Station

11:45PM

Lilly just sat there at a desk with an empty expression on her face. She should be happy. She should be elated. She should be getting drunk and cheering at the top of her lungs until she woke up hoarse. But instead, she felt nothing. The Neckties were gone. They had made sure of that; all of those freaks were dead and gone forever.

They killed Sheriff Wells, they killed Gale, they killed Captain Carter, and they nearly killed her. Yet now that they're gone, she felt nothing. The hole inside her wasn't filled, if anything it only widened to a depth that she didn't think was possible. When she got to her home, she just spent the whole day in her bed, crying her eyes out in emptiness.

Lilly tried to convince herself that she should be happy that they were and to an extent, she was. But, no matter what, she couldn't escape that filling of emptiness that felt like it was hollowing her innards to where it hurt immensely. Yet she could stop the tears.

There came in Warren, his hair tied up in a ponytail, dressed in a white dress shirt with a black tie under a furred aviator jacket, black pants with a leather belt, and his black leather boots that he seemed to wear always.

Warren said nothing as he walked up to the box that was beside Lilly, opening it. He pulled out and put on a pair of aviator sunglasses, his revolver in a leather holster, and a large knife that was almost in a leather holster, then he picked up some keys on a ring.

"It hasn't been cleaned." Lilly said abruptly, still looking down on the table.

"Hm?" Warren made a sound as he looked at her.

"There, upstairs." She motioned with her hand to the upstairs, "Sheriff Wells never cleaned the office."

"Don't worry, I'll get it straightened out." Warren comforted her, putting the keys into his inner coat before he picked up a silver deputy's badge and placed it on the left breast of his coat, "How do I look?"

"Like a police chief." Lilly finished, barely having the energy to care. Warren just clicks his tongue in pity, twirling the keys to the office as he walked upstairs, leaving the sheriff to her lonesome.

But for some reason, her thoughts were still at that jar of grey paste she snuck out from the Neckties' headquarters.

December 20

Niflheim

10:30PM

The newly anointed First Deputy placed the empty mug down on the bar which the bartender immediately picks up and refills. She gives it back to Warren who immediately begins downing it immediately. Finally, he had gone to that bar that Henderson nagged him about, and now that he had that star, nobody would say anything to him.

"After the sixth round, if you're still telling me, you didn't miss all this, I swear: There'll be mushroom soup in the seventh!" Henderson laughed as Warren downed half his mug. The colonel had come beside him as they got to celebrate the beginnings of their grand plan to take over Sharpwood.

"I couldn't be able to tell the difference. Your beer's shit." Warren slurred, as Henderson took a drink. It was sour, like made of fermented lemons, but fucking damn, does it get ya some drunk.

"Ha! It's your beer now, First Deputy Graves!" Henderson laughed, placing his glass down for the bartender to refill, "From now on, you're one of us!"

Warren chuckled, "Doesn't make the beer any less sour."

"Ah, you're picky!" The colonel laughs again, "That's good, it's good! The higher your position, the higher your standards! When you officially become sheriff, we'll have to make sure you've got bourbon on tap!"

"I don't half running water." Warren requests.

"We'll fix that too!" Henderson laughs, "We'll fix everything! All for our new sheriff!"

Warren would have been happy, but he was a little worried. Now, when they do their 'performance' on Lilly and when he became sheriff, Warren will definitely have to spill the beans on Chaos to the cops, Henderson, and the smugglers if they were gonna understand his suspicious activity. Then again, it may be good to as he needed all the help he could get.

The deputy sheriff just sighed in frustration and drank more, tasting the sour beer as it guzzled down his throat.

Warren's shack

11:55PM

Warren just sat on his desk watching something on the internet. It was a nice day; he had slowly gotten used to his new position as First Deputy and he finally could go to that bar that Henderson kept before his windows were illuminated by car lights.

"What else does he want?" He groans as he rose from his chair and walked to the door. It was probably Henderson wanting to tell him about the 'performance' they were gonna set up for Lilly. He opened the door, only to see that it was his truck's headlights that were on. Warren groaned and walked to the truck, opening the door to the driver's seat and seeing that the part that control the lights were set to on.

"God, I need a new truck." Warren muttered, turning off the lights to his truck before walking back to his shack and closed the door, only for two arms to wrap around his neck and pulled him down to his knees. The man tried to struggle out of the grip of the stranger, but their grip was iron.

"Been a long time... Warren." A sultry voice piped through his ears.

Eyes wide with realization, Warren breathed out, "Jane?"

"Oh~" The costumed woman cooed snaking her arms around Warren's chest and turning his face to hers, letting him drink in her beautiful face and Luminant red eyes, "You still remember me. I'm flattered."

Jane double-knees Warren in the back, sending him to the floor as she backflipped through the air and landed on her feet, just inches away from his door. It was only then after rolling to his back that he saw her in full; she had a slender yet voluptuous figure while she was clad in a leather costume that articulated her body down to every curve with her having a silver mask that she twirled with her finger and a bejeweled saber on her back.

She grinned both seductively and sadistically at him gazing at her figure, "Oh, like what you see?" She cooed while prowling towards Warren like a cat.

It was then that Warren saw the crimson Star of Chaos on her costume. A horrified expression dawned on his face as he connected the dots on what happened to the woman that he used to date.

"Surprised?" Jane raised an eyebrow, amused by the expression on his face, "Well, I can't blame you. Ever since our relationship was exposed, my career was utterly ruined. But after I came across this costume, I've been having the time of my life. Having my way with whoever I want, killing however I wanted, doing whatever the fuck I want, however the fuck I want."

She let out an insane laugh, "Imagine what everyone is gonna think if they see you here: an degenerate of a man shitting himself in fear for his life! Originally, I wanted to bring you in so I could get justice for the people of Detroit! But you know what? I don't care about that shit anymore! I just wanted the thrill of hunting you down!"

"What now? Are you gonna kill me?" Warren growled, not giving her the satisfaction of showing fear.

"Oh... no." Jane drawled with her face still having a wide sadistic grin, "No, no, no, no, no, no, no. I've lost interest in killing you. Now, that I see that you have degraded as much as I have, I'll let you live for now, thinking of the myriad of things could do to you." With another look at him, she gave a seductive smile, "Maybe longer if you give me do whatever I want~"

Warren rolled his eyes. Typical women.

Before Jane could react, he grabbed her by the shoulders and bit hard onto her neck. Jane let out a loud gasp with a shocked expression but as Warren bit harder, her expression changed to one of utter bliss before she bit him on the neck as well. Warren lifted her up as Jane wrapped her legs around his waist and she slowly undressed from her costume.

The night was filled with the sounds of grunt and banging for the rest of the night.

December 21

Sharpwood Police Department.

8:30AM

Lilly hums as she takes a drink from her mug of coffee, looking over the papers on her desk. It was relatively quiet, but she slowly noticed that Warren was nowhere in sight. Looking at the time on her phone, Lilly saw that Warren was late. She frowned: that's odd, Warren's never late.

Thinking that something's wrong, the sheriff got onto her car and drove off to Warren's shack.

Warren's Cabin.

8:50AM

Jane took a drag from her cigarette as she laid back on the couch, naked as a jaybird while Warren was snoring away on the floor, still having his dress shirt, pants, and shoes on. Now she remembered why she fell in love with Warren in the first place, which would make it all the sweeter when she turns him into her own personal toy for her to play with until either of them dies.

Then there was a knock on the door. Raising an eyebrow, Jane took out the gun that she had hidden in her costume before getting up. She then took out a black bathrobe that she'd stolen from a supermarket during her hunt for Warren from the bag she's taken with her, wrapping herself in it. Making sure it was tightly fitted on her, Jane grabbed the gun and answered the door.

It was Lilly, who seemed confused before she saw the gun in the woman's left hand. Jane had a smile as she leaned against the doorframe with the gun in her hand pressed against the left side of the doorframe. "Can I help you?" She asked, giving a faux sweet smile and shaking the gun for added effected.

"I..." Lilly stuttered, more than a little intimidated by this woman, "I'd like to speak to-"

"Oh, what a beautiful star you have!" Jane cooed in a sickly-sweet tone, tilting her head in mockery, "You must be the sheriff?"

Lilly flinched at that, trying and failing to steel her nerves, "Yeah, I'm Lilly. Lilly Reed."

"Jane. Jane Hendricks." The seductress greeted in a sweet tone and a sadistic smile that said 'I wanna rape you until you die screaming.'

"I... I'd like to talk to Jack Graves." Lilly asked, lamely still really intimidated by this woman.

Jane blinked, now genuinely confused, "'Jack Graves?'" Suddenly, both of them heard a groan and saw Warren getting up from the floor with him buttoning and zipping up his pants, tightening his belt, before turning to the door and seeing the two.

"Oh, shit." Warren groaned, motioning to one than the other and vice versa, "Jane, this is Lilly. Lilly, this is Jane." He then muttered to the Sheriff, "I'm ready, let's go to the station."

"Say, can I-"

"Help yourself." Warren interrupted and brushed Jane off, too hungover to care as he walked out of his cabin and got into his truck, after brushing the snow off. Jane paused, she was gonna say that she was gonna glute herself on all of his food and liquor. But hey, she wasn't gonna look a gift horse in the mouth. Lilly looked at the seductress, who gave an evil smile and motioned with her gun to get going.

The sheriff wasted no time speed-walking back to her car, driving off after Warren leaving Jane alone in Warren's cabin to do whatever the hell she wants. It was then that Jane noticed a room that she hadn't before, now that it was morning. Curious, she opened the door and was greeted by a pleasant surprise.

It was a small room, no bigger than a closet but there were several newspapers pinned to the wall. One read, "MORE PEOPLE MISSING. CHURCH OF BOVOS TO POSSIBLY BLAME." Another read, "STRANGE DEFORMITIES FOUND ON CORPSES." Not only that but there were several boxes that had all kinds of drawings, newspaper articles, and journal entries that all take. The cherry on top was a jar that held some intestines in a green fluid, only for it to reveal a maw of fangs when she tapped the glass of the jar.

"Warren..." Jane could only breath, more impressed than horrified, "What the fuck have you been doing?"

Now, she lusted after him more than ever.

Sharpwood Police Department

11:00PM

After they got finished for the day, Warren and Lilly met in his office to discuss what to do. When Warren explained it all to her that Jane was his old fling and that she was here to kill him, Lilly freaked out while he tried to think of what to do.

"You knew this could happen," Lilly seethed at Warren who just looked out of the office windows, "You knew, you knew, you knew, you knew! You knew, but you didn't do anything about it! You're a fugitive, and you don't even have a plan if they come for you!"

"You knew it could happen too." Warren replies, still not looking at her. "You knew just as much as I did."

Lilly glared at him, "You brought her here! You! By you actions or your inactions, but it was you, not someone else!" As Warren finally turned to her, she then facepalmed, muttering out, "God, what a fool I am, thinking you'd have some kind of plan! What could the plan be if you don't even know what she's going to do?! What can we plan, when we don't even know what she's doing right now, there at your house?!"

"I'll sort this out." Warren tried to calm her down, knowing that if he could keep Jane occupied and entertained, it would buy them a week or two to make a plan to deal with her, "I don't know how, but I'll figure it out. I'll deal with everything."

Lilly wasn't having it, "Well, tell me, Warren, tell me how! Because they only option I see is that we're both going to prison! Because of you!"

"I SAID I'LL FIGURE IT OUT!" He yelled at her, losing his patience with her whining.

Lilly lets out a single humorless laugh, before nearly screaming her lungs out at him, "WELL, THAT'S NOT ENOUGH, WARREN! I CAN'T SIT AND WAIT UNTIL YOU 'FIGURE IT OUT!'"

The room fell silent after that, and Warren then got that look that immediately made her regret her words.

"It's not enough?" He started before walking towards her, continuing with his sentence, "You can't sit and wait? Seriously?"

Lilly gulped silently backing up as Warren got closer.

"I thought that's all you did, sitting and waiting. Isn't that your talent? To sit and wait for the rest of us to solve your problems for you? Isn't that, right?"

She continues to back away with a fearful expression as he presses on.

"Tell me you haven't been sitting and waiting all these years, hiding behind your precious Sheriff Wells, never learning the first thing about police work."

Lilly finally backing into the wall though Warren is barely 30 feet from her.

"That guy, Gale, didn't he do everything for you?" He presses on her, continuing when she shook her head, "No? What about me, don't I do all your work for you? And Captain Carter, don't pretend you didn't try to dump all your problems on him. Wake up, Lilly! You can't figure anything out, and the only thing your good at is finding other people who will sort everything out for you!"

Warren got closer, grabbing her by the shoulder so she couldn't back up more.

"And now you're telling me that because of me, we're going to jail?" Warren continued to press into Lilly, who squirmed in fear, "You didn't fuck yourself, huh? And now I'm the guilty one? So, the problem is me, right Lilly? All of your problems are because of me?"

He then did something that she never expected: Warren pulled out his gun, placed it in her hands, and then forcing the barrel to his chest.

"Well, sort it out, Lilly." Warren seethed, daring her to do the deed, "You're still the sheriff here, right? You're afraid that I'll tell everyone how you covered for a fugitive? It's a problem, Lilly. Come on, solve it yourself. For the first time in your life."

Lilly was too stunned to do anything, let along pull the trigger and kill him.

"What, you don't want the gun? You know what? You're right, fuck the gun! Too much noise!" Warren yells as he yanks the gun out of her hands and slammed it on the desk, before pulling out his knife and putting it into her hands, forcing it near his heart, "It's very sharp, you could easily kill a bull with this thing. Even a meek girl like you could manage it. One move, Lilly. One stroke, and all your problems will simply melt away."

Even with that, even with the prospect of ridding him, Lilly still was too afraid to do the deed.

"What, you're not ready? Not ready to solve your own problems?" Warren demanded after seeing her hesitance, taking the knife out of her hands and holstering it in its leather sheath, "Well, stop fooling yourself and trust the guy who's gonna do everything for you."

The First Deputy then left his office without another word, leaving the shaken woman in there alone as she absorbs his words.

Warren's cabin

11:30PM

The First Deputy eventually returned to his cabin with a bag full of bottles of liquor for both him and Jane, though she got six and he got one. Turns out, she literally ate everything in his refrigerator and cabinet, food, soda, liquor and all. And somehow, she was still thirsty for more alcohol.

Hell, she barely seemed to gain a single pound from the water weight alone, with her explaining that her body now somehow processes food so that nothing causes her to gain any fat. And the fact that she downed three of the bottles that he bought probably meant that she now had a high tolerance to alcohol.

"Well, what am I now, Jane?" Warren asked her after she finished her third bottle of liquor and as she laid there on his couch on her chest with her legs up like a child that was interested in something, "Your toy? Your prey? Your... hostage, I guess?"

She giggled, "Hostage? Do you think this entire fucking thing is that simple? It's just that simple, just one word?"

"You'll have to explain this somehow," Warren said, pacing around the living room of his cabin, "If we get... If I get caught and then they'll take you away for all the stuff you've done."

"Sure, I'll probably get the death sentence." Jane waved it off with a care, before she started mocking him, "You know, Warren: It's a miracle that you still haven't been caught yet. A real fucking miracle. True, it's also a miracle that I haven't been caught either, but I digress. I thought you'd be smart enough to stay invisible! I figured that a former detective knows that in a situation like this is that your only option is to climb into the darkest hole you can find, and don't stick your head out!"

During that rant, Jane got up from the couch and sultrily wrapping her arms around his chest, the fabrics of her bathrobe rubbing against her skin as she rests her head on his shoulder.

"But no. Crawling in the mud is for criminals, right?" Jane continued to mock him, "Not for Warren Kallinger, the Angel of Death! Our Warren Kallinger is now First Deputy Sheriff, walking around in front of everyone with a beautiful star on his chest!" She laughed sadistically, "You really are a riot, you know Warren? Do you really not see that sooner or later she's going to give you up?"

That got him to look down at her with a glare that was meet with an amused smile from Jane, "She can't give me up. She needs me. She knows she needs me."

"Oh?" Jane gave another amused smile, "You sure know how to convince people they need you. I can't deny you have a knack for it! There's a lot of people that are convinced that you're innocent. They believe you. And I should know," She then leans against his back, rubbing the leather on his jacket against her skin, "Cause I believe it too."

Warren simply exhaled and stared off, thankful for E that he was resistant to Chaos Corruption.

Sharpwood Police Department

11:50PM

Lilly slowly walked through the station, still reeling from Warren's rant. While he forced her to rely on him, the sheriff was still racked with paranoia and fear for that Warren would get caught and they would eventually arrest her for adding him.

Suffice to say, Lilly was stressed beyond belief.

But as she was pacing around her office, Lilly then saw that jar of grey paste that she had snuck back into the station. Lilly hesitated, given at what happened to the Neckties when they tried this. Though, just a little bit couldn't hurt, right?

Yet as she kept staring at it, a feeling came over her that she couldn't understand. A feeling that felt like she was burning up yet full of pleasure at the same time. It grew stronger as she grasped it in her hand and undid the cover. The young woman stuck a finger in the grey paste, taking some of it onto her finger like a spoon. Lilly then licks the paste off of her finger and smacked her lips, taking in the taste of it.

Suddenly, the world went blank as she fell down with the jar intact in her hand.

Sheriff Wells rushed toward her, bullets tearing into him with blood spewing as he screams and reaches to her, only to vanish in blue, pink, green, and red flames. A mass of eyes and limbs came from his ashes before it dissolved into plant-life.

Captain Carter simply inhaled as the rope slithered around his throat before the ground gave way and he fell ever downwards until the fleshy rope pulled taunt. When he looked up, his eyes were replaced with screaming maws of teeth.

Gale laid down on the ground, bleeding from his wounds and quickly decaying to bones but possessed enough strength to get a look at her. "I love you, Lilly." Was all that he could get out before he was rendered to dust and ash.

Lilly remained on the floor, foaming at the mouth as her eyes turned from an icy blue to a bright pink and tears ran down her cheeks, "I... I love you too, Gale." As she succumbed to the tired requirement of the body, several figures in robes approached her as her sight gave way to living dark.

December 22

Sharpwood Police Department

8:30AM

Warren hummed as he walked into the station, ready for another day at work and especially in a good mood as he had just gotten his uniform cleaned and his leather aviator jacket cleaned. And it was also a special day, for tonight where they were gonna plan their performance for Lilly. But he supposed he would have to have to explain why he came here and explain Chaos. He just hoped that Henderson wouldn't freak out like he thought he was gonna do if he was in the colonel's place.

But it was on his way to his office that Warren was greeted with an envelope that read: To Jack Graves. From Lilly Reed. Raising an eyebrow, Warren took off his sunglasses and read the letter that was in the envelope.

"Dear Warren: if you're reading this, then I've resigned as Sheriff of Sharpwood."

That sentence caught Warren to drop his sunglasses and nearly drop the letter.

"I thought that I could handle the position with you around, but after your speech about how pathetic I was last night, I finally broke. I couldn't take it anymore. And I don't care about what you do as Sheriff, just keep me out of it if you get caught. I don't know what I'll do now but I do know that, at least I'll be safe.

I'm sorry, Warren. But you wanted to be Sheriff, so here you go."

Warren stared at the letter for seconds but felt like hours before he ran up to his office and slammed the door shut. After locking it, he went to the red rotary phone and dialed in the number for Henderson.

"I need to talk to Liam Henderson... Look, it's important! Trust me! ...Sure, I'll hold." Warren spoke to the operator that picked it but before waiting a few minutes until the colonel picked up, "Hey, Henderson! I've got... news for you. Lilly just resigned. Yes. I know, I don't believe it either. Well, yeah, by technicality, I'm the sheriff now. Look, I'm as disappointed as you but don't look a gift horse in the mouth. Fine, whatever! Let's talk about this over some beers, will that cheer you up? Alright, see you tonight."

He hung up the phone before he got back to work. That was easier than he thought.

'Wait.' Warren suddenly thought, putting a hand to his chin, 'How did see know I wanted to be sheriff?'

The Church of Bovos monastery

10:30PM

Lilly's eyes fluttered open revealing a wooden ceiling over her head with lights hanging on wires. Groaning, the former Sheriff sat up from whatever she was laying on and looked around. Before her was a multitude of pews that were empty but well-polished, on the wall were banners that had the same symbol that Warren showed her back in November.

Suddenly, a figure in black baggy robes came into the room, walking slowly towards Lilly, who just realized that she was clothed in the same black robes with some tightly fitted attire underneath.

"Hello, Lilly." A familiar voice came from the robed figure, who pulled down their hood and revealed it to be Jane, "Glad to see you've come to us."

The former sheriff blinked, "What the hell are you talking about?"

Jane merely smiled, "Lilly, look at your hand."

Confused, Lilly looked down at her hands. She nearly screamed: Her right hand was covered by a dark red carapace that ended at her wrist while there were small spikes sitting below the wrist. Lilly stared at her mutated hand in sheer unadulterated horror before she felt a hand on her shoulder

"You're one of us now, Miss Reed." Jane said comfortingly to the clearly distressed younger woman, showing her the fangs that she had, "Now, you're free to do whatever you please."

Lilly, unable to grasp what is happening, merely fainted.

December 23

Sharpwood Police Department

5:00PM

The new Sheriff of Sharpwood simply hummed as he signed another paper and got done with another phone call from one of the families of yet another missing person's report. All of them were beginning to pile up and Warren was beginning to get sick of the paperwork. He had yet to tell Henderson or any of the officers because he was starting to get a little paranoid that they were in on the whole thing in Sharpwood.

With a sigh, Warren got up from his desk and walked to the window while rubbing his eyes, trying to mentally prepare himself for all the paperwork to come with all of this nonsense. But as he was looking outside the window, he noticed that there were two women standing by the station talking. Warren squinted his eyes while putting on his sunglasses to block the flare from all the snow and the scorched sky before his eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. The two women were Jane and Lilly.

Quickly going to the wall by the window to get out of sight, Warren quickly pulled out his phone and used that hacking software that E had given him to access the cameras and devices in Sharpwood. After a minute of sifting through all the feeds, he finally got the one that the two were closest to.

"Do you really think this plan will work?" Lilly asked Jane as they were walking down the street, "Warren's survived the bombing of Detroit. That should give an explanation on how lucky he is."

"Relax! We just need a place to catch him off guard and then we'll strike!" Jane hit her hands together for emphasis, the reason being for not gaining any attention was due to the streets being so empty, "Besides, we could strike at him either at his house or when he leaves work. What's your opinion?"

Lilly shook her head, "At his house, he'll be prepared. On his way back, he'll have his car to use as a getaway. I just need to make sure that Warren disappears and that you guys will take care of the rest when I get my job as sheriff back!"

"Oh, Lilly you bitch! You brainless bitch! You stupid brainless bitch!" Warren shouted at the phone, even though he knew that neither of them could hear him.

"Don't worry, Lilly." Jane waved off the former sheriff's concerns, "Trust me, if you go along with our plan, Warren will be gone. Henderson will be gone. You'll get your job back. And everything will be back to normal. In exchange, you turn a blind eye to all of our activities."

"Okay, but what if Warren figures out that you guys are planning something?" Lilly asked, "Besides, it's not like Warren's gonna go down without a fight. I should know." She muttered, rubbing her arm.

Jane just gave a sadistic smile, "Let's see him take out over 500 cultists with only a revolver." She then changed her tone to a more casual and easygoing one, "So, want some coffee?"

"Sure."

Warren stared at his phone before deactivating the software and sliding down on the wall, eyes wide and muttering, "Shit, shit, shit, shit!" He cursed standing up, closing the blinds, and sitting down at his desk, trying to think of a plan to try and come up with a plan to try and survive and counter the Church's plan.

He could call Henderson but there was no way that he would believe that a cult was after him. He could call E but he could be too busy to help him with this. He obviously couldn't call the authorities as they would discover his true identity and he'd get the electric chair.

Warren thought and pondered over any and all course of actions but couldn't find any that would ensure that he would stay alive past tonight. Taking a drink from a flask that Henderson gave to him as a present, Warren slowly calmed down and told himself to just act like he doesn't know anything and maybe they'll just toy with him so that he'll have a chance to catch them off guard and maybe he'll survive the next week or so.

Warren's cabin

11:00PM

"Relax! So long as we lure him to a place where we can ambush him, we'll be fine!" Jane informed Lilly over the phone about their plan, only to notice Warren pulling up into the driveway, "Oh, shit: he's here! Listen, I'll call you back!" She slammed the phone down and dove onto the couch, making it seem like she was waiting for him.

Just as he entered the cabin, she gave a playful smirk, "What took you so long?"

"I was fucking your mother." Was Warren's response.

For once, Jane was actually rendered silent before she burst into laughter, almost to the point where she nearly fell off the couch. She managed to pull herself together enough to wipe a tear from her eye, "That was awesome."

Warren didn't dignify her with a response.

"Anyway, remember when I said that this whole thing couldn't be summed up in one word? Well, I lied." Jane smiled at him, "It's actually really simple; you're my bitch. I play with you however I want, whenever I want, and in whatever way I want. So, you can't do anything."

"'Your bitch?'" Warren repeats incredulously, "Look at me, Jane, do I seem like your bitch? Somehow, I don't see the chains on my hands and feet! I could just break your neck right now and run! Does it look like I'm your captive?!"

"'Break my neck', ha!" Jane laughed, actually amused at his words, "Warren, if you didn't have so many things going on, I would have been dead already. Those are your chains, Warren. It's the fact that you refuse to leave or give up even when you know you can beat the situation, you're in. And that's why you can't beat me no matter what you do."

With that, the corrupted woman kissed him on the cheeks and skipped off to his bed, leaving the utterly exhausted man alone in the living room. Staring at the hall that Jane left into, Warren began breathing heavily as he didn't know what to do now. Panicking, he realized that he has to get away, grabbing a bottle of scotch and a red scarf before he got back into his truck and sped off to parts unknown.

Unaware that the second he left the cabin, Jane immediately bolts from the bed and called Lilly on the rotary phone, "Hey, it's me. Yeah, he fell for it. He just left. He took a right, I think. Have someone trail him so that we can get rid of him while we have the chance." She ended the call and got dressed in her costume, attaching the saber to her back and putting the silver mask on her face before she ran out of the cabin and into the cold night.

Sawyer's street, Sharpwood

11:45PM

The snow blazed and blistered with the wind akin to blades of air as Warren's truck treaded through the roads and fields of white. Snowfall thick as bellows of cold stream with the mountains and forest slightly visible. As he neared a gas station, he stopped at the side of the road. The place was empty, and the gas station was closed for the night, so nobody was around to hear him over the phone with the person he's about to called.

Praying that the person he was about to call would answer, his old partner, Dan Kessler. Speed dialing him on his iPhone, Warren just waited around in the cold praying that the man would answer. After the 5th ring, someone picked up with a 'Hello.'

"Dan. Dan is that you?"

A sigh came through the other end, "Yes, Warren, it's me."

"Look, Dan... I'm in trouble." Warren pleads to the man on the other side, desperately hoping that he'll listen, "Dan, I screwed up! I screwed up bad! I know that only you can help me, so please help me!"

"Where are you, Warren?"

"What's the plan, Dan?" Warren asked, "What are we gonna do? Tell me what we're gonna do! Tell me everything in detail."

"Where are you, Warren?" Dan repeated his question, "Where are you now?"

"Just tell me what to do, Dan, please!" Warren was nearly on his knees, begging for help from the one person that could help, "I'll do whatever you say, just tell me what to do, where to go, anything, please!"

"Warren, just tell me where you are, and I'll come." Dan told his friend, "I'll come as soon as I can."

The sheriff of Sharpwood looked around, thinking that he heard a noise before he spoke again, "Let me... Let me just come to you myself, okay? I think I have enough gas to make it to your house. Look, it's not safe here. I have to go to your house, okay? I can't stay here any longer! Look, I'm leaving now, I'll be... Look, if they catch me, I'll tell them that you don't know anything! I promise, I-"

"WARREN!" Dan shouted over the phone, "Calm down!"

After reeling from that, the officer took a deep breath and another before he replied, "Okay. I'm calm. What now?"

"Warren, don't go anywhere! You need to turn yourself in. That's the only way I can help you, alright?"

Warren was rendered silent from that sentence as the very last hope he had been holding onto shattered. "What?" He whimpered, his voice sounding so close yet so far away.

"You need to turn yourself in, Warren." Dan repeated his statement, "But I give you my word that-"

"No, no, no, Dan! Not you, Dan, just not you!" Warren interrupted him loudly as he began to break down, his voice breaking and sounding like he was about to burst into tears, "Why are you doing this, Dan?! You know me! YOU KNOW ME! You know who I am!" Warren was at his breaking point with his voice matching the shattered dreams that were streaming from his heart, practically screaming and crying into his phone, "They don't know but you know! Have you forgotten me, Dan? Remember who I am, Dan! It's me! IT'S ME!"

Dan seemed undeterred by his speech, "Warren, I promise you, I promise you as a friend, that as soon as you-" Warren ended the call then and there on him without another word able to be issued from his friend.

That was it. That was his last hope to get out of this. And now there's nothing he can do.

Warren, unable to take the pressure anymore, let loud a bloodcurdling howl. He screamed harder and harder, to where it was a miracle that his vocal cords didn't snap from the decibels that he was issuing from his throat. He fell against the side of his truck, still screaming his lungs out before he frantically opened his truck, grabbing the bottle of scotch, practically ripping the cap off, and downing almost half of it down his throat.

The liquid burned down his throat before he slowly felt the effects, calming him down to an extent as he was still hyperventilating. He stayed there at the side of his truck, panting hysterically and chugging down scotch as he desperately tried to pull himself together enough to think of a plan to survive. Warren grabbed the side of his truck and pulled himself up, ready to just go back and face the music, only for him to pause as he saw something. All around him were hundreds of people, clad in black robes with hoods that covered their faces. They held knives, guns, scythes, and axes, Slaaneshi symbols marking all over their bodies.

They were getting closer, the sounds of footsteps ringing out on the snow and stone, and the white haze of breath practically forming clouds around them.

Warren backed up, pulling out his revolver at the horde of cultists, who weren't deterred by it. Suddenly, a laugh was heard as Warren swiveled around, seeing Jane in her costume and golden mask with her saber ready to strike.

"You know, it really is too bad. I did like playing with you." She sounded petulantly disappointed, like a child that didn't want to give up a toy that they liked. That made it all the more unnerving considering it came from a grown woman. The sheriff just kept his revolver on her, backing away from them but turned around to see the other cultists were still getting closer. He can't find a way out. This is it.

Suddenly, a flash of gold seemed to light up the sky. Warren saw a figure of gold flaring towards them as Jane and the horde of cultists flee in terror of this golden god. "What the-?!" Was all he could get out before everything went white.

?

Warren's eyes slowly opened before he found that he was laying on the ground. Groaning, he slowly pushed himself off the floor, stood up and shook his head, the memory of the Church's attack still in his head. Rubbing his eyes, thinking that he got hit in his Warren looks around only to nearly go catatonic from shock.

He was the hotel he used to work at before the Bombing of Detroit.

The sheriff looked around the halls with a stupefied expression, sprinting around the floor and taking in every detail of the place, jogging to the windows and looking down at the still intact and busy streets of Detroit. It was rending his bones to jelly as he watched the city where he used to live in, ignore as the rest of the world for the future to come. People going down the streets, calling friends or business partners, driving to work, a place to eat, or home. All those people lost forever in the flames of that blast.

"Holy shit..." Warren could only breath out at what he was seeing.

"Amazing, isn't it?" A familiar voice rang out from behind him. Warren swiveled around, seeing E behind him, dressed in the same attire as when he first met him three months before they had met at that bar, and he got roped into all of this nonsense.

"Okay, E, you have some explaining to do." Warren demanded from the Emperor as they walked down the hall, "What the hell just happened? How are we back here at the hotel? How

"Well, displacement of the Warp can cause us to travel through time." E explains before Warren cuts him off in incredulousness.

"TIME TRAVEL?! WHAT?! HOW DOES THAT WORK?!" Warren shouted to The Emperor who put his hands up in a placating manner...

"Please, calm down." He says as he tries to placate the Sheriff.

"NO! Now, we're-" Warren was about to say before his eyes bulged as he cut himself off in realization, "Wait. Holy shit, this was when it happened. That means..."

He turned down the hallway towards the elevator, where his jaw dropped. In the open elevator, was his past self, wearing that same bellhop uniform he wore those 2 months ago. His jaw also dropped as he just stares at his future self. The two just stared for what felt like an indescribable amount of time before the current Warren broke the silence.

"Oh, no..." He says in a horrified tone, realizing where and when they are before grabbing the Emperor's arm yelling, "COME ON!"

Warren dragged E away from the elevator and ran down the hall they were done before it was enveloped in light.

December 25

Warren's cabin

12:30AM

Just then the two were back in his cabin, as if nothing happened. Warren looked around his cabin, shocked beyond belief before he suddenly gained a dazed expression, silently grabbed a bottle of scotch from his refrigerator, opened it, and then downed half of it in one go.

"Yep." E said, patting his employee on the back in comfort before he sat down on a chair, "Warp travel is a fickle bitch."

"I don't know what to do. I don't know what do to do." He repeated while running his fingers through his hair. "I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do." The current sheriff of Sharpwood just sat on a nearby chair with the Emperor getting up and sitting next to him almost fatherly.

"Warren, I do appreciate what you did and have done for my work." E told him in a comforting tone but didn't pull any punches, "But I'm too busy dealing with this, so it has to be you," He looked into Warren's distressed eyes, "There are three ways out of this Warren, and the only one that doesn't end with you imprisoned or dead is with me."

Warren had a series of conflicting expressions before just blustering as he felt back against his couch, "Oh, fuck me running."

"Fuck me running, indeed." E replied as he grabbed the bottle of scotch and drank some in celebration for it was Christmas Day. Or as those in the Imperium call it, Sanguinala.

Sharpwood Police Department

11:00PM

Back at the police station, Warren went up to Moreno after he got done with work for today. When he came in, the cops immediately noticed the black eye, but he waved them off, saying that he just had too much to drink and fell down while trying to get to his truck. They seemed to buy it but after he finished his work for the day, he went to Moreno and asked him to call Henderson.

"Is it on?" Warren asked Moreno who had just finished setting up the monitor to the smuggler's base. Apparently, Moreno insisted on a Skype call to talk to the colonel as, according to him, things were going on that he didn't like.

The latter replied, as he just typed in the call for the colonel, "Yeah, it should be."

After a few minutes, the feed came up showing Henderson on the monitor along with several of his henchmen in the frame alongside him. "Warren! Sean!" Henderson said over the line, "What's up?"

Warren sat down while looking at the monitor, "Well, this is a little bit of a tall order, but I need you and your henchmen to help me take over the city.

Henderson seemed only a bit bemused at that, "Okay, but why?"

"Well, this is gonna sound fucking absurd-" Warren was cut off by Henderson.

"Buddy, we live in a world with superheroes, talking animals, aliens, magic, and all kinds of Sci-Fi shit that would make Einstein go crazy. I'm pretty numb to absurdity at this point." He lit a cigarette as he talked, with many henchmen nodding in agreement.

Moreno shrugged, "He's got a point."

"Just listen!" Warren snapped, with Moreno putting his hands up, "You know the rift? The thing that appeared in the sky in September? Well, the thing is that... It's a gateway to hell." He finished uncertainly.

Moreno's jaw dropped, Henderson dropped his cigarette, and the henchmen onscreen only looked surprised.

"I know but the problem is that the Gods of Chaos have infested the town. It's the reason for all the disappearances and odd sightings." Warren explained. "The Neckties were corrupted by them, and the Church of Bovos has hundreds of followers that gonna attack the town. It's gonna be anarchy and chaos! The world is gonna be damaged irreparably!"

The gang was silent for a few moments before Henderson broke it.

"You're telling us to help you take over a town so we can help you slay a demon worshipping cult?" He summarized.

Warren nodded, "Kind of. I'm gonna give back up and-"

"Warren, Warren, Warren." Henderson interrupted with a serious expression which then morphed into a giddy smile, "I have been waiting for someone to tell me that ever since I was in boot camp!" He started laughing ecstatically, turning to his henchmen, "COME ON, BOYS! WE'RE FIGHTING SOME DAEMONS!"

The henchmen around him start whooping as the feed is cut off. Warren just stares at the monitor blankly, "Well, that went better than I thought." Moreno nodded, equally bemused by the eagerness displayed by the colonel and his henchmen.

Niflheim

11:30PM

Warren just sat at the bar, looking miserable as he contemplated on what he was about to do. The bartender comes by and asks him, "So, what'll it be, sheriff?"

"Um, scotch, single malt, speyside, no ice." Warren mutters slowly as he sets his head back onto the bar.

The bartender grunted, as he picked up a bronze-colored bottle and pulled the cork off, "A man of taste." He then filled a glass half full with the intoxicating liquid, "There you go."

Warren interjected, putting a hand up before motioning for more, "Whoa, whoa there, cowboy. Keep it coming."

The bartender filled the glass full, before Warren interjected again, "Oh, leave the bottle."

"Yeah." He replies, setting the bottle next to him and sliding the glass to his miserable looking customer, before commenting on his appearance and face, "Looking a bit down. What's the matter?"

Warren sighed, shaking his head, "You wouldn't believe it. Anyway, I don't wanna talk about it. I'm just gonna drink this." He finishes at that and picks up the glass, chugging down the liquid before refilling it and chugging it down again. He rinsed and repeated this process until the bottle was empty.

The sheriff looked at the bottle sadly and got up to leave the building after he paid his tab for the bartender. Warren just stumbled, grumbled, and walked until he got to his truck and then he just sat in the driver's seat, unmoving for what felt like hours.

He then entered a group chat with almost all of the officers on his phone before he sent them all that link with the cognitohazard.

The reaction was small at first, just a slight discomfort in his gut, then he could feel his breathing becoming labored. His eyes watered, tears falling down his face, he scrunched his face and put it in his hands, letting himself sob the pressure away.

And for the first time in 6 years, Warren Kallinger began to cry.

December 27th

The Church of Bovos monastery

10:30PM

Jane awoke after yet another day and night of debauchery, donning a black bathrobe as the gashes in her flesh and the missing organs regrew and resealed into her form as if they had never defiled her. Yesterday, Warren, the cops, Henderson, and the smugglers had suddenly stormed the city hall of Sharpwood and shot up the mayor.

After that, they declared martial law and had declared that anybody with experience in guns or manufacturing would be assisting them in helping to defend and fortify the town against the church. Now, they were erecting several massive barricades around the town, with the smugglers now having twice as many armed forces to defend their shipment lines and people all over have been slaving away to get everything ready.

Meaning, the Church had to step up their game if they wanted to plunder the town.

They began when clad themselves in leather suits, animal hides, necklaces of teeth, and silver skull-like masks with antlers. Jane meanwhile was dressed in a rather skimpy outfit made of burgundy cloth, the top consisting of a swimsuit-like top and the lower part being of a loincloth, with the added crown composed of horns and antlers, runic symbols were painted on her skin in red, and her eyes seemed to be more radiant than before.

She stood in the middle of the room with the others preparing their ritual. Black candles made from the flesh of their dead, powder made from the bones of wolves, and the ritual created by the founder of the Church before he died via self-mutilation.

"O malefic one." Jane began the ritual and chanted as the cultists lit the candles and drew the circle with a white powder, "Your humble servants make you these offerings. The bones of wolves ground into powder. Fat from the flesh of the decadent rendered into candles. The rune that is your name unspeakable by our unworthy tongues. O malefic one, we beseech thee. Grant us the power to destroy our enemies!"

"Especially Brad Turner. Who has given me my last swirly if I have anything to say about it!" A rotund dark-skinned teenaged cultist muttered out, unintentionally interrupting Jane. The other cultists just stare at the teenager flatly who just put his hands up sheepishly, "I'm just saying! It's humiliating!"

Jane just rolled her eyes and continued the ritual, "We beseech thee. Grant us the power to destroy our enemies! Lord Bovos! Grant us your blessing!"

The circle alit in pink, the gathered stare in awed reverence as Jane began laughing manically as the room was consumed with the light.

December 27

Sharpwood Police Department

5:00PM

The cops stack ammo crate after ammo crate in the offices while the smugglers assemble or load all kinds of guns as Warren and Henderson walk through the station, checking the progress of all their machinations. A map of Sharpwood was erected on the table while lots of cops and civilians were being trained in shooting ranges for whenever the Church attacks the town.

After 30 minutes of stocking up ammo, supplies, and rations for the raid on the town, Warren called everyone to the meeting room for a meeting on what they are going to do. It was a large room with the projector at the back and having several chairs for the cops and the smugglers to sit in as they all pooled into the room and took their seats while other remained standing, beginning the meeting.

Warren pressed his thumb against the small remote causing the projector to turn on, showing the image of several people running into the forest. The elephant in the room being the fact that several of them had deformities or mutations that randomly varied.

"Everyone, thank you for coming." Warren greeted them, "Because we're in a bit of a hurry, I'm just gonna get to the point: the several disappearance reports that we have been getting for the last 3 months are all connected to the Church of Bovos. They have been forcibly mutating and indoctrinating several hundred civilians into their coven, so they can destroy the town as a sacrifice for their idol of worship."

He then hit the button again, switching to an image of the black anthropomorphic cervine entity with wispy white hair, just like the one on Sheriff Wells' tapestry.

"Their idol of worship is Bovos." Warren continued, "Possibly a Daemon Prince for the Chaos God, also known as the Prince of Pleasure. Cultists that worship Slaanesh devote themselves to absolute pleasure, but to say they are unethical hedonists is like saying that we need air to breath. They will go to any lengths for pleasure and amusement. And I do mean. ANY. LENGTHS. If they aren't Slaaneshi, and just a daemon of Chaos Undivided, then that's good news."

Now that he was pretty sure that everyone was well and intimidated, he got to the point immediately.

"I want everyone remember that when the attack happens and make this your goddamn mantra: Make. Every. Bullet. Count!" Warren punctuated and emphasized by slamming his fist on the wall for dramatic effect, "If things get to close, they will eat your faces! They will bath in your blood! They will fuck you until you die!" The females all gasped in horror while the males looked unsettled, before Warren put the cherry on top, "And none of that was a hyperbole."

Now, that seems that like it terrified everyone in the room, and Warren may have taken too much pleasure in that.

"I want everyone to patrol the walls and take watch every three hours." The sheriff spoke in a very commanding voice, "If there is even a hint of the Church coming, I want everyone on it like their mothers were getting raped! Dismissed!"

Everyone left the room, leaving Warren alone to be by his lonesome before he presses the button again. It changed to a picture that was one of Jane, standing in the crowd unseen almost everyone else. The picture was taken by a photographer that was randomly taking pictures of the crowd at City Hall when Warren and Henderson declared martial law on the town yesterday.

Warren growled out as he glared at the picture in utter loathing, "Alright, Jane: Let's play this game."

December 29

Warren's shack

10:00AM

Ever since they declared martial law, Henderson had Warren's shack refurbished, giving it running water which saved him from having to go to the outhouse in case he had taken a shit, and also having several guards with them in case that anybody tries anything funny.

"We have urgent news!" Kent Brockman reported from Channel 6 news with a shocked look on his face, "The town of Sharpwood has been taken over by a smuggling gang turned militia now known as the Ghosts of the Emperor. They have been putting the town under their rule, fortifying it with several barricades and patrols that circle the entire town. And in a more shocking turn of Warren Kallinger has been confirmed to be alive and in the small town and appears to be one of the leaders of the Ghosts. Although the accusations of the bombing of Detroit still stand, many have begun doubting that the man was responsible for the bombing."

A dark-haired woman was seen on camera as she said, "Are you serious? An ex-cop who personally paid for the hospital bills is responsible for the deaths of over 68,000 people?" She then scoffs, "Yeah, right."

A middle-aged man began yelling at the camera, "It doesn't make sense! I get that there are supervillains, but a single ex-cop? Come on!"

"And we have confirmed background on Warren Kallinger. Be fore warned, the following content is not for the faint of heart." Kent Brockman warns the audience of what he was about to say, inhaling and exhaling before he started the story, "Warren Kallinger was born Lazar Krux to Slavic parents in Belgrade, Serbia on December 19th, 1993, who gave him up for adoption due to their gambling addiction. There he was adopted by Austrian immigrants, Robert and Karen Marquis when he was 2 and renamed him Warren after which they moved to Detroit in 1995."

"However, Warren's adoptive parents were horrifically abusive; he was often beaten over the most minor of things, locked in closets, starved, branded with irons, whipped with belts, forced to harm himself with a rusted knife or kneel on jagged rocks, or even consume excrement. At the age of 6, the abuse he suffered was so severe that he had developed a hernia that required surgery. When he returned, his parents taunted him, claiming that they bribed the doctor to render him impotent. When the boy was 10, his adopted mother cracked a hammer over his head after he simply asked to go outside and as punishment, she forced him to sleep in the living room."

"Eventually, his adopted mother died when she had a botched surgery to remove an esophageal tumor that developed due to chronic tobacco abuse and his father died when he was seventeen from liver failure due to chronic alcohol abuse. However, Warren was adopted by the Kallinger family at age 13 after his father was deemed unfit to raise his son by social services agents that were called after a concerned neighbor who witnessed Robert assaulting his adopted son in the street. Warren described as always quiet and sycophantic, never protesting to new rules in the house but barely able to graduate high school due to lack of concern for his future."

Warren just stared at the TV as he recalled all the memories of abuse at those two's hands, leaning back into his chair while having a blank expression.

"Kallinger became an officer in the Detroit Police Department at age 19 and became highly decorated in his nine-year service to the city of Detroit. However, as you know, during a stressful night on September 1st, Kallinger imbibed too much, and he had run over a young couple with his police car. Due to pressure by the public and Congresswoman Rashida Tlaib, who has unfortunately succumbed to her injuries from the bombing just last week, Chief Dalton Halley forced his resignation just one week later."

The Sheriff was about to turn off the tv when suddenly it was as if the anchorman was asking

"Mr. Kallinger, if you are watching or listening to this: I implore you to do the right thing. If you want this to stop, then do the right thing and turn yourself in

His phone then pinged, showing a text that read: "I know you're watching that segment with Kent Brockman. I know you want to talk. And you can. The wave is almost here. There's nothing to keep secret anymore, Warren. -E." Besides it was a link that he recognized.

With that and new resolve, the sheriff of Sharpwood dials the network from his phone.

"Hello?"

"Hello." Warren said stoically, "My name is Warren Kallinger."

The reaction from the anchorman was perplexing; His eyes merely widened and set down before putting it on speaker. Warren knew what to do.

"Hello. My name is Warren Kallinger."

Gasps were heard from the audience and the anchormen and women as several of the people on screen.

"I'm watching your show right now. And I decided that I couldn't keep this a secret anymore." Warren said, resolve clear in his voice, "This is something that the public needs to hear."

The anchormen and women looked at each other in confusion before Kent Brockman spoke up, "Very well, Mr. Kallinger. What do you have to say?" Everyone in the same room with him and even the audience whether in the studio or at home looked at Kent incredulously but Warren didn't allow for any room for argument as he ran the program. After a moment, the screens in the studio showed a hard-looking man with long and scruffy bleached hair and a full beard, red eyes, and a scar running down his left eye.

Huh. He barely recognized himself even though he looked himself in the mirror.

"What I'm about to say and show has no filters, no bullshit, no nothing." Warren confirmed to the audience, the feed showing his face on the studio as he talked, "I can only say this: Everything I am about to say is completely true."

That most certainly

"It all started when I got to Sharpwood. I had rented a cabin in the outskirts of the town to avoid detection, but after I joined Henderson and his cronies," Warren trailed off for dramatic effect, "Things got weird. Really fucking weird."

"Oh?" Brockman inquired, folding his hands and resting his head on them while the rest of the audience seemed interested.

"I always got this feeling that things weren't right. On the 28th of November, I took two days off to look around the town." Warren began in a faked somewhat distressed tone, "Due to me being practically the sheriff's right hand, I got a call from the coroner and the mortician, who said that they'd like me to look at something that concerned them. But when I got there, the coroner, the mortician, their assistants, and the intern showed me the body of an obese man that had passed away a day ago. His innards were like a... soup or something. I don't know how to describe it."

"Soup?" One of the audience members asked incredulously.

"Yeah, soup." Warren nodded, "They then showed me another body with abnormalities. It was the body of a teenage girl that had cat-like eyes and horns growing out of her brow. They dissected her and it was revealed that she had a second ribcage. They continued to show me more corpses that had anomalous features before I told them to cremate all of them and to call me back if any more were brought in, and to not call the FBI, CIA, or even the GDF. This had to be kept as quiet as possible."

"So, you covered it up." The anchorman summarized while some of the others looked on at him in disapproval.

"Well, what could I say to their families? If I told them to remove all the deformities, people would start asking questions. Questions that I couldn't answer." Warren explained to everyone that was watching, "But as time went by, we kept getting reports of disappearances from all over the town. At first, not knowing what to do, we just but the disappearances on hold until we got a chance to breath. But then, we received photos from various people around town that showed people with mutations or anomalous features running into the forests. These reports and photos increased in intensity as the month went by, but we came up with nothing despite our best efforts."

Warren then inhaled and exhaled as he closed his eyes before opening them, "Then we received word on a gang of drugdealers called the Neckties were venerable at an exact point in time. When we arrived though, the place seemed abandoned but there was no sign of anybody leaving. After searching the place, we went in and..."

He paused, faking a traumatized expression before he inhaled and exhaled.

"The drugdealers had been mutilated beyond all recognition. Some had their eyelids and lips cut out, another had his hands replaced by metal claws, and one of them had his chest cavity torn open and..." He just trailed off, faking seeming too sick to continue. "After that, something snapped in everyone, and we just opened fire before any of them could react. Eventually, we decided to burn the whole place down and never look back."

Nobody said anything but their horrified reactions said all that needed to be said.

"But complications came when a cult known as the Church of Bovos came to light." Warren continued, after pausing for dramatic effect, "They're a cult that does shit that Joker would blanch at. Something had to be done with them around. So, Henderson and I decided to take over the city and took it's protection into our own hands."

"But that's not all I have to show you." Warren said as he walked through his cabin to his secret closet, the lights in the cabin were off giving the whole place a sinister vibe as he got closer to it, slowly unlocking it and opening it, showing a room that seemed drenched in black. "One second." He says as he pulled the light switch on, revealing all the closet in all its glory.

"My god." One of the audience members went when they all of the newspapers and photos, and especially the jar that held the intestines.

"But watch this." Warren then gently tapped the glass and the intestines turned around, revealing its maw of fangs. He heard several people yelping in surprise or screaming in terror. He then turned his phone to his face, "I know. It's fucked up. But my point stands: there is shit going on that you've never seen. Shit that you've never imagined. Something is coming. Something that will tear this world down and warp it into hell. That's-"

Suddenly, a knock was heard from behind him. Warren turned around as another knock came from the door. Raising an eyebrow, he walked to the door and opened it, revealing that it's just one of his guards.

"Sir, the colonel wants you at the station. It's the Church." The guard told him gravely. Warren was blank faced for a minute before regaining his composure.

"G-give me a minute." He waved off the guard who walked away to give his boss space, before he continued where he left off, "Look, I gotta go. So, to wrap things up, if you see anything that has this symbol on it," He points to a paper that had the Star of Chaos on it, "Destroy it! No matter what it's on, no matter who it's on, destroy it and make sure it stays destroyed!"

He ends the call and turns off the TV before going outside to meet with Henderson.

December 31

The outskirts of Sharpwood

10:00PM

It was the day. Every armed man and woman were at the walkways of the barricades, guns ready to slay them by the hundreds. One of their scouts reported that the Church had destroyed a nearby town for weapons in their raid on the town and it's believed that they would be arriving tonight. As such, they had everyone that could use a gun on the defending force of the town. Tankers filled with gasoline were placed near the inter walls of the town in case of they got overwhelmed by the Church of Bovos. They had the civilians taken to the center of the town but those that could fight were given blades, axes, or even spears for in case that they breached the walls.

In a completely convenient turn, a snowstorm happened to come by, making the pathways that the horde was coming through shrouded in white. But this actually gave them an advantage themselves, for the storm makes it so that the horde can't see where the Ghosts were firing from.

But as 10:00PM rolled by, the Church came to them in full force. But they were not a church anymore, more of a horde of insanity.

They came by the hundreds, clad in leather suit, hides, bones, with deer skulls as helms. The horde of them only climbed to 500, but to the defenders, it seemed like they were endless under the cloud-filled night. Farther away, there was Jane; clad in a cloak composed of animal and human hides with her face concealed except for two radiant pink eyes.

Warren and the rest of the cops came to the inner and outer walls, completing the rest of the Ghosts. They were called that due to them being from a town that nobody knew about and that they were defying the Church by calling themselves 'ghosts of the Emperor.' Each of the Ghosts had their gear painted black and white while wearing ski masks, hockey masks, gas masks, motorcycle helmets, or bananas that had skulls either printed or painted on them. Their gear was flak jackets, trench coats, leather jackets, riot suits, combat boots, and all kinds of mismatched gear that was cobbled together in a rush. Their weapons being assault rifles, shotguns, sub-machine guns, light machine guns, and Winchester repeaters, all loaded and supplied with at least a month's worth of ammo.

Just on the stroke of the town's clock, the horde advanced on them from the unseen signal of their leader. To them, only white and flare of headlights were seen in the distance, when suddenly...

"Shoot em up, boys!" They heard the sheriff yell in fury.

A moment later, trigger fingers tightened, and bullets flew out by the hundreds. The front lines of the horde were slaughtered within a femtosecond, but the second lines used the bodies as cover while the rest were continuing to be slaughtered like cattle. Bodies kept falling but even as they reached to absurd numbers, they still kept coming. Wounds sprayed fountains of intoxicant riddled blood, many of the hordes fell like sacks of wet meat, snow coating the bodies in a thin blanket of white specks, and even more coming through from the damned infested path.

The Ghosts lost a few of their own in the first minutes from arrows or bullets from the horde but still they had enough ammo to last. Hell, Warren could swear he heard Charlie laughing in bliss as he gunned down several of the cultists with an AK-47. But still, it seemed like they had cut down half of the horde, yet they were still coming without change in tactics or strategy. More concerningly was the fact that the horde seemed to have more than 500 cultists that he was led to believe.

But what was even more concerning was the fact that the horde was slowly beginning to gain ground.

"Outer wall! Fall back to the inner walls and light em up!" Warren yelled to the men on the outer wall, who began a fighting retreat back to the inner walls. Several managed to take down as many as they could before they reached the inner walls but more than a few went down holding back the horde with their guns and blades alike. Just as the remaining Ghosts vaulted over to the inner walls and the walkways, one of them from the inner walls produced a Molotov cocktail and lit it up with a lighter before throwing it at a bunch of gas barrels that were hidden at the inner part of the outer walls.

The bottle shattered as the flammable Vodka met with the flaming tissue, igniting instantly around the gas barrels. All of the Ghost immediately ducked for cover as the flames ignited the gas barrels, the gasoline coated wood of the inner walls, and kerosene lathered ground. It all blazed in hellish lashing with a deafening boom following behind, screams of rapturous agony bellowed from those caught in the flames, spreading to the others that were running from their damned path.

After 20 minutes of intense heat and rapturous screams, the Ghosts all slowly got up from behind the cover of the walls and saw the aftermath as the blaze began to die down. The scene was horrific; the horde was utterly devastated, the cultists burned to sunders with only a few still moving or even breathing, the uncountable number of pine trees surrounding the town still ablaze from the explosion, creating a pyre that alit the dark of the night. A smell of utter sweetness permeated the air instead of burning flesh, along with sounds of pleasurable moaning instead of screams of agony, and a stilling quiet settling on their souls as if something from beyond was reaching out and pushing down on them.

"Everyone to me!" Henderson yelled as he and a squad of the ghost vaulted over the walls and advanced on the survivors of the horde, with another squad lead by Warren closely following. The first 12 were gunned down with ease, while those that could still crawl were then riddled with bullets until they fell dead further staining the ground with their intoxicant riddled blood.

One of them grabbed Charlie by the foot, only for him to shoot them point blank in the head as he was struggling to retch out his leg. Burch III let out a yell as he thrust a bayonetted M1 into the chest of an old female cultist who's face and left arm had burnt off in the explosion before ripping it out and thrusting it into her head, killing her instantly. Another surviving Church member that used his fellow cultists as human shields jumped out with a knife drawn to skewer the nearest person... only to be shot in the throat by Charlie, he clutches his throat for a second before Charlie then shot him in the face six times. A female cultist, who's face had remained untouched by the flames, grinned as she got up to skewer the others, only for a bullet curtsy of Henderson to pierce her eye and brain, killing her instantly.

And another one that had all of his skin burned off came screaming towards them, blood, oil, and liquid flying from his skin, only to be met by a bullet that pierced his head curtesy of Warren. He stumbled back, blood and cranial matter spewing out before he fell dead. The sheriff hmphed as he twirled it like a cowboy and blew the smoke off the barrel of his revolver.

The Ghosts finished off the rest of the surviving Church members, but as they did so, some of them couldn't chase the feeling that something wasn't right.

"Say: is it me or was that too easy?" Charlie asked the others, resting his AK-47 on his shoulder while a pondering expression came on his face, "Cause, I don't know, but that seemed like that ended too quickly for me."

Some of the others look at each other before Victor said, "Come on, what-"

"No, he's right." Warren cut him off, slowly taking his sunglasses off, "They never go down that easily, especially not if we have killed so many of them." He then narrowed his eyes as he noticed something coming from the path, "Something's wrong."

Suddenly, a figure was seen walking towards them details becoming clearer as it grew closer. The figure was clad in a tattered grey cloak with black fur in crack-like patterns, the hood shrouding the face in shadow with the radiant purple eyes that left fading trails in the air. They raised their guns as it drew closer, only to gain shocked expression as a flush of wind to peel the hood away, revealing their face.

"Lilly?" Warren asked no one in particular as they stared at the figure revealed to be the former sheriff of Sharpwood.

"Oh, she does not look too fucking good." Charlie said as they all backed away from her instinctively even though she was farther away. It was as if she was irradiating this wrongness to her, her cheeks were cut open with needle-like teeth stitching them together, her eyes blank with leathery cataracts, and her voice seemingly choked and raspy as she attempted to speak.

She choked, blood spilling out of her mouth in chunks before she gurgled out, "They promised me... so much..." The former sheriff gurgled more as more blood came upchucking out of her throat, clutching her stomach as she bent forwards in pain. Lilly then let out a bloodcurdling scream. A scream so loud that it seemed to tear up her vocal cords, her eyes bleed like geysers, her skin rippled and bulged as more blood spewed out of her mouth as her intestines spilled out of her gut, ripped to shreds as it pools on the ground.

"E-Everyone, get back to the barricades!" Warren abruptly yelled out, knowing what's about to happen next. The others didn't need much convincing as they were all running back to the barricades just as Warren did, scared as hell on what was happening.

Suddenly, Lilly's body bloated, tore apart, folded, expanded, contracted, and distorted, collapsing under the weight of the corrupting power that was fed to her. Flesh and bone were torn apart and remade, her head split four ways to reveal a maw of needle-like fangs as the rest of her features liquescently disappeared, long black tendrils burst from her back, and her flesh blackened into an ever-shifting and pulsing hide.

Lilly now resembled a massive demonic Lilliam with dark blue sheening hide and numerous pulsing tendrils with maws of pearling with fangs. The mouth was the most horrific part that resembled a water lily with uncountable fangs, it parted five ways while five prehensile tongues slithered out. The thing let out a piercing shriek that seemed to shake the forest around Sharpwood as its head reared toward the town, ready to feast on them like the pray that they were staring at the thing in horror.

"W-What the fuck is that?!" One of the former cops yelled as they saw this thing that used to be Lilly slithering, bulging, lashing, and thrashing towards them as it shrieks and squeals towards them.

"A Chaos Spawn." Warren breathed in horror. E had shown him images of them in his head but seeing it in person was terrifying beyond measure.

The Spawn shrieked in mewing agony as it's five tongues lashed out at the inner walls. The Ghosts in the crossfire leap out of the way as the spears of flesh pierced the wooden walls and the metal walkways alike before retracting and those that were still standing on the walkways opened fire on it. Bullets easily pierced its flesh but each time there was a wound, its flesh seemed to reform and closed like liquid. It kept coming, screeching and wailing as it did, a simple lash of its tentacles splitting an abandoned truck in half and devouring the remnants.

Bullet after bullet pierced its flesh but nothing, they did seem to hurt it, barely slowing it down. Henderson grabbed a Molotov cocktail from one of the Ghosts and lit it up before throwing it at the Spawn, igniting its side and spreading to the 'chest' of the thing. It squealed in agony while flailing its tentacles and tendrils as the fire burned through its flesh, yet it still didn't go down.

"Um, colonel? I think you just made it mad!" One of the former smugglers yelled as they continued to fire upon the thing, but with the way that things were going, they might as well be throwing pebbles at the Spawn.

"Gah! We aren't doing anything to this bitch!" Henderson roared in anger, before he got a very stupid idea and decided to do something very stupid, "All of you get to city hall! I'll deal with her!"

The Ghost looked at him like he was insane but didn't protest as they scrambled in a fighting retreat down the stairs of the walkways and into city hall, with Warren leading them after giving the colonel a salute. None of them saw the numerous packs of C4 that lined the inner parts of the inner wall. Henderson messed with some buttons and switches before getting the detonator in his hand and looked at the thing beyond the walls.

Colonel Henderson breathed out, seeing the Spawn getting closer, tendrils flailing around and ready to strike. The colonel steeled his nerves before taking a deep and long breath, raising the detonator high in the air and closing his eyes.

"Colonel, wait!" A voice rang out, grasping his fist to stop him from detonating the C4. Opening his eyes, he saw that it was Moreno with a grim but determined expression on his face, "Let me do it."

The colonel looked shocked at his usually peppy and sycophantic henchman standing up for himself, "Sean, what-"

"Just go!" Moreno urged Henderson to go while he still could. The colonel, still shocked but responsive, nodded and skedaddled to the stairs and ran down to city hall after he gave Sean a salute. The henchman just kept his calm as much as he could as he stared down at the Spawn, thinking about what caused him to come here in the first place.

Sean never did much with his life: he graduated from highschool, got his associate degree, and moved out of Sharpwood and to New York. Then things went downhill when he was laid off due to the company, he was working for going bankrupt, forcing him to move back to Sharpwood where he had a hard time finding a job until he met Colonel Henderson. And yet, even with all the money he was getting from the job, Sean still felt dissatisfied with his life until he heard about the Bombing of Detroit and Warren Kallinger.

For some reason, he was enamored by the story of Kallinger and his experiences. So, when he heard that Kallinger was working with them, Sean was overjoyed. And that increasing admiration only grew as they took over the town and the invasion began. He remembered hearing the truth about Chaos and cheering on when Warren showed the world that same truth as well. But he wasn't fit to be a soldier, he had a spoon in his mouth since the day he was born, only able to do the work that the other's didn't want to do.

But here he was, about to sacrifice himself to kill some abomination for his idol... Ah, well. There were worse ways to go.

The Spawn was dangerously close now, its head looking down on him, fangs slicked with drool while its limbs were nearly crushing the walls from weight alone. It was then that Moreno knew what had to be done, steeling his nerves and staring down at the eyeless and lilly-like maw of the monster.

"Say hi to Gale." Moreno scowled at the thing that used to be Lilly, holding the detonator high in the air as if to taunt her about her imminent demise, "IN HELL!" He then pressed the trigger so hard it hurt, just as the Spawn's jaws were about to snap him in half.A flash of light enveloped the town, and a deafening boom shook the town as a pillar of flames and debris bellowed through the air as the Ghosts and civilians shielded themselves as a tsunami of heat crashed over them.

As the light died down, the people uncovered their eyes, seeing the walls had been replaced by a wall of fire that was now protecting them from whatever lied beyond the town.

Suddenly, the Spawn crawled out of the flames, shrieking in agony. It was covered in green blisters filled with fluid, half of its body was missing as boiling fluids spewed out of its wounds, and all of its tentacles and tendrils calcified from the blaze. Its blisters burst, causing green fluid to spill out as its flesh was trying to heal from the burns and fluid loss it is suffering from the blast, and it's only able to move by using its intact tongues to wrap around whatever objects they could and drag itself forward.

The Ghosts rose their rifles as it continued to drag itself towards them, not firing as it seemed to be on the verge of death.

It raised its head high and gave a bloodcurdling screech before it collapsed with a loud slam, sending more snow into the air while blood and bile pooled to the ground. Smoke was rising from its smoldering flesh and steam rising from the boiling fluid spewing from its uncauterized wounds. The Ghosts slowly lowered their guns as one of them walked towards it to make sure that it was dead. Burch III poked the dead Chaos Spawn in the head with his bayonetted rifle before reeling back in fear but not getting a reaction from it.

"Is it dead?!" One of the Ghost called to him, with all the Ghost minus Warren hiding behind all cover in case that the thing was still alive.

"It's dead!" Burch III called back to them as he walked to them, relieved that this thing is dead and gone. The others got up from their cover, some nearly passing out in relief that the thing is dead. Charlie scratched his head before saying, "Well, I guess that's it then."

Suddenly, much to the shock of everyone watching, the smoke and steam from the smoldering corpse twisted and formed a facsimile of Lilly, floating and reforming yet staying above the corpse of the Chaos Spawn that used to be her. The former cops all looked at the facsimile in shock before it looked at them and smiled sadly as it issued in Lilly's voice, a soft and sweet "Thank you" as it then unformed and flied away into the night.

The first to recover from the shock, Warren slowly took off his sunglasses in respect, "No problem, Lilly. No problem at all."

"Godspeed, Sean. Godspeed." Henderson pulled out his flask and poured one out for Moreno, as did the other former smugglers in respect for their fallen members. It was the same with the former cops of the small town.

Then, however, the walls of fire parted revealing a woman with radiant purple eyes walking towards them in a slow rhythmic strut. Trails of purple steamed from the eyes with her hair flowing in the wind, she appeared to be entirely unclothed and yet somehow unaffected by the snowstorm. Worse was that she didn't have the same feeling of wrongness as Lilly, in fact; this one seemed to irradiate an attire that was made to attract and not repel.

"Oh, are you fucking kidding?" Warren heard one of the Ghost moan in annoyance but he was more focused on the woman, realizing who the woman was.

Putting back on his sunglasses, he confirmed what he saw: it was Jane.

She was smiling like a devil glutting on sin, her eyes burning with dark desires as her sclera became black and her irises burning pink. Her hair seemed to be longer and seemed to be flowing through the wind, her skin seemingly irradiating heat and vice, but something felt off; like something had joined with her to achieve power beyond measure.

The Ghosts raised their guns at her, with the Sheriff yelling out, "Give it up, Jane! One command from either me or Henderson and you're dead!" Henderson snapped his fingers, and all of their soldiers all cocked their guns in demonstration.

Jane just seemed amused, cooing out, "Oh, Warren~ What you don't understand is... you're already dead." She snapped her fingers.

Suddenly, a blinding flash enveloped the town and the area around them exploded, sending most of them back while immolating the rest in a flaming death. The city hall of the town was reduced to ruins, white and pink flames rushed through the streets, tearing down houses and buildings with civilians used as fuel for the onslaught. The winds bellowed around the town as a pyre of pink and white lit the night in an unholy sacrifice to the dark gods beyond the skies, the screams of the dying rang through the air, bolts of Warp lightning speared through the sky in dazzling awe, and horrid wisps of smoke lashed out against the sky in spasmodic synchrony.

Warren blinked the white out of his eyes, glad he was wearing his sunglasses to block the flash. But as he got up, he saw that he had been thrown to the ground with several of the dead soldiers. The blast had pulverized the city hall while the white-pink flames were scouring the buildings and infrastructure, powerful pulses of energy flailing out into the air, dust and debris rising into the air, and pillars of bone and flesh rising from the ground. All dancing in a discordant play of agony and pleasure that seemed to sing with the screams of the dying.

Jane raised her arms in godly reverence while walking towards the Sheriff, who was still staring around the destroyed town in shock, "Look at it all. Drink it in. Behold the future of this world and of every world in the multiverse. First, Sharpwood, then the US, then the world, and THEN THE UNIVERSE! We will make all things slave under the Dark Gods, we will build pieces of art born from suffering, we will drown the world in oceans of hedonism, and we will tear everything down in sea of sanguine!"

"OVER MY DEAD BODY!" Henderson yelled at the she-devil who grinned as he raised an AK-47 that he grabbed at her in defiance, his face a mixture of rage and hate, one that any soldier could admire.

"Terms accepted." She the pointed raised her hand and out fired a bolt of Warp lightning at him. Henderson pumped six rounds into her before the bolt struck him in the chest, sending the colonel flying back and smashing into some debris with a massive gaping and smoldering hole in his chest, killing him instantly. A chunk of blood coughed out of his mouth, his body slumping against the wall of debris.

The corrupted woman hmphed, feeling the wounds inflicted by the bullets seal almost instantly before she turned to Warren, who had been knocked to the snow-covered ground from the force of the blast, somewhat dazed but regained his bearings when he saw her beginning to walk towards him.

Suddenly, tendrils of flesh shot up from the ground, wrapping themselves around Warren's arms and legs as he stood up, forcing him back down to the ground with a yelp. He struggled hard against the tendrils, pulling them taunt until they forced him back to the ground where Jane was now at his side.

"I wish you could feel what I am feeling." Jane breathed as she looked at her hand, the malefic power dancing across her palm and fingers, "It's like all of my blood has been replaced by liquid pleasure. Everything from the air on my skin to the snow on my feet brings nothing but ecstasy." The nude woman shuddered with pleasure, rubbing both of her upper arms with her hands before she knelt down and grasped the sides of his face, "If only you could understand, Warren. I'm not Jane, nor am I human, but I am both and more. So much more."

She let go of the sides of his face, walking backwards before she muttered out, "The woman I was is dead and gone. Now, there is only the thing that I am now. And that thing is the new Queen of this World."

Suddenly, her entire form was enveloped in an inferno of pink and purple flames. Warren was forced to cover his eyes as his sunglasses had fallen off from the blast, but the heat from the flames nearly seared his arm off. A shadowy and wispy silhouette was seen enlarging in the inferno, growing wings, horns, and other abnormal features while its narrow eyes were blazing white.

Just then, the flames disappeared, revealing the transformed woman; she was massive, almost 20 feet tall. Her skin was covered in a black carapace with soft ebony fur in the spaces between plates. Her face was unchanged yet still coated black, but two antler-like horns had grown from her brow and her eyes were now burning with pink flames. Sitting on her chest was a beautiful golden mask that seemed to be fused with her skin while massive and powerful wings sat on her back.

Warren stared at the thing that used to be the woman he used to love. This daemon spread their wings as purple flames burst from her palms while a lovely sounding laugh rang from her throat while scented oils transmuted from the melted snow rising up and swirling around her in a storm of sights and scents.

"I am Bovos, Spirit of Debauchery!" The abomination in front of him bellowed out in Jane's voice, one that was warm and inviting yet dark and sinister, "And this world belongs to me!

The sheriff was only able to stare on as he was overwhelmed by the light and smell knocked him out.

?

Warren blinked the whiteness out of his eyes as he found himself in front of a small hospital near the center of a small town. Then, feeling another presence, he turned to the right, only to gape in surprise.

It was himself; now 17 and wearing a black shirt under a red and black checkered flannel and brown leather jacket, grey pants and black boots. He had a hard yet resigned look on his face as he stared at the hospital, hands in the coat pockets. Both were in the middle of a snowstorm, but he felt no cold and maybe his other didn't either.

Warren tried to touch his other only for his hand to pass through his past self, like a ghost. He stared at his hand for a second before looking back at his other self for what felt like hours. After a few moments, the Warren from the past muttered to himself, "Come on, let's get this over with." The present and unseen was silent as he turned to the side, seeing a red car driving off in the distance.

He said without control, "I remember this."

The entrance was quiet but not as quiet as to be out of place for a hospital. The lady at the front desk was a old rotund woman with glasses and a business suit, she was typing something into her computer until she noticed Warren walking towards her desk.

"Can I help you?" The receptionist asked.

"Hi, I'm here to see a Robert Kallinger." Warren told her, his tone despondent and uncaringly. The receptionist looked down to her computer and typed in the name of his father. After a minute, the information came up and she looked up to the man.

"Third floor. Room 309." The receptionist answered the man in front of her.

"Thank you." Warren said bluntly, before leaving to the elevators with his present self following behind. A minute of taking the elevator and listening to the admittedly catch music, the two arrived at the third floor. It was rather busy, but they managed to navigate to Room 309, though the present Warren got there first due to being intangible and invisible despite being unable to rub it in when his past self arrived at the room.

"Hey," They turned to see an attractive female nurse coming out of the room, smiling at the past Warren, "Are you the son of Mr. Kallinger?"

"Yeah." He responded, looking into the room for a second before asking the nurse, "What's wrong with Dad?"

The nurse's smile fell, and she looked down remorseful, "He's suffering from severe liver failure. H-Has he been having any chronic problems with substance abuse? Alcohol, more specifically?"

"Since I can remember." Both Warrens replied, their tone deadpan and blunt.

The nurse flinched and then responding, "Then that's what caused it. We've been treating him, but given his age and poor health, I doubt he's going to make it. You may wanna say your goodbyes now."

Warren only breathed and said, "Can you leave me alone? I just wanna talk to him."

"Sure." The nurse left him alone as he entered the room, but the Warren of the present overheard her saying to the other nurses, "Poor guy. Seeing his father like that, knowing he can't help. No person should go through that."

The other nurses nod sadly, while the present Warren scoffed. If only they knew.

He followed his past self into the room and saw him standing over the bed where his father was. Robert looked horrible: His frame was ungodly thin to where his ribs and veins were visible, his hair and beard were grey while sores were all over his skin, and his eyes had an empty gloss in them.

Both Warrens just stared at the man in the hospital bed. True, they hated the man, but seeing him so lifeless and seemingly unable to walk or eat without assistance just made them uncomfortable.

The present Warren just remained standing while the past Warren sat down in a nearby chair at the bedside. His father seemed to notice him as his eyes turned to his son, but he said nothing and neither did Warren. For several moments, both were silent, suspensefully waiting who was gonna speak first until Warren broke it.

"I've been thinking of moving out to Megaville. Might be homeless for a few weeks even if I got a job, but you know, it's something."

His father didn't respond only breathing grumpily.

"Ever since you've been admitted, I've had to pawn all of Mom's jewelry." Warren continued, even though he wasn't expecting a response from Robert, "And maybe rob some gas stations and other peoples' houses. You know that girl down the street is a homosexual?"

"Huh." His father broke his silence, somewhat bewildered by that fact before asking, "You know your mother stole all that jewelry?"

"Yeah. That was the guy at the pawn shop said when I showed it to him. But I managed to convince him to take it." Warren said flippantly, "But I've been thinking about skipping state to try and start over. Y'know, try and get a job. But I don't know if I can."

His father nodded, revealing a secret about his wife, "Your mother was the same. She did whatever she wanted without concern for anyone else. It was like she could make me do whatever she wanted without even looking at me."

Both Warrens seemed surprised at the fact that they just learned, "Goddamn." Both said at the same time.

The parent and son were silent again before the latter asked again, "Well, this is probably the last time we'll see each other. I'd say good riddance, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't wish to talk to you one last time. So, Dad, please: what do you have to say? You're hear for who knows how much longer. So, please, if you have something to say, say it."

Robert looks down, ponderingly before inhaling and exhaling as he looked back to his son.

"You little pussy."

Both Warrens just stared blankly at Robert, expecting this answer from their father.

"That was what my old man called me." Their father looked down as he continued with a sad expression before either of them could do anything, causing both to stop and look at him in confusion.

"Kept saying it like it was my name. And I proved him right by killing all the wrong people in 'Nam." Robert continued before looking up at the past Warren, "Now, Warren, I ain't ever called you anything but your name, but you gotta decide; You gonna lay there and choke on your own blood? Or are you gonna stand up, spit it out, and go spill their's?"

Warren and Lee looked contemplative before Robert continued, "Remember that day? At the school, where you were in that fight with those boys that happened? You made me proud that day, Warren."

His son was understandably confused, "I was beat to a pulp."

"Yeah," Robert nodded before scooching closer to his son, "But you got back up and you stabbed that bastard in the gut."

The memory of Warren stabbing that douchebag in the gut rung again in Warren, whom subtlety shook his head.

"That showed me that you weren't a pussy no more; You were a man." Robert puts his hand on his son's chest.

Warren and his past self were silent, thinking about what he was saying.

"Remember this, Warren." Robert moves his hand to his son's heart, "When the world fights, you gotta fight back. When everything's gonna come crumbling down, this is what's gonna kept you and everyone else alive. It's what kept me alive in 'Nam and I think it's what's gonna keep you alive."

The feeling in the room changed. Warren couldn't describe what it changed into, but it changed none the less. The past Warren nodded and muttered a "Yeah" before standing up and slowly walking out of the room. As he got to the doorframe, the Warren from the past turned back to his father one last time.

He then gave a soft smile. The first he ever did in a long time, "See ya around, dad."

Robert gave a smirk in return, "See ya, son."

Past Warren gave a nod and left, leaving present Warren alone with his father. Looking down at his bedridden father, he sat down in the same chair that his past self did. The sheriff just cleared his throat and spoke to his father even though he knew he couldn't hear him.

"I don't know what to think whenever I think you, Dad." Warren spoke to his father, "I moved to a better family. Better than you or Karen. But my life went down the tubes when I was kicked off the force just as much as your's did when you were discharged from the army. I... suddenly understand what it's like to have everything you've ever earned ripped away by something that wasn't your fault. But even after all that, a part of me still think that you deserved what you got... but I don't think you deserved what caused you that pain to begin with."

Warren then took his father's hand into his.

"You've escaped one Hell, Dad. God help me, but I somehow hope you don't find another."

Robert seemed to hear his speech as he gave a small smile before closing his eyes. The heartrate monitors then began flatlining, nurses rushed in to try and help but Warren knew it was the end for his dad. He walked out of the room and met his past self in the hallway, who saw the nurses flooding the room.

He seemed to realize just as much at what was happening, as both of them silently left the floor. The elevator didn't play its music, and the front desk seemed both occupied and abandoned at the same time, but the two walked out of the hospital and into the cold of the outside.

The world then went black as the sheriff fell into the void and all his chains broke.****

Warren's eyes shot open as it felt like the chains of his mind had shattered to dust. With but a thought, the tendrils of flesh blasted off his arms and legs before crumbling to dust. The sheriff got to his feet just as the Daemon Prince noticed that he was standing there, still alive.

"HOW?! HOW?!" Jane/Bovos yelled in shocked disbelief, "YOU SHOULD BE DEAD!"

"No, you don't understand." Warren glared up at her and uttered out in a voice like no other, "I've been dead for 17 years. Today, is the day I live."

Suddenly, all the rocks and debris in Sharpwood shot off the ground and rocketed toward Jane/Bovos, hitting every part of their body in bloody impact. Soon, the sheer number of the rubble ramming into the abomination formed a massive orb of debris that was almost as large as three semi-trucks, before liquifying into a black opaque liquid and then solidifying, forming a massive sphere of sheening black material.

Then, cracks formed on the sphere, blazing out pink warp fire before it shattered revealing Bovos, who was quite peeved to say the least.

"Okay..." Bovos sneered at the Sheriff, "NOW I'M MAD."

The Daemon Prince formed two orbs of pink flames before launching them at Warren, who formed several gigantic tentacle-like constructs of concrete from the ground that intercepted them. The explosion destroyed the constructs before tendrils of metal burst from the ground and impaled the Daemon Prince's feet and legs with blood spilling. The monster yelped, not in pain but in surprise before they dragged her down to the ground.

Bovos growled in anger before they were slammed in the face by a club of concrete, nearly breaking her skull. Suddenly, tendrils of concrete and metal speared from the ruins at the Daemon Prince, but she destroyed them with a swipe of her hand before she saw that the debris from the black orbs flowed together, creating golems of black orbs.

The golems all charged at her; clubs raised to shatter her form, but the Daemon Prince summoned a torrent of Warp Lightning that destroyed them easily. But as Bovos managed to get to the air, a massive flail composed of rubble that had a gigantic saw attached to the end. It collided with Bovos' torso, cutting deep into her flesh as bright pink blood and guts spewed from the wound.

Bovos roared in joyful agony before the wound quickly sealed up and she clenched her right fist. Suddenly, the flail burst apart, sending Warren to the ground. An aura of purple surrounded his form, pinning him to the ground as Bovos hovered over the sheriff with an infuriated expression.

"I am no longer amused." The Daemon Prince growled at him, ready to end this game here and now, "Let your final moments be more painful that what man knows!"

"Go fuck yourself, you bitch!" Warren roared at her.

The Daemon Prince was about to follow through with her threat, when suddenly a light came from the sky. The two looked up to see a flaming golden projectile spearing towards them. Bovos moved out of the way before it stopped above Warren, dispelling the aura and dispersing, revealing a golden Winchester repeater with black colored wood that fell onto his chest.

"What the-?" Warren breathed before he saw a note on the stock that said 'USE IT ON HER! -E.' The Daemon Prince looked at the weapon with a horrified expression that didn't go unnoticed to the sheriff on the ground. Warren quickly got to his feet and aimed it at her, causing Bovos to flap her wings away from him with a frightened expression.

Suddenly, Warren began saying a prayer from somewhere in his head.

"And a shepherd I shall be, for Thee, my Lord, for Thee. Power hath descended forth from Thy hand."

He was uttering a prayer, something that he had never once done even after all these years of being an atheist. Both Jane and Bovos were dumbstruck by the fact that he was still able to stand and resist their power.

"That my feet may swiftly carry out Thy command. So we shall flow a river forth to Thee, and teeming with souls shall it ever be."

"In nomine Patri. Et Filii." Warren finished his prayer as he cocked the lever of his Winchester and aimed it at the abomination, "Et Spiritus Sancti."

He fired at the Daemon Prince, hitting her in the abdomen which them exploded in white cleansing Warp Fire. Jane/Bovos screamed in pain, and not the kind that they enjoyed, as the sheriff looked at the gun in shock before a grin spread across his lip.

Warren aimed and fired again and again, hitting the Daemon Prince at several points before the shells exploded in white Warp fire. Bovos attempted to ignore her wounds and fight back but one shell hit her hand, tearing it off. She couldn't even get in a scream before more shells hit her in the chest and wings, shattering the golden mask and piercing her heart.

Bovos screamed in agony as she fell from the sky, slamming onto the ruined ground. The Daemon Prince screamed as it tried to heal Jane's body before it and her were dragged back into the Warp, noticing that Warren was walking towards her.

"WHO ARE YOU?!" Jane screamed as he got close enough to her.

Warren just pointed his Winchester at the beast's head and said, "I'm the sheriff."

The Sheriff fired. The shell pierced her cranium and then her brain, spewing them around the ground and ending the beast once and for all. Suddenly, tendrils of pink warp energy burst from the monster's chest, flying into the air and to parts unknown. Jane's body slowly flaked away into the stream of pink, disappearing just as it came to an end and ascended to the sky. The stream shifted into a facsimile of Jane, screaming as she extended an arm to Warren, trying to escape her fate to no avail as she disappeared into the Warp.

Warren breathed out in relief, sitting on some debris and laying back on whatever was behind him, barely able to keep his eyes open as it reached the stroke of midnight of the new year.

January 15th, 2023... 15 days later...

The Ruins of Sharpwood

1:30PM

Cars sped down the snow filled trails as they came to the mountains, snow falling in droves and winds bellowing like howls of beasts unheard. They were several police cars filled with SWAT team, several media outlets trying to get in on the story of what happened to Sharpwood, and several concerned people who are concerned for the wellbeing of their family members. But as they got to the path to the city, they saw something that gave all of them horrified pause.

The town was utterly ravaged; Block after block sported nothing but gutted and smashed buildings that stand at bizarre angles. A sea of corpses stretched across the entry path, immolated to an unrecognizable degree while fires seemed to be everywhere around parts and edges of the town where several vagrants or survivors of whatever horrid thing that happened during the 15 days since the incident at Sharpwood happened.

But as they got closer, several people slowly came towards them, armed to the teeth. Their gear was an interchangeable mishmash of flak jackets, animal hides, riot suits, leather belts, synthetic combat jackets, plates, leather jackets, helmets, gas masks, night vision goggles, bandanas, motorcycle boots, and hiking boots.

As for weapons; they had all kinds of slugthrowers, flamethrowers, grenade launchers, rocket launchers, bazooka, chemical bombs, mines, blades, spears, bayonettes, clubs, knives, bows and arrows, and crowbars. All of which have been modified to certain extents while others had attack dogs on chains that were barking at the people outside the path.

Each had their own combination of the gear and weapons, but the uniting factor for all of them was that their gear was painted in black with white streaks and an emblem that resembled a skull that had a line going down the middle.*****

"Good God, what the hell happened here?!" One of the civilians yelled in horrified shock as several of them got out of their cars and walked towards the path to the city, only to be stopped by the armed men.

One of them was Dan Kessler, who looked on along with the SWAT teams, was wide eyed at the state of the town and of the armed men gathered around the path. Had Warren made his own cult or militia and had used them to take over the town?

The captain of the SWAT team got to a safe enough distance near them before he got a megaphone and said into it, "ATTENTION MEN IN ARMS! LOWER YOUR WEAPONS AND SURRENDER PEACEFULLY, OR YOU WILL BE SHOT!"

None of them lowered their weapons, if anything, it caused them to tense and raise their weapons at them. The captain was about to shout again when Dan put a hand on the megaphone and taking it into his hand, saying, "How about I do this? Okay, Captain?"

The captain scowled but relented as Dan spoke into the megaphone, "LISTEN UP! WE ARE HERE TO ARREST WARREN KALLINGER! LOWER YOUR WEAPONS AND BRING HIM TO US OR FACE SEVERE RESISTANCE!"

"You will choose your words carefully before you speak to the Warlord." The leading Ghost (Charlie Fletcher) spoke out in a calm but menacing voice. He was dressed in a pair of cargo pants with combat boots, with his upper half dressed in leather duster with a wreath of skulls around his neck and his face painted with winter camo.

Dan paused, "The Warlord?" Were they referring to Warren? If they did, then Dan got an idea as he yelled into the megaphone, "THEN TAKE US TO THE WARLORD."

The Ghosts all paused as Charlie raised an eyebrow before saying in a cautious tone, "Very well, only he comes in. The rest of you must stay." He pointed to Dan who blinked while the others looked at the officer in confusion as Charlie motioned him towards the Ghosts.

"What's your name?" One of them asked him.

"Kessler. Daniel Kessler." The officer answered the intimidating man.

"Good. Now if you know what's good for ya, you're gonna keep your mouth shut."

Dan merely nodded as the armed men lead him to their leader. It was then that he noticed the wide range around the town, buildings had been gutted and reinforced by whatever material they could use, while the civilians had all huddled up near bonfires and barrel fires with some of the Ghosts nearby that seemed unfazed by the cold. Now that he though about it, a lot of them seemed unfazed by the cold now.

After half an hour of walking, they arrived at what was possibly the most intact of all the buildings; a one story building that used to be the police department judging by the destroyed sign near the ruined parking lot. Standing at the entrance of the building were 6 men in modified riot suits in the black and white streaks with ammo belts over their chests and wearing gas masks covered by a black face plate containing the same skull emblem as the other Ghosts.

Charlie saluted to them as did the other Ghosts before the former uttered, "Ave Imperator."

"Ave Imperator." The six saluted in turned before one of them entered the building. A minute later, the Ghosts all knelt down, leaving Dan confused, before the door opened. The Ghost that walked into the building came back out and then knelt down like the rest before the Warlord came out in all his glory.

The officer blinked when he saw the man that was in front of him: Warren was nearly bone thin with his bleached hair reaching his chest, he wore a black long sleeve shirt that was rolled up to elbows, grey cargo pants, black leather combat boots. It was then that Dan saw that he was wearing dog tags that read, "Colonel Liam Elwood Henderson." His eyes were neither lively nor dead, while his posture was one of a ruthless tyrant. ******

The Warlord was as silent as the officer before he looked up to the dark grey sky, softly breathing in tranquility, "'Now is the winter of our discontent.'" Warren quoted Shakespeare as he walked to Dan who stared in shock at the appearance of his friend.

Dan gasped but before he could saw anything, Warren extended his hand. Suddenly, Dan's gun flew out of its holster and into Warren's extended hand, whom grasped it and placed it into his pocket. With his serene expression not changing, the Warlord walked up to the officer and whispered, "Follow me."

The Warlord then forced the officer to walk with him and his Ghosts back to the entrance, several other Ghosts followed him along the way until they reached the pathway to Sharpwood, where the shocked police and civilians were.

He then pointed to a pair of his men, shouting, "Music!" The two nod as one pulled out a stereo from somewhere, the other put in a cassette that he pulled out of his jacket, and the first hit play before cranking up the volume to maximum. The music in question was of an slow orchestral score with an ominous choir before the Warlord began his tale.

"They came from the south side of the town's path. We had no idea what they were in for." Warren began to monologue, motioning to the torn down walls of the outer parts of the ruins while the music played for dramatic effect, "They came at us with 500 men with weapons drawn. It was a fucking ambush!" The Warlord spun around with his arms stretched out, facing the surprised outsiders, "For 2 hours, this place was Armageddon! The flames of corruption rained down from the sky, purple lighting struck the town like spears being thrown from the gods themselves!"

Warren then raised his arms high before he roared to the hells and heavens beyond.

"THERE WAS A FIREFIGHT!"

A blast of thunder and flash of lighting came at the end of that sentence as the Warlord roared at the sky with his fists clenched, teeth grinding, eyes blazing with the intensity of an inferno. Suddenly, the world went dark as it changed. A scene of fire and destruction replaced the landscape of cold and solitude, explosions and gunshots rang through the air, the air itself seemed to burn as a winged and horned thing in the sky screeched at them. Then it stopped.

Everyone, except the Warlord and the Ghosts, all were nearly driven to their knees when Warren suddenly paused. And stayed paused for a few moments before he turned to his men, "All of you: Prepare our transportation! We leave to begin the Witch Hunt!"

The Ghosts all saluted and marched away while the Warlord walked down the pathway and to the edge of the path, staring up at the sky as the clouds slowly parted, revealing the Scorched Sky and the Maw of Annihilation.

Warren grinned at whatever was coming from beyond, "Here we go."

And done! Jesus Christ, this took a long time to do!

For those that are wondering, this whole thing was me transcribing the story of the Indie game This Is The Police 2. I first saw this game about two years ago and I loved it! The story was one of the best I've ever seen! So, I just had to write it down and fit it into the story.

Anyway, Warren is voiced by Willem Dafoe. And if you're all wondering why there are barely any scenes with The Emperor, the Acolytes, and the Justice League? Simple: Warren is far removed from all of them. Same with the ending. No Acolytes, he doesn't know them. He was just an 'average joe' who was pulled into this by accident.

Also, what made Warren fun to write about is that while he's an Anti-Hero, he's also a deconstruction as it's emphasized that he's only human. At first, he's pretty cool, an ex-cop who wants to stop a small town from being taken by Chaos all while being vilified by others. However, it becomes increasingly clear that Warren's consciousness is clearly weighing down on him and that h his actions are not to be rooted for or to be sympathized with. He's taking and screwing with the lives of others, and it's clear that he's hurting people who only want to help.

Take Lilly, who breaks under his controlling attitude and manipulations, or the officers of Sharpwood who have become little more than his puppets, or even Henderson and his smugglers who were just trying to get by only to be swept up by Warren's war.

Warren bends until he breaks from the pressure and the job he's been given, to the point that he's hard to be rooted for. At the end of the chapter, Warren is barely even a shadow of his former self, the only reason he hasn't put a bullet to his skull is because of his sheer self-destructive stubbornness.

Bottomline; he's only human and has flaws.

*The Imperium names for Brick, Butch, Boomer, Blossom, and Buttercup respectively.

**Reality Benders are people from the SCP universe that can, as the name suggests, bend reality. The reason Warren only uses it in a few scenes is because his parents hounded him into not using them unless in emergencies. Also, whenever Warren panics, or is too stunned, shocked or flabbergasted, he forgets that he has his powers due to his mental barriers.

***Though, as you can see, those barriers are slowly beginning to deteriorate from the stress and pressure he's experiencing.

****Now that the barriers are gone, Warren now has unrestricted access to his formerly suppressed powers, making him a force to be reckoned with.

*****Logan Walker's mask pattern from Call of Duty: Ghosts. Also, think of them as like the human version of the Legion of the Damned.

******Think of his appearance and personality now as like Colonel Kurtz from Apocalypse Now.

Feel free to make a TV Tropes page or a reaction fanfic.

See ya!