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Souls of the Night – Vol 3

51.

Logthai Alexander Sevarius (formerly Mr. Alexander Thailog, formerly Project Thailog) lowered his coffee cup as a whole convoy of fire engines drove past the cafe.

Their sirens briefly drowned out everything, and even as their horns faded in the distance, more sirens reached his ears from other directions. All heading the same way. He loved to direct home-grown chaos. Of course, he also liked to do his own business, directly and personally, so that he could see the shock, the horror, the deceit in people's eyes - but in his current state, he had to content himself with being a string-puller and manipulator of middlemen. Even if middleman was too powerful a word for a third-rate, hate-filled psychopath like Miller. He could only feel pity and contempt for such people - more than for the rest of humanity or the more effeminate members of the Gargoyle race. He only tolerated others if they brought him benefit or at least entertainment.

A small childish chuckle escaped him when he saw a police car, also on its way to the "accident scene", almost run over a woman who was rushing across the road. Unfortunately, she still made it to the curb.

"Excuse me?" asked an artificially friendly female voice with a chilly edge to it. He looked up. A new employee. The waitress who knew him and whom he knew must have already left. It was pure coincidence that his favorite coffee shop for years was located right between his home and the scene of the attack, which was why he had effectively secured himself a box seat here. The usual waitresses knew him, had been so frightened by him that they had been conditioned not to question him or bother him in any other way. Obviously, this one had either not been trained or was life-weary and ignored the instructions given to her by senior staff to leave the "child" alone in his regular seat by the window except to bring him new cups of Marroccino. He liked the place. No smelly, slimy greasy food like at others, very quiet (for a Brooklyn coffeeshop) and staff who, once trained to deal with him, treated him as respectfully (maybe even more because the smarter ones sensed the threat) as an adult. But this one wasn't there yet. That could be changed, he was in a magnanimous mood.

He emptied his current cup in one gulp placed it on his saucer and slid it to her.

"Another one of those, dear," he purred, and where before the hearts of oblivious human wenches had flown to him when he had appeared somewhere in his human disguise (and that despite being an "albino"), the woman in front of him now looked down at the pale, white-haired red-eyed child and wrinkled her nose questioningly.

Before she swallowed.

"You shouldn't drink coffee, young man," she said in that TONE that adults often used when interacting with him for the first time. Fortunately, the first time was usually the last. Thailog smiled bitingly and even in the body of a child and a human, it made the woman turn pale.

"It, it's already late. You shouldn't be-," she gasped, probably not even knowing why her heartbeat was accelerating. Thailog's twisted, low laugh of dark disapproval was presumably creating ice flowers on the periphery of the panoramic window he was sitting in front of. It had taken him SO long to get that laugh working again despite his higher pitched voice.

"I'm where I want to be, girl. I'm here for the entertainment. Unless...you can offer me other kinds of entertainment that will hold my attention more," he offered generously. The woman didn't answer, just stared at him.

He sighed - this person was no fun. Thailog pulled out a black Mastercard with Enya's name on it. Her eyes went wide.

"I suggest you do your job before you try to educate strangers. Margareth obviously hasn't told you about me. That's disappointing. Tell her I'll talk to her about it next time."

He tapped his short blunt child's fingernails against the cup demandingly. Tiffany, as her name tag offered, finally moved. She grabbed the cup, wanted to turn away and froze when Thailog murmured her name like a threat. She turned her head slowly. Her expression was petrified, like that of a frightened little animal. Which only made Thailog grin even wider.

"Smile, darling. You're never fully dressed without one!"

She cringed, visibly upset, and took a step back. Then another without taking her eyes off him. Only then did she turn her back on him and hurry behind the counter.

The young gargoyle in human skin grumbled with satisfaction. Yep! He still had it.

He was in a child's body. For many years to come. But his intellect, his cunning, his ... presence was still there and it would only grow stronger from year to year. What did it matter that he "needed" this pathetic worm Miller, who considered himself a wolf. He was a tool and you shouldn't be too proud to use tools. Just as he had used his alias as Darkwing 95 to lull people into getting their hands dirty.

It's the intention behind the actions that really counted. And here it was simply because his "clansmen" were so simple. Was it a possible, if unlikely, scenario in Thailog's mental archive that at least Enya-designed with a superior brain but born with mush between her ears and never fully recovered-would suspect a plot from him after the fall? - Absolutely. But what did it matter! She was an abnormality and completely dependent on Thailog and Brentwood. Because she only had a place in their circle, knew nothing else and would never get to know anything else that even came close to "community" and "belonging". He didn't give a shit about her resentment because it was fleeting. Like a dog that forgets that its master has beaten it and immediately comes back wagging its tail (although this puppy also liked being beaten, which is why he would never honor her with it). What should she do? Punish him like the child he looked like? HE was the master here. HE was the oldest, the smartest, the most shrewd. He was the brain of this community that Enya and Brentwood deemed a clan. He just reminded them both of that. By taking Brentwood's mate, by taking Enya's project, which meant a lot to her because it meant a lot to Brent, and by making it look like it was their fault that an insane human had discovered their den and rendered it inoperable. They had become reckless. Too open. Vulnerable. Flown too close to the proverbial sun.

Perhaps the rationalist in Enya would even recognize it for what it was - a lesson. Thailog had taught her important lessons before. This was no different, even if he would have to sacrifice their current home if it was exposed to the public and therefore the police and clan. He had already had everything that was important to him moved from the house to his warehouse, even back-ups of Enya's projects (apart from Etan - if clones were ever created here again it would be from his blueprint). They would live in this warehouse for a few weeks until things calmed down, then he would find a new building that met his requirements. Brentwood with his small wit- always drifting along but thrown back by today's events to his most important anchor and sacrosanct clan leader would look at him with shining eyes for his foresight. Control and submission. And punishments commensurate with transgressions and always coming out on top - that was how a true Rhydderch ruled.

Now two ambulances drove past and Thailog sighed comfortably as he lifted the cup that a very silent, quickly retreating Tiffany had placed in front of him - even with THREE! cookies instead of one.

He chuckled again.

"This is the future," he murmured with extreme satisfaction.

.


It took Enya a while to hear the alarm tone on her phone over the huffing and puffing of the two men and one woman (she hadn't bothered to memorize their names) she had picked out. She hadn't seen the point of the signal the staff had suggested to her before she'd started her first session organized by her generous Master, but now it was quite helpful that she could tap the naked flank of the guy she could get to best, the one who was currently clogging her throat with his cock, and he'd let go of her. Better than a safe word that she couldn't have used anyway (though she preferred un-safe words). She gasped that her head cleared and the white drizzle disappeared from her peripheral vision, yowling again as the one who had just taken her ass dragged his artificial claws across her back (rarely enough to draw blood but the weals would be pretty good).

"Phone," Enya croaked, propping herself up on her elbows, which were burning with rug-burn, but taking weight off the woman, who impersonated a female red-skinned web-wing gargoyle wearing a leather bodysuit that was already a bit stained from the blood dripping off Enya. And the guy who was miming a gargoyle with white hair and near-black skin, even though he was nowhere near as muscular as the adult Thailog, stalked with a stiff dripping cock but professionally without grumbling about the interrupted blow job to her clothes where her cell phone lay.

He took it and brought it to Enya while her own circus around her paused, real cock in her ass and rubber dildo in her pussy nailing her down motionless. But when Enya unlocked her phone and immediately got connected to her house alarm app - any remaining lust vanished. Her eyes went wide as saucers. "Fuck," she moaned, and all three gargoyle actors in the room heard that it hadn't been a good "fuck" like before. Enya squirmed a little awkwardly but managed to get rid of her penetrators. Forgotten were the thin veils of normal human conformity and she gave no explanation as to why the session was not continuing, what was tearing her away from the event and making her so upset. Enya scrambled to her clothes, getting to her shaky feet.

"What's going on?" her butt-fucker asked, confused. While Enya tapped away on her phone.

"Intruders," she growled, tossing the phone on the bench and unceremoniously ripping the medical needles out of her clit and nipples. One of the guys made a shrill choking noise and slumped forward unconscious, held up with difficulty by the Thailog stand-in, whereas the woman (who had also placed the needles) was the most professional and simply stared at her as she spoke. "Shall we call someone to drive you home, Miss Sevarius?

"Yes. As soon as possible."

The woman disappeared, and so did the fake Thailog, dragging the unconscious other guy behind him. Enya got dressed even though her blood was about to run down her legs and breasts. Regardless, she didn't stop to put on her bra or panties. Less than two minutes later, she was running through the posh brothel, her eyes no longer on the glorious perversions but on her cell phone as she texted Brentwood.

But there was no car outside. Enya looked around, grumbled her most desperate gargoyle whine, then couldn't stand there and wait any longer. If she had to run, she would. She would do anything to save her clan's future and give Brentwood what he desired-even if that would never be her.

.


"We also have this in red," the sales clerk said as Brentwood pondered whether to choose black or white. Dressing Etan all in white had its appeal. On the other hand, would white get dirty faster and would Etan even need that much clothing? Probably yes, because Thailog, his generous master, had given him a whole bundle of banknotes and allowed him to buy whatever Etan would need in the future. Brentwood hadn't thought that his new mate would need anything, he didn't need much himself.

"Take all three," Brentwood said, thrusting the silk and lace backless negligees into the arms of the salesgirl at Spank-me Mama as he pulled out his ringing cell phone. He rolled his eyes when he saw that the message was from Enya. But ... didn't she have her shagging session at Guilty Pleasures today? Surely she wouldn't want him listening in? He was happy that Enya could fulfill her needs, she was his fledgling even if she had a smart head now and an Enya in pain according to her cravings was a satisfied Enya but he didn't want to listen to humans fucking in real time. Since there was gargoyle porn (not with real gargoyles - unfortunately not yet, but with disguised humans) he no longer needed that. And soon even less so with his own wonderful, perfect mate.

But no sooner had he put his phone away than new text messages popped up. He grumbled, opened his app and wanted to text her back that he was busy (after all, there were lots of super fancy fishnet stockings here - Etan would look great in just fishnets even if they had to cut the feet off but Brentwood liked it a bit ragged). But the capital letters in Enya's last text messages looked worrying. And what she wrote! Last came a live stream with a video recording and ... oh God, that was their hallway! And there were people in there.

Screeching, Brent stumbled backwards into one of the changing rooms. Strangers! HUMANS! In HIS house. In Thailog's house! They would find Etan! Cloning was forbidden worldwide - they would call the police and the humans would kill his mate! Brentwood ripped off the plaster, shrieked under the ripples of re-transformation and was through the store, past the screaming sales girl and out before his flying skins were fully developed, outside he caused an accident, jumped on the honking cars and swung into the air. This was HIS future that was at stake here.

.


I wasn't sure if I had ever run that fast before in my life. Nevertheless, I felt like I was in one of those nightmares where you're running for life and death and still only making progress at a snail's pace. The supermarket was two miles away from LeXa ltd but even as I ran out I imagined I smelled smoke. I'd almost been run over in the parking lot and several times along the way I was saved only by my gargoyle echoes and the resulting faster reflexes and the entity tugging at my precognitive strands of consciousness or pushing me aside with a few harsh gusts of wind or slowing me down enough not to become asphalt pizza. I left my life support to the being inside me rather than thinking about my own safety. I kept my eyes mostly on the sky - above the trees and rooftops, always the ominous orange-red glow in my view that simply didn't belong there at this time of night. I had the strong urge to jump onto one of the fire trucks that drove past me, wailing loudly and deafeningly. And the closer I got, the stronger the smell of smoke and fire became.

So much so that I didn't know if my eyes were watering as I ran through the open main gate or if I was just weeping like a willow. It may not have been the inferno I had imagined. But buildings A and C were partially on fire and thick clouds of smoke were billowing out of B and C. The front of A, directly above the main entrance, (LEXINGTONS office!) was torn open as if a giant monster had bitten out a large chunk. E was behind the other buildings.

The amount of fire trucks and emergency vehicles from the police and NYCEM lined up like strings of pearls in the spacious parking lot and closer to the buildings on the lawns was a glimmer of hope and I saw that countless firefighters and helpers were scurrying around. Breathlessly panting, I slowed down and immediately had one of the paramedics with me who wanted to check me for smoke inhalation but I pushed him away and stumbled to the floodlit assembly point on the sports field at the edge of the site. The wind was blowing "favorably" which was probably why the employees were not evacuated from the site and why tents were just set up here by NYCEM and the hospitals to care for any casualties. Those who did not have to be taken away due to serious injuries.

Perhaps a hundred staff in various degrees of shock, nervous fidgeting or secondary injuries from lacerations to minor smoke inhalation were sitting on the floor or standing around. Anthony, who I knew, like Chad, was trained as a company first responder and emergency caregiver, was wrapping gauze around a woman's presumably broken ankle. He had ash smears on his face and a dirty uniform but otherwise looked okay.

"Ant!" I shouted as I got to him. He looked up, his smile relieved but immediately worried because he knew I'd had the day off.

"Where are the others? Where's Lexington?" I almost shrieked. I didn't need to see the look on his face to know that I wouldn't like part of the answer. But I knew what Gargoyles were like - if Lex had been here, he would have been in a bad shape - too bad to help however he could here.

"Ali's with the ambulances and she's on oxygen, her smoke inhalation will wear off. Lavonne is with her," he evaded my question sympathetically.

I nodded. Lavonne had also had the day off, but I wasn't surprised that our passionate pack mom had also dropped everything to - well, to do what here? Probably the same as me. To see what could still be saved from our company, our colleagues, our team, our LOVED ONES. NO! I couldn't think like that! Think positively. Stay calm. The worst does NOT always happen when disaster strikes. This was three out of five, Chad and Lex were here somewhere too - Lexington was the boss, and a gargoyle! Surely he was coordinating rescue and fire units.

That left Chad.

"Where's Chad?" I asked, again rubbing away tears from the dryness in the air. My throat was parched too.

Anthony avoided my gaze and pressed his lips together.

"ANTHONY!" I demanded desperately.

"There - there were problems. The water sprinklers only came on in one part of the buildings. And ... There was also an explosion on the water pipes leading to the site. The fire department has to lay hoses from the Paerdegat Basin to be able to extinguish everything. There are always blackouts in the systems, which make rescue and extinguishing work more difficult. He got himself a protective suit, breathing masks and goggles ... and went back inside. Not everyone got out, but he's looking for them now,' he said. The fact that he still hadn't mentioned Lexington (even though that was the first thing I wanted to know and he knew it) made my heart sink.

I stared at him, looking across the field from where I had a disturbingly good view of three of the Five Buildings. From here, I could see that E was still mostly intact. It was also the building furthest away from the others, and some of the fire engines scattered around the site were closest to it. Please let Lex be in there. If he was anywhere, hopefully he was there.

"Also an explosion...," I repeated slowly and something inside me... the entity or the smarter part of my subconscious was suddenly completely energized, downright angry. I growled and I didn't give a shit that I was being loud. Then I turned back to Ant.

"Have you seen Lex?" I asked. The entity inside me swirled with agitated, urgent fear - what did it know, what did it perceive that I didn't?

"No," Ant finally said, and that was all I needed. I ran to the ambulances. All the back doors were open, each with at least two people in breathing masks to help them breathe until they could walk or were stable enough to be taken away. I smelled burnt meat in the air, felt macabrely reminded of a barbecue and wanted to puke. Lavonne was sitting with Ali in front of one of the ambulances. Ali also had tear tracks on her sooty gray cheeks (and one arm in a makeshift sling) but maybe that was the smoke because when she looked up, she smiled at me like she didn't know her husband was playing hero in one of the buildings - more than his job ever justified.

Lavonne next to her looked wild and disheveled, wearing no makeup, just a tank top and sweatpants, and had bare dirty feet! How close to the premises she lived - she must have started running immediately, just like me. She jumped up and came to me and hugged me like I was the one who needed the most emotional support - oh no.

I pushed her away from me with painfully widened eyes.

"Chat is in!" I said.

"Yeah, he's tough, he'll find Lex," she said, trying to grab my upper arms as I tore away from her and stumbled back. I had suspected it, but the confirmation still hurt. LEXINGTON was still inside too!

"In what part of the building!" I gasped.

"Chad worked as a firefighter for four years, he'll find him," said Ali, who had also stood up and was able to join us thanks to the five-yards cable of the oxygen mask. She nodded encouragingly but with sadness in her eyes, which was directed at ME, as if she didn't have the slightest worry about her husband.

"WHICH BUILDING!" I shrieked and wanted to howl to the heavens. I knew I was being irrational and panicky and unfair but I couldn't lose him. Not like this. If there was the slightest chance that I could make a difference then I had to try.

Alistair and Lavonne looked at each other, then at me. "He was in C - engineering labs. He wanted to be done by 10, so he must have been there already," Lavonne said, proving that she and Lex communicated regularly outside of company chat (and team 34 chat).

I was whirling around and was horrified to see thick clouds of smoke billowing out of the building's windows, which had already burst. If he was right on a front ... but just couldn't see anything? His big eyes must be almost blind and even if he wasn't injured he could - But the SMOKE! People rarely died in fires from flames, but more often from suffocation. Gargoyles were tough but ... While my thoughts were still swirling, not knowing what I wanted to do but knowing I HAD to do something, I was already running. Lavonne and even Ali called after me but I ignored them. At the edge of the sports field, a policeman who saw that I was heading towards the buildings tried to stop me, but I dodged him and he fell down because he was reaching for nothing. I pushed past people, ignored worried and outraged and warning shouts, slid with my butt over the hood of a police car, dived under barrier tape with gargoyle-like agility.

Don't think, just act, don't thinkjust act, don'tthinkjustact ... My mind was as good as empty as I dodged more people, saw other humans standing at the edge of my field of vision behind barrier tape now and at a safe distance from the fire, many with faces twitching in the light and shadow play of fire department and police lights as well as the flames.

"Nathaniel! Come back here! What are you doing?" I heard Lavonne screech. I ignored her, running so close to the buildings that I could feel the heat. Only firefighters in special suits that made them look like awkward aliens and move sluggishly under weights such as breathing apparatus, helmets and protective clothing could still be here. The emergency vehicles were almost all around the perimeter of the building, so it wasn't really quiet at E either, even though everything seemed fine with the building and the police were just trying to keep the flames away. I jumped onto the lowered fire escape outside the building and started to climb. People were shouting behind and increasingly below me that I should come back. All they saw was a world-weary lunatic who didn't know what he was doing. I didn't KNOW what I was doing either. Not ... exactly. I was driven by a hope that clearly fell into the category of madness, but if all I had was hope-?

"The building has not been cleared. There's still a risk of further explosions!" shouted one of the professionals, for whom I also had no eye. I took the last steps of the fire escape, ran across the roof towards building C ... and stumbled to a halt, almost falling over the edge of the roof from the momentum.

I was gripped by paralyzing fear - or maybe just common sense, which finally drowned out echoes and heroic, desperate gargoyle spirit. Building D- kissed by flames lay slightly to the side- Building C was closer but those were still ... maybe 25 yards? Facts stole their way into my head, trying to scare me further. The human record for a horizontal jump was about 12 feet. The record for a run-up jump was ... a maximum of 30 and that was already sick, requiring decades of training and conditioning and muscles in the right places and technique. I had NONE of that and this was not 30 feet but more than twice that. It was SO far and I couldn't even see the eaves of C for all the smoke- I would fall and my body would end up shattered on the ground. But... I had hope. Madness and despair and rage-driven hope because almost all the buildings were exposed to explosions and SO many safety mechanisms were failing was IMPOSSIBLE. Not in a company that Lexington had helped build.

I heard Lavonne calling again from below - something I couldn't understand. Then I flinched as a voice, amplified by a megaphone, blared up.

"Come down from there, you're preventing rescue and extinguishing measures!" lied one of the incident commanders, who from below probably didn't even see that I was glaring at him. What was I preventing here - nobody was putting out fires here - probably because they weren't wasting scarce water on smoke until the hoses from the basin were operational.

I knew that dozens of eyes were on me from the incident commanders, parts of my team, coworkers and onlookers. But how indifferent I was to everything. If I had a tiny chance of helping my mate and teammates, maybe saving them, then I HAD to try the most insane thing I could think of. I recoiled backwards on the roof, a desperate snarl on my face as I fixed my eyes on the other building I HAD to get to. My words sounded hoarse and arid but I meant every one of them, pleading to Allah that someone or something heard me.

"Okay. I don't know what you are. But I know you're more my ally than my enemy. You are not a delusion - you are - you are a part of me. You are my ... wisp. I can feel that you like Lexington, that you enjoy it when we're together. You even like our team. Please, please help me. If you don't, we'll both fall into the depths together. Let's find our mate, whatever you do with me afterward is fine with me, but let's save Lex and Chad. We're in this together so ... show me what you've got!" With that, I took off running. Heard the gravel under my shoes. Heard someone scream, even heard a lot of screams as I jumped.

.


Miles away, Alex writhed in bed with a strength Flora wouldn't have believed him capable of. He clawed at the sheets and the smell of rapidly burning life energy became almost unbearable and would suck the life out of her first if she didn't feel her husband blocking that connection between them right now.

"Alex? What is it?"

"I ... don't know," he grunted, his eyes and teeth clenched tight in pain. "It's hammering harder. It hurts so much."

"Can you send it to Owen?"

Alex closed his eyes. The frown that made him look so much older deepened, then he shook his head frantically. "I...no power, damn it, something's happening to Nate."

.


Miller stood open-mouthed on the stairs leading down to the basement.

"Wow, we shouldn't have started frisking the house in the attic," said the guy who had introduced himself as Bob but whose name was definitely not Bob. Like his two other companions, he hadn't met this guy through Darkwing 95 and his seemingly inexhaustible resources of money and knowledge, but through his own little call. Which he had started from an internet cafe because his computer wasn't working reliably and because he honestly suspected that the Wyvern asshole was somehow always sabotaging his internet activities.

But not anymore after today. Tonight the tide turned for James Miller. It almost physically hurt him not to see that damn demon shelter masquerading as a company blow up. Even more so if Wyvern died because HE wanted to kill him, he had made that clear to the others. Yes, he had planted and timed the bombs and his people on the scene had confirmed a phenomenal success. They would also make sure that Lexington and his Taliban Gargoylelover didn't get far in the fire.

But gargoyles were survivalists even in the most unlikely situations, had more lives than damn cats, and most importantly, they all ran wherever they thought one of their own was in danger. That was why Miller (however fanatical and spiteful he was) preferred NOT to be where the whole clan would soon be, including the police, fire department and numerous onlookers. THIS HERE - that would be his triumph. It looked like a sideshow, but here in this musty cellar was the real jackpot.

There was a clone cell in this run-down brownstone house with heaps of stone chips on the attic floor and frozen HUMAN body parts labeled Dimitri in the freezer! Anyone who did a little googling found out what a clone cell looked like. And in this large tank - in hundreds of liters of orange liquid, connected to the ground by an umbilical cord, floated a tiny clone, barely more than a large handful. But with a tail and wings. THIS was a gargoyle breeding station! They didn't breed eggs that took years to hatch! They breed each other to adult size within months.

That was all the proof Miller needed. To finally open everyone's eyes. How many of these breeding stations were spread across this city, how many across the country? Were hundreds of thousands of monsters maturing right now, this very minute, to shatter the supremacy of mankind? - THAT is what everyone would be wondering. THAT would soon be discussed in the social media and in the white house. He himself would shake the president's hand, they would probably make him governor or member of his cabinet! His rise accompanied by the fall of the non-human scum - this is what justice looked like. This is what the future looked like. James Miller, the beacon of a new era, pulled out his camera and began to take pictures.


.

Dramatic - I know. And how many locations do I have to cover? Enya, Miller, Thailog, Ares, Nathaniel - remember all the perspective changes in the Brood of a New Age chapters where the building collapsed? - yeah - this is going to be another one of those. So buckle up and get your heart pills ready, it's going to be brutal and bloody. Character death ahead.

P.S. Brentwood is the last person in this (that) universe you want picking out negligees for you. Worse than the men who want to buy a bra for their girlfriend and when asked what size say "a handful of each".

And do you know Spank me Mama! That's from Christine Morgan! She wrote a little chapter where Lexington's mate (yes, girlfriend- it was 2001 when she wrote this) picks out underwear there and it's hilarious! Multiverse Convergence. Woohoo.

I shouldn't be so cheerful - it's impious. After all, there are deaths coming.

Thanks for reading, Q.T.