Bounty Head Bebop Comlink
Role Playing Games => BZ's Games => Disciples => Topic started by: BerkaZerka on June 09, 2016, 09:03:43 pm
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Washington DC; Saturday March 19th 2016
Up until this morning, the Class of 2016, Washington DC Trip, had been an unmitigated success - as the buses pulled up to the hotel to begin loading students, chaperones, staff, and luggage for the return trip back to Hartford Connecticut.
It had begun on Wednesday the 16th, with a six hour ride to Gettysburg Pennsylvania on a convoy of charter buses. John was grateful for his parent's contributions to the trip and their corporate sponsorship - these charter buses being much preferable to the old yellow school buses the original budget had allowed for. That and the rooms at the Gettysburg Courtyard Marriot and DC Metro Marriot, as opposed to the Gettysburg Super 8 and Arlington Virginia Econo lodge.
On Thursday the 17th, the class went from Gettysburg to Harpers Ferry West Virginia for half the day, visiting the battlefields and historic sites and then onto the hotel in Washington DC itself.
Friday the 18th was spent touring all the best sites: The United States Capitol, the United States Supreme Court, the Library of Congress, the Washington National Cathedral, the Newseum, The White House, the 9/11 Pentagon Memorial, the Arlington National Cemetery, the National Mall, the Holocaust Memorial Museum, and the Smithsonian Institutions.
It was a long but fascinating day and everyone was accounted for, as they all returned to the hotel for their last night, before the return trip in the morning.
And that was when things all fell apart.
John was taking roll call, as his bus loaded, checking off students from his class one-by-one, while they took their seats. That was when the last student filed in and sat down - only it wasn't the last student.
Tiffany Brandt, one of the popular girls, was missing...
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What would they do without you, John. John sighs internally. Of course someone is missing. Can't have a trip without one of these children doing something silly. She's probably still at breakfast.
"Has anyone seen Tiffany Brandt?!" He shouts out in the bus. She's popular, someone definitely knows where she is.
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At the question, John saw three girls, toward the back of the bus, begin to chatter and bicker among themselves. One of them even seemed horrified by it and appeared to be tearfully arguing with the other two.
It was Tiffany's three roommates - Ashley, Emily, and Lauren.
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John raises an eyebrow, slightly worried already. He heads down the bus towards the three.
"Girls? Are you three okay?"
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The girls immediately went silent at John's approach, but they clearly knew something. Emily's mascara had started running from her tears and she wiped them with a sleeve and looked away out the bus window.
Ashely, considerably more composed, offered - "We thought she had gone down to breakfast before we got up."
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John's face pales.
"Please, I need to know. What happened? I'll fix it. I have friends who can help if she got in trouble."
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"What? No! Nothing happened!" Ashely insisted.
"But what if something did happen?" Emily shot back, turning from the window to give Ashely a look, as if to ask, 'what the hell?!?'.
Lauren meanwhile, just looked down at her feet, avoiding eye contact with everyone.
"Mr. Sterling?" a young man asked from behind, tapping John on the shoulder.
"Eew! Mind your own business nerd!" Ashely growled in disgust, at the obviously unwanted intrusion.
"Mr. Sterling," the teen in thick glasses with a pocket-protector continued, ignoring Ashley's glares - it was James Calvin, one of John's more 'academically successful' students.
"I saw them going out last night. The four of them. They snuck out after room check. They were all dressed kind of... slutty."
"What?!?" Ashely spat, "You lying asshole!"
"My mom's going to kill me!" Emily wailed.
"Farking pervy stalker!" Lauren accused.
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John tsks.
"No cursing kids. I thought we had a talk about language." John chastises. He turns to James.
"Thank you James." He says, and motions him to return to his seat, before turning back to the girls.
"Listen, no one will get in trouble. I just need to know what happened, okay?"
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"Nothing happened!" Ashely insisted; "We didn't see her this morning; So what? We're not her babysitter!"
"Yeah, nothing happened," Lauren agreed; "Except pervo here - creeping on us last night! Why don't you ask him what happened to Tiffany huh? Maybe he's got her tied up somewhere, after he couldn't get himself off just leering at us!"
Emily meanwhile, didn't say anything. She just looked like a deer caught in the headlights.
As this went on, the rest of the kids on the bus listened intently, some texting, and others even capturing the entire conversation on video. This was no longer an appropriate venue to question the girls, and John realized that he was going to need help from another adult, if he was going to get to the bottom of this without involving the police.
God, he hoped it wouldn't come to that.
It then occurred to John that the three girls didn't have their phones out. For them, that was really unusual.
In fact, John couldn't even remember a time that they didn't have those stupid phones in hand, texting and surfing Facebook, even when a teacher was talking to them directly. It was not uncommon to see the four of them together in a room, facedown in their phones, thumbs ablazing, having a whole discussion without saying a single word verbally to one other.
Damn, what was the world coming to?
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It's definitely messed up that the only thing that can get them off their phones is their friend getting lost. John has a lot of work to do. Ugh. But fine. If they went out last night, the hotel secuirty should have a video of it. Probably, right? He can see if Brandt returned last night at the very least.
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Making sure the bus wasn't going to leave, John went in to talk with hotel security.
They weren't initially keen on letting him view their tapes, until he explained the missing student. "Right this way Mr. Sterling," the hotel manager directed, taking John into the security area.
The room was behind the front desk and had monitors covering an entire wall with a large server-rack feeding cables to them. At a large desk in the room was a security guard, feet propped up, sipping his morning coffee and eating a bagel.
"Mr. Benson!" the manager coughed, startling the man and causing his feet to slide off the desk and his coffee to spill in his lap.
"Shit!" the security guard cursed, sitting up quickly and grabbing napkins to dab at the hot coffee now scalding his crotch.
"Sorry to interrupt your morning break," the manager said, inferring that the man had not really been slacking on the job just then. "One of the students is missing from their field trip. I need you to bring up the tapes from last night after 9:00pm. Start with the hallway outside room 533."
"2100 - right," the man replied, hitting some keys at the computer on his desk.
The three of them then watched as a recording came up from that timeframe.
It showed the kids going into their rooms for the night, the chaperone's room check, and then nothing unusual for a while. Fast forwarding, the security guard slowed it again, when the door to room 533 opened just after 11:00pm.
The four girls had gone out, just like the student James Calvin had said - dressed in highly inappropriate outfits. In fact, another door further down the hallway could be seen opening and James coming out (unseen by the girls). He stared at the girls for a moment, then shook his head and went across the hall to get ice, before heading back into his room.
Further footage, showed the quartet of girls getting on the service elevator, then sneaking out the back of the loading dock into the alley. At that point, they walked off camera.
Forwarding the tape some more, the security guard stopped at another event. It was 3:00am.
It showed a white van drive up into the alley and stop. The back door then opened and someone threw Ashley, Emily, and Lauren out on the street one-by-one, before closing the door and driving off.
Tiffany was not with them and the three girls looked dazed and a sorry mess. Their already skimpy attire was torn and missing coverage and they just lay there in a pile nearly ten minutes, until groggily coming too and stumbling back into the hotel.
On the elevator coming up to their rooms, they could be seen swaying heavily, looking completely trashed. Getting off the elevator, they barely made it down the hall, practically hanging onto the wall for dear life - as if trying to walk down the pitching deck of ship in high water.
"Shit, what happened to the other kid?" the security guard asked in shock.
Fast forwarding further showed nothing new on the tapes until 7:00am, as the kids began to wake up and head down to breakfast.
"I think we are going to have to call the police Mr. Sterling," the hotel manager announced gravely.
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"Shit." John mutters. This is way bigger then just girls getting drunk. John was hoping that Brandt was at worst in the hospital. This looks like a possible kidnapping...
"No, no, we can't have that. That'll just make a bad situation worse. Really. I'm sure this won't need the police. At least not now. I can fix this."
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"Sir!" the hotel manager said in disbelief, "If these girls were assaulted - and one possibly kidnapped from the hotel?!?"
"That is not something one can just sweep under the rug!"
He rubbed his chin a moment and looked at John, feeling a stab of pity for the guy.
"I'll tell you what," he offered, "bring the three of them and the kid from the hallway in here and we'll see if they can explain themselves. If they have anything that can lead directly to the missing girl, then maybe - just maybe - this is something we can handle ourselves."
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John nods.
"Thanks." He says, heading back to gather the group. Ugh, They dont deserve him, but he needs to do this. Everyday it becomes more apparent that he is needed.
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Holy shit. What a farking day…
It had been four hours since John brought the kids off the bus for questioning by hotel security.
Ashely insisted that nothing had happened and continued to deny, even after being shown the tapes. The kid would make a lovely politician someday.
Emily broke down and told everything when she saw herself on the video, which Lauren confirmed, after being separated from Ashely long enough to think for herself (possibly for the first time in her young adult life).
James didn’t have anything to add, having only seen the girls leaving their rooms, which was already on tape, so he gave his statement and was let back on the bus.
From what the girls told them, they had seen a flyer for a Friday night rave not too far from the hotel and snuck out after bed-check to attend.
They remembered arriving, dancing and drinking, taking pictures on their phones, and then nothing. They couldn’t even remember coming back to the hotel – just waking up in the morning and thinking Tiffany had gone down to breakfast early or something. That and their cell phones were missing.
Unfortunately, given the nature of the situation, the police had to be called in. When they arrived, they questioned the girls again – the incident being treated as an assault and kidnapping.
Even with the police, Ashely continued to be uncooperative, but they convinced Emily to go to the hospital for a rape-kit. Ashely utterly refused, and Lauren was hesitant, until the police contacted the parents.
Of course the parents went completely apeshit – promising to get down to DC as soon as possible.
The rest of the students were questioned on the buses, to see if anyone else knew something relevant. When it was clear that they didn’t, the busses were finally released to take the kids back home to Connecticut. John and Mrs. Dunn, one of the music teachers, were left behind at the hotel, in case Tiffany showed back up again.
In the meantime, Ashely, Lauren, and Emily were taken from the hospital to the police station, to be held as witnesses to a crime, while the authorities began their investigation into Tiffany’s disappearance.
“I heard the police found their torn clothes, discarded in their room trash,” Mrs. Dunn said, pacing back and forth in the comped hotel room, “and took them for evidence.”
Mrs. Dunn was a bit chatty when she was worried or nervous.
“My gosh, they were even talking about rohypnol! Those poor girls!”
“How long do they expect us to wait here? I hope they find her soon!”
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John scoffs.
"Not gonna wait here hoping the cops manage to stop wasting time, Mrs. Dunn. Think I'm gonna have to go investigate. I'm sure I can trace the trail or something."
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"I suppose that's OK," Mrs. Dunn replied. "I can wait here, while you do that, in case she shows up."
"Just be careful and call me the moment you find anything!"
Mrs. Dunn then sat down in one of the room chairs, her cell phone in hand, already waiting for the call, before John had even left...
John gathered his things and was about to go, when Mrs. Dunn practically screamed out - "WAIT! I KNOW!"
Turning to see what she meant, John saw her frantically dialing the phone.
"Rachel?" Mrs. Dunn said into the phone, holding a finger up for John, indicating he wait a minute. "Yes, this is Mrs. Dunn, you know about incident at the hotel with the girls, right?"
An inaudible voice on the other side of the line answered ...
"Right!" Mrs. Dunn continued, "Did they post anything about it to their facebook pages?"
Rachel took a while to reply to that one ...
"No, I'm not asking for access and I promise I won't tell! I just need you to tell me anything you think could help us find her!"
A shorter reply this time ...
"Pictures? Yes, that would be most helpful! Thank you!"
Mrs. Dunn hung up her phone, explaining to John, "Whoever did this took their phones. That got me thinking, they must have taken incriminating pictures. But girls are pretty quick to post that sort of stuff to their facebook accounts. They may have uploaded something before their phones were taken away."
"Rachel is going to text me some pictures of the girls at the rave!"
A few minutes later, the pictures came.
They showed Ashely, Lauren, Emily, and Tiffany being terribly stupid and irresponsible - drinking and dancing at a huge crowded rave in a large open warehouse of some kind.
Only two pictures in question seemed to offer any real information though.
One showed the four girls posing in their skimpy outfits outside a loading dock with a red velvet rope in the background, holding a flyer for the rave. Zooming in on the flyer gave John an address.
The other picture showed the four girls, palling around and boozing it up with a fifth girl their own age. A local maybe? The five of them were at the rave, playfully tied together in those silly glowstick necklace things.
What gave John the creeps about the photo however, was a man in the crowd behind the girls, leering at them with an odd Mona Lisa type smile - perhaps enjoying their antics a little too much...
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John nods.
"Perfect. Finally something good comes out of facebook." He says. "I'll head over."
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John left the hotel and walked to the address from the flyer, it being about five and a half blocks away.
After the stroll, he arrived at a large commercial building that appeared to have once been a printing company - but the place was deserted and placarded over with fading 'for lease' and 'no trespassing' signs.
Walking around a bit, John found the loading dock he had seen in the photo. There was no velvet rope, but party trash was scattered everywhere and police tape quarantined-off three loading doors that entered into the dark warehouse beyond.
'Crime Scene Do Not Enter' the yellow and black tape proclaimed.
So the police had already been here. John couldn't help but wonder what they had found...
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John sneaks under the tape. It's just some snooping, and it can't hurt. (Also, if he does get in trouble his parents can bail him
Out.
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Inside was a large open warehouse with remnants of giant print machinery set off to the sides. The place was utterly trashed, with bottles, spent glowsticks, confetti, and streamers all over the floor.
John could see where a stage of sorts had been set up for the DJs and their equipment. This must have been one hell of a party.
No one was about, but the place was quite dark in the periphery. Even if John knew what he was looking for, his smartphone wasn't going to give enough light for a proper search.
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"Just need to figure out who arranged this thing." John grumbles, as he heads over to the stage. Maybe they left something over there?
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Whoever hosted the rave cleaned up after themselves pretty thoroughly (party trash aside) - probably because what they were doing wasn't legal.
Still, something niggled at John, telling him there had to be a useful clue in here in here somewhere... he just needed to figure out what that clue was.
As John stood on the makeshift stage, he brought up the pictures that Mrs. Dunn had gotten from Rachel - the music teacher having forwarded them to John's phone.
The one showing the girls at the rave also showed colored strobe-lighting flashing across the dancefloor from above. They would have needed electrical power for that, not to mention for all the music and DJ equipment. Indeed, the remains of duct-tape binding could be seen on the nearby I-beams, where power-cords would have been run up to the strobe-light placements. They could have brought generators, but that would have been competing noise for the music.
It didn't seem likely however, that this old warehouse was still hooked up for power.
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John follows the duct-taped trail. Perhaps there is a something left behind.
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Following the trail of duct-tape bindings, John climbed down from the stage and then went around behind it - where a massive pair of industrial power cables could be seen stretching along the floor from out of the dark periphery.
The things were inch-thick copper cores in heavy rubber insulation. The ends on this side were mashed, where they had (at some point) been clamped into power equipment of some kind. It occurred to John that it would need to have been some pretty beefy equipment to handle the amount of power these cables could deliver. Best not to touch them to see if they were still live...
Following the cables away from the stage, John moved toward the backside of the warehouse, past giant rolling drums and other print machinery from days gone by. They must have run newspapers here, decades ago - likely having gone under with the advent of the internet.
It was dark back there, but with the screen of his phone lit up, John could make out a large grate in the floor along the back wall, where the power cables came up through. There was a man-hatch in the grate, which at some time had been secured with a heavy padlock - but that padlock now lay broken nearby.
Looking down through the grate, John could see a steel ladder dropping at least fifty feet to a passage below. The power cables ran along behind the ladder and out into the passage at the bottom.
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Looking down through the grate, John could see a steel ladder dropping at least fifty feet to a passage below. The power cables ran along behind the ladder and out into the passage at the bottom.
"Shit. That's definitely something." John mutters. "What kind of teens set up a generator in a sewer?"
He puts the phone in his pocket, and climbs on down.
"I didn't become a teacher to climb down sewer drains..."
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Arriving at the bottom of the ladder, John took his phone back out, so he could see again, and looked around.
A concrete passage ran under the length of the warehouse down here, which had to be at least a couple hundred of feet long. John pressed forward, trailing the heavy power cables that followed along the passage, until the passage itself came to a stop.
There, the power cables went up into an old junction box on the wall - the cover of which was missing. Faded red paint above the box warned 'DANGER HIGH VOLTAGE! ELECTROCUTION HAZARD!', while an ancient looking scissor switch inside the box - straight out of some mad scientist movie - was labeled 'To Mill'.
Another set of cables came out of the ceiling, above the junction box, bisected it, and then continued on down through the floor itself. These super heavy cables were wrapped in two and a half inches of really old looking insulation that was now cracked and brittle. Where it came through the junction box was a label that read, 'Rail Main'.
The whole thing hummed with an ominous electrical buzz, and it was clear that the scissor switch was there to divert power from the 'Rail Main; to 'The Mill' when pulled. No doubt that this was the source of the rave's power - though John could definitely see someone getting electrocuted, just trying to throw the switch.
'Crazy ass kids. Lucky they didn't fry themselves down here!'
John then swung his limited light source from the junction box to further examine the immediate area. That was when he noticed the yawning expanse of a recently excavated hole in south wall - directly across the passage from the junction box. He hadn't seen it before, because up to this point, he had just been shining the light on the ground to follow the cables.
Looking with his cell phone into the hole, John saw a crudely dug tunnel, that only went a short distance, before ending at another hole - this time, through a very old looking brick wall.
Another expanse of darkness lay on the other side of the brick wall, indicating an open space too vast for the meager light of the cell phone to fully reveal.
As John considered what to do next, his cell beeped. Looking, he could see that using his phone as a flashlight was quickly draining the battery. He only had 10% battery life remaining, which at this rate, would be about five minutes of light left.
To make matters worse, the phone chose that very point to automatically go into power-saving mode - dimming even more.
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"Ah Fark." John mutters. "Where'd the kids get the money to do all this excavation? And all for a silly rave? Ach. World's really going to shit."
He then bends down and starts to crawl foward. Gotta go fast.
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Heading into the tunnel, John spotted something glimmering in the darkness. It was sitting in the dirt, under the hole through the old brick wall.
Looking closer, John picked up a silver bangle or charm bracelet that was just laying there. John had seen this before. Flipping to the pictures of the rave, he confirmed his suspicion - Tiffany was wearing it in the photos.
Pocketing the bracelet, John then peered through the hole exiting the passage. It opened into a fifteen foot wide concourse of brick-laid stairs, divided by a rusty handrail running down the center.
To the right, the stairs rose up about eight feet from the hole, where they ended at the backside of a concrete pouring-form. Some of the wood had dry-rotted away, revealing the concrete slab on the other side, cutting off the stairs in that direction.
To the left, the stairs dropped down farther than John's light could penetrate.
It looked like a very old set of subway stairs, sealed off at some point, well before the warehouse above would have even been built.
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"How drunk did she get?" John wonders, checking his phone's battery before heading down the stairs,
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John guessed that the stairs descended another hundred and fifty feet, before opening up at the bottom onto an old subway platform.
Checking his phone, he saw that he still had 8% battery left; meaning he could explore a little more, until it got down to 5%. If he turned back then, it should give him enough light to make it back to the ladder in the warehouse above.
Turning his attention to the area at hand, John saw that a single-rail subway tunnel ran along the concrete platform. Though old and apparently sealed off for quite some time, a red light dimly illuminated the front of a subway car resting on the tracks at the far end of the platform. Surely it wasn't still in use - but that did mean there was power down here. Best not to walk on the tracks then, as the third rail could easily electrocute a man.
Scanning the trash-strewn platform, John could see satanic graffiti, spray painted all over the walls in red and black. It occurred to John that a gang might be using this hidden space - but how would they have known to excavate into it from up top? Unless there was another way into the area, down the tracks somewhere.
No one seemed to be about however, until John suddenly noticed the cherry glow of a lit cigarette in the darkness near the subway car. Someone was sitting against the wall having a smoke!
"You're not a cop, are you?" a teen girl's voice asked casually. Too casually for John's liking...
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John frowns. Freaking teens and their smoking spots.
"Uh, no. But you shouldn't be smoking here, it's not really safe."
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"And you're some expert on what's safe?" the girl asked sarcastically, "If you were, you wouldn't be down here all alone."
The kid then stood up and threw her cigarette down, extinguishing it with her foot.
She moved forward into John's light. It was the girl from the rave photo.
"You looking for a good time? Or what?"
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John's face ligts up with recognition.
"Oh, you're that girl from the party. No wonder you're smoking, ugh." John says, shaking his head.
"I'm looking for a girl, she was at the rave. Tiffany Brandt? Is she also here?" John asks, waving his phone around.
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"Oh! haha!" the girl laughed mischievously; "It's time to pay the piper, right?"
"Yeah, she's here," she continued, thumbing toward the door of the darkened subway car - "sleeping off the world's most killer hangover."
"The kid's got a real problem, you know?"
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"Not sure you got a right to talk." John mutters, he moves to the rail-car door to open it.
"What about you? Your parents are definitely worried as well.0
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"Parents are over-rated," the girl replied smugly, as John slid the door open. It was dark inside, but his light fell on the outline of someone slumped on the floor across the aisle.
Taking the scene in, John's heart skipped a beat - it was Tiffany!
But she was unconscious, covered in blood, and handcuffed to a rail! Her shirt had been torn off and it looked as though her throat has been slit! Blood stained her mouth, flowed down her chin, under her neck, and down between her naked breasts!
"Looks like you're the one with the problem now!" the girl mocked, shoving John remarkably hard from behind.
Tripping on the gap between the platform and car, John went flying forward, to slam into the seats opposite the door - next to Tiffany's body. His cellphone slipped from his hand and smashed against the wall - immediately going dark!
Spinning around to face his attacker, John heard a moan escape Tiffany's lips and felt her stir slightly, against his leg. God! She was still alive!
The single red light, outside the subway car, was doing almost nothing to pierce the confounding darkness within. But John could still make out the rave girl - silhouetted against the dimly lit tunnel behind her - standing in the doorway he had just flown through. She had her feet planted and a hand on each side of the doorframe - as if she meant to keep John from leaving the car.
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Shit shit shit shit shit.
John quickly tries to scoop up Tiffany before trying to run through the teen. Teens aren't heavy right? And they are definitely not strong. Yeah.
And since when do they play these kinds of sick jokes? What the hell happened to the Capital?
-
Tiffany was easy enough to pick up, but her wrist was still handcuffed to the rail, and John realized we wouldn't be able to move her, without seriously wrecking her arm (if at all).
"You want her?" A male voice asked coldly, from the dark recesses further into the rail car.
Looking, John could see two glowing red eyes, shining eerily through the shadows - like some demon staring at him from the abyss!
A momentary sweep of terror, inexplicably shifted to an unexplainable burning lust. John's knew he was in danger, but he found himself completely distracted - staring down at Tiffany's perfect little breasts.
Thoughts of sliding his hands along her bloodied wet skin clouded his mind. Thoughts of removing that ever so thin layer of cloth, separating him from the sensual pleasures under her skirt ... He just needed to tear open his pants and bury himself in her now!
After all, it wasn't as if John actually had a choice.
'No!' Deep down, John knew he still had a sliver of control. As powerful as these primal urges were, a part of him still struggled to resist.
'This is rape!' it prompted, from deep within his soul.
'I have never touched a student, or seriously considered their flirting,' John reminded himself - slowly starting to get a grip on himself.
After a momentary battle of will, the devilish temptation up and vanished completely.
"How disappointing," the voice derided, as the man with the glowing eyes stepped forward - close enough to make himself distinguishable to John in the dim light.
It was the man who had been leering at the girls in that photo - only here, he wasn't wearing any clothes, and was glistening in a bloody sheen over his entire body!
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John starts shaking. This is really not good, and he doesn't do well with 'not good.'
"Let us go. This is insane." John says, trying to think of some way to get off the handcuff.
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"He must be into guys, haha!" the girl blocking the door laughed.
"Perhaps," the naked man answered with a twisted grin; "Unfortunately for him, I am not..."
'Thank God for that,' John thought instinctively, not wanting to experience feelings like that again - let alone for some subway dwelling whatever-the-fark-he-was!
Then answering John, the man replied coldly, "No, I won't be letting her go. She is mine now. My lovely bride in blood."
"But you can go... if you like, hahahahaha!"
As the naked fiend laughed, the girl in the doorway stepped aside - as if ushering John out of the train.
"Time to run now, old man. Go!" She said, "Go!"
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"Yeah, uh..." John starts, letting Tiffany down from his arms.
"That's not really gonna happen." He says, preferably picking up some broken pipe and attacking the bastard (though if there isn't one he'll attack barehanded).
-
Sifting his hand through the garbage-strewn floor of the subway car, John found something that he could use to defend himself from the crazed maniac advancing on him.
It was a rusty tire iron.
John hoped that he could crack the bastard in the head with it – maybe he could knock him out – and then intimidate the girl into leaving, so he could search for a key and get Tiffany the hell out of here!
Unfortunately, the naked man was less than cooperative.
Easily dodging John’s wide-arching swings, the man’s eyes flashed red – and with a feral snarl – he ducked in. Before John knew it, he was upended, on the ground, and in a grapple.
'Were those fangs?!?' John’s mind reeled – as he felt the guy biting into his neck. 'Son-of-a… Oh! …'
"Dude, you’re lunch, haha!" the girl by the door taunted.
John could feel the blood in his body flowing out through the wound in his neck. The lunatic had John in a tight embrace and was drinking deeply from the bite. It was… pure ecstasy!
John had never felt such an amazing high! It was like sexual climax a hundred fold; and completely engulfed John’s senses! He closed his eyes and found himself lost in it for a few moments – until horrid screaming abruptly tore him back to reality.
Woozy from the loss of so much blood, John struggled to open his eyes, and thought he could see a strange golden light radiating from the side of his neck. Looking at his attacker, John saw the same light – in liquid form – all over the man’s mouth and chin. His blood? His blood was glowing?!? The guy was grabbing his throat, as if choking, and screaming in unfeigned agony!
The veins in the man’s head, neck, and chest stood out taught – filled with golden light – spreading into his torso, arms, and legs. They grew brighter and brighter, until John could smell the stench of burning flesh! Then the man abruptly burst into flames – spontaneously combusting right before John’s eyes!
The inhuman thing staggered back – convulsing horribly, as magnesium-white fire consumed it quickly –crumbling the remains to the floor in a pile of something akin to charred earth!
The girl by the door meanwhile, shrieked in recoiling horror at the gruesome display. When her legs finally caught up with her brain, she turned and fled as fast as she could, into the darkness of the subway tunnel and beyond.
Completely astonished by all this, John wiped the side of his neck with his hand and brought it up to his face. Sure enough, for a few moments, his blood shined through the darkness with the luster of pure gold! Then all the light faded away – leaving John’s hand just plain bloody. Feeling his neck once again, John discovered that he had two deep puncture marks, where the – whatever it was – had bit him.
Instinctively, John tried to stand, but was too dizzy to keep his feet. Slumping down into a chair next to the still handcuffed and unconscious Tiffany, he tried to get his bearings back. As soon as he felt up to it, he would start searching for the key.
As John sat there, a column of warm light began to shine down on him from above. Looking up, John witnessed the ceiling of the subway car seem to roll itself open, like two halves of a scroll. Beyond the part, John could see a heavenly portal of some kind!
A woman with golden wings of light and a fiery burning halo descended out of the portal, until her bare feet stood on the floor in front of John. She was dressed in celestial white robes with a red sash over one shoulder and what looked like a sling wrapped around her waist.
She was comely, but not overly so, a brunette, and spoke with a calm soothing voice.
"John, I am the Angel Serapheen," she said.
"I am here to help you understand things. And in so doing, have blessed you with a new calling from on high."
As she spoke, the portal above closed and the light faded, along with her wings and halo – though her glorious celestial robes continued to illuminate the interior of the subway car, by virtue of their stunning white radiance. Aside from that however, and being bare-footed, the woman now looked like a normal human being.
"Your wounds," she asked, "may I help you with them?"
-
"Uh, what? Oh, uh,. Her too. Her first." John says, breathlessly.
"What, uh, what was that?"
-
"She is not injured," Sarapheen replied, looking sympathetically at Tiffany - "She has been drugged."
Taking the red sash from her robes, she wrapped it around Tiffany's shoulders, to cover the girl's exposed chest.
"And the blood is not hers," she continued, "It belongs to the Daeva."
"Vampires do that you know. They force some of their victims to drink their blood, which forms a perverse bond between the two. Tiffany has partaken of his blood once, which is bad enough, but had she drank of it thrice - she would have been lost completely, under the vampire's control."
"You saw the other girl," she then explained, "she is what the vampires refer to as a 'ghoul' - one who is dependent on the blood bond and used as a slave. They do the master's bidding and watch over them as they sleep during the day. The blood also grants them a fraction of the master's vampiric powers."
"The Daeva took Tiffany, to make himself another ghoul."
As she spoke, the Angel turned to look into the back recesses of the subway car. There, a ratty old mattress and some boxes of clothing sat among the refuse.
She went and lifted the corner of the mattress, to pull a small key out from under it.
Handing the key to John - it was the key to the handcuffs - she allowed power of some kind to go out of her, as their hands briefly touched. John felt immediately refreshed by it; and found his senses returning back to him fully.
"Unfortunately," Sarapheen went on, "Tiffany needs to remain drugged for now. She is no longer in danger and will come out of it on her own."
"I do not wish to 'complicate' her life any further, by having her see me."
"Take her to the warehouse above and call the police from the phone in the loading area. It is still physically connected and can be used to dial 911. I will walk with you there, to provide the light. When they arrive, bring them down here, to show them where you found her."
-
"I, uh, I guess so." John says, standing back up.
"So I shouldn't tell her what happened?" John asks. "The police should know that there are vampires in the underground, no?"
He heads over to unlock Tiffanies handcuffs.
-
"You seem to be taking this all in good stride, " Sarapheen commented, looking at John as if contemplating some interesting painting at a gallery; "I think most people would practically be made of questions by this point."
"As for Tiffany, no."
"That goes for the police too."
"Tell the truth. Just omit the part about the Satan-worshiping vampire sucking you dry and your subsequent communication with the divine. And let Tiffany tell her own story."
"Unless you want to be deemed mad, John."
"Besides, the police are best, not led to the slaughter, chasing after the immortal. Those Police that would even believe your account, would be the ones to fear - for the vampires have ghoul spies in all levels of humanity."
"But there are much worse things walking the shadows of this fallen world than vampires."
-
"I just wanna get out of here. Today has been hectic enough." John replies.
"Besides, it's not like you're gonna disappear right? I can just ask questions later."
-
"Well, yes actually," Sarapheen answered John, "I can't stay, once you have called the police, and it will be a long day for you following that."
"So, do you have any questions now?"
"Or would you like me to just fill you in on the 'whys and wherefores' as we walk?"
-
John picks up Tiffany.
"Alright, so, vampires are real, and you're an angel? What else?"
-
“Um, yeah… about that,” Sarapheen replied a bit sheepishly, “I may have inadvertently stepped on your free agency, just a tad.”
She held her thumb and forefinger close together to illustrate how much of a ‘tad’.
“I wanted to extend to you a calling, to serve as my Disciple,” she then explained, “which under normal circumstances, you would be free to accept or decline.”
“But… I sort of had to make that decision for you… to save you from the vampire.”
“You see,” Saraphen continued, “vampires cannot drink the blood of the Supernal – to them it is like liquid sunshine – which as most people know, is highly detrimental to a vampire’s wellbeing.”
“When I arrived, I saw that the Daeva had already gotten you in its teeth, so I translated you. I made you my Disciple to save you – albeit without your permission.”
“For this I apologize.”
Sarapheen bowed her head penitently for a moment, before continuing.
“You are a Disciple now; though you still have the freedom of choice, to serve me, or to go your own way.”
“I must warn you however, that in giving you the power of a Disciple, I have placed a huge target on your back. Infernal demons will seek you out and try to corrupt you – and they are immortal, never sleep, and are always scheming humanity’s ruin.”
“These are they, that even the vampires know to avoid.”
“This is why I sought you out to become one of my Disciples John. That you help me purge the world of these demonic influences. To fight that battle in places I cannot go."
“If you accept me as your mentor, you shall receive the knowledge to control the power that I have given you from on high - necessary to the fulfilling of the calling itself.”
“You shall see the world as it truly is - the veil of man's ignorance forever cast from your eyes.”
“That choice at least, is still yours alone to make."
-
"Ha ha, I appreciate the saving." John says, waving it off.
"What do you mean, serve you? What'd it mean?"
-
"John, you are one of the few mortals who can take upon you the calling of Disciple." Sarapheen answered.
"As such, serving me, would mean accepting the responsibilities that come with the change I have made in you and the powers that such a change entails. It means that you would step into a battle between good and evil - under my wing, so to speak."
"You would face demons and sunder their carefully laid snares - protecting mankind from the shackles of their damning machinations. Some of these demons (and their servants) will not be easily undone."
"It is a challenging calling to fulfill John; but should you endure it faithfully, you will one day surpass this fallen world and Ascend, even as I have, becoming an Angel yourself."
-
"I'm not much of a fighter." John says with a strained laugh. "As you could uh, tell."
-
"I do not require someone who can fight with their hands, John," Sarapheen answered. "You're strength lies in what you can do with the Angelic power that I have already bestowed upon you. It is a power that you must learn to control and use only for good."
"Without me to help mentor the development of this power, there will be great temptations to use it for your own ends - which will corrupt your soul and give you over to the influences of the Infernal."
"In fact, if you do decide to go it on your own, the Infernal will seek you out and offer to instruct you in the use of these powers themselves."
"Me, or someone else, there will be no shortage of teachers willing to 'help' mold the power you now possess."
"The question then, is not whether to serve me as my Disciple or not; it is 'will you choose good or evil?'"
Sarapheen then walked with John, as he carried Tiffany up the old subway stairs and in through the excavated tunnel to the electrical access panel under the warehouse. From here, it would only be a short walk to the ladder and then up into the warehouse itself.
"So," the angel asked, breaking the silence of John's thoughts over the matter, "Do you have enough information to decide?"
"Will you accept the calling to become my Disciple?"
-
John nods.
"That infernal vampire thing was a nasty piece of work. Not gonna side with anything that preys on kids, even if they are ridiculously stupid."
"So yeah. Sign me up."
-
"Excellent. I'm very glad to hear that John," Sarapheen replied with a smile - relieved that she wasn't going to have to leave such a loose cannon, as an unbound Disciple, in the fallen world.
'I'll have to work on my timing better next time,' she mentally scolded herself, 'I really could have ruined the poor man's life, had he not accepted. Probably would have been better just to let him die and wait for another viable Adherent, had that been the case, but there were three lives at stake. Right decision, poor execution.'
When they had arrived at the ladder, Sarapheen held out her arms to take Tiffany.
"You go up ahead," she explained, "I will carry the girl. It will be tiring enough for you to climb so far; I wouldn't want her accidently dropped down the shaft."
Acquiescing, John placed Tiffany in Sarapheen's arms and began up the ladder.
Sarapheen followed, floating up the shaft with her golden wings of light outstretched and her fiery burning halo visible once again.
At the top, John climbed out of the shaft and watched Sarapheen rise up from below, amid radiant surrounding light.
She then handed Tiffany back to John and said, "I must go now."
John noted that the blood on Tiffany (and himself) did not seem to transfer to Sarapheen's celestial robes.
"I will come to you again later, after you have returned to your home in Connecticut," the Angel explained; "In the meantime, I want you to choose a place that we can meet over the next few weeks, for regular private discussions - for I have much to show you John."
At that, John saw the dark ceiling of the warehouse above, roll opened like a scroll - revealing the pure white portal of mist beyond.
Ascending upwards, Sarapheen disappeared into the portal, and it closed - Leaving John alone in the once gain dark printing factory warehouse, with the still unconscious teenager Tiffany, in his arms.
-
The next several weeks were spent meeting regularly with Sarapheen, at the place John had chosen, and what Sarapheen began to refer to as John's 'School of Enlightenment'.
There, she formally taught him the true nature of reality (Cosmology (http://www.bountyheadbebop.com/forum/index.php?topic=1828.0)), and the Lingua Intelligentia - or Language of Intelligence.
The premise of Lingua Intelligentia, was that all Matter and Ephemera, at its subatomic level, was made of Pure Intelligence. Using the Lingua Intelligentia, one could speak to the intellect of anything on this level, in order to instruct or direct it.
Sarapheen explained that Matter and Ephemera adamantly obeyed the 'High Laws', acting only as they had been commanded to act by Creation (a rock remained a rock, subject to Natural Laws, no matter what for example) - but using Lingua Intelligentia, and enough of one's will, one could command the rock (overriding the High Law) to become gold, explode violently, or even come to life.
It was this language, and the supernal knowledge that went along with it, that formed the basis of all Angelic Magic. And it was the fundamentals of this magic (Casting Reference (http://www.bountyheadbebop.com/forum/index.php?topic=1802.0)) that Sarapheen taught John, explaining that it would be integral to his work against the Infernal as a new Disciple.
Sarapheen also went on to explain, that as a new Disciple, John was now foreordained to one day surpass mortality and become an Angel himself - called as a Spirit Warden. That wouldn't happen however, unless John perfected his current calling of Disciple first - and that wasn't something one could simply do overnight.
To help him better understand his destiny, John was introduced to the Spirit Warden, Morrow Wind – who instructed him in all the areas that Sarapheen could not.
Apparently, there were five types of Angels, each with its own strengths and Supernal Calling (Disciple Creation Guide (http://www.bountyheadbebop.com/forum/index.php?topic=1863.0)).
Sarapheen was a Ministering Angel and also known as a Ward. As such, she watched over a Ministry, encompassing a defined geographical area, and monitored the levels of Infernal Influence therein. When the Infernal Influence in her Ministry overstepped a certain level, she would send her Disciples to 'deal' with it.
(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v651/BerkaZerka/Mythos/3_Regions_zpsm8pawhyp.jpg)
Sarapheen's Ministry covered the entire east coast of the United States, known as the North America Region East - everything east of the borders of Ohio, Kentucky, Tennessee, and Alabama.
There were four other Ministries that covered the rest of North America.
The Avenging Angel Jarome, was Ward of the North America Region West - everything west of the borders of Minnesota, Iowa, Nebraska, Kansas, Oklahoma, Arizona, and Louisiana.
The Guardian Angel Rebecca, was Ward of the North America Region Central - everything in between the West and East Regions.
The Spirit Warden Morrow Wind, was Ward of the North America Region North - Everything north of the United States/Canadian border.
The Angel of Death Yoz, was Ward of the North America Region South - everything from Mexico on down through Panama.
Of course, there were Regions like these all over the world, each with its own Angelic Ward and handful of mortal Disciples to keep the machinations of the Infernal at bay. Their work was not to stop evil itself, but to ensure the freedom of mankind to choose between good and evil - of their own agency - which was something one lost when they sold away their souls for the corrupting power of the Infernal.
It was these Witches and Sorcerers, and the occasional Demon itself, that the Wards sought out, and the Disciples went forth to destroy. For they sought to enslave mankind, by employing a corrupted version of Lingua Intelligentia, known among the demonic, as Wormwood.
Finally, Sarapheen explained that she had recently called four other Disciples, in addition to John, and that once everyone was well grounded in the practice of Angelic Magic, they would all meet...
End of Prolog