Wars of Heaven and Hell, Vampyre.

[Knife]

The Wars of Heaven and Hell
Vampyre



October 27 312AD
Tiber River, 10 miles outside Rome.


The long line of the Roman army spilled into the valley floor as the sun began to set in the western sky. The loud thrum of the steady stride of troopers echoed across the land and was accented by the chime of metal armor in motion.

The army marched to the center of the valley and then halted. Quickly organizing itself in such a way that only a Roman Legion could, the men a thousand strong, set up camp for the night. They were edgy, having expected combat at any moment, but it seemed the enemy did not wish to engage them just yet. So after a long day of marching, then men of the Roman army set up camp and small cooking fires sprung up around the valley. The soft buzz of conversation spread through the camp and the wine skins followed.

The men would not indulge too much but it was the Roman prerogative to taste a little wine after a long march. Not a drop, however, would touch the lips of the pickets or sentries who spread out to guard the perimeter of the camp. One small knot of men lingered in the camp for awhile, moving from cooking fire to cooking fire and stopping just long enough to converse briefly with the men there. The leader of the three men was decidedly Roman in cloth and appearance, but his manner was that of reserved modesty, if one can say such a thing about a Roman. He made a point to greet and converse with all the men he met.

Wandering as such, the three men soon veered toward the edge of the camp where a small rise marked the end of the valley. The leader instructed his two guards to give him leave and moved to the top of the tiny hill. From its summit he could now see the valley stretched out in front of him. In the fading distance, he could make out the thin silvery line that was the Tiber River as it caught the last of the sunlight. The river flowed out of the valley and disappeared from sight as it passed beyond the horizon. This pristine view of the river was marred only by the block like form of the Milvian Bridge some leagues to his south.

The man pondered as to why his enemy did not strike as he and his men traveled the small valleys leading here. He was expecting battle for two days now but it seemed Maxentius had other plans in mind.

Now, standing on the small rise, the young leader could see at least a part of his enemy’s plan. The stone bridge would be the only place to cross the river for leagues and leagues. He saw no indication of the enemy near the bridge but felt certain he was there.

He was confused by a lot of moves that the Caesar Maxentius had made. Oh, he understood the blatant move for power. That was easy to comprehend, but some of the things Maxentius had done to gain those ends made little sense and went against what he knew of the Caesar and how he went about things. It was almost as if someone else was making the decisions for Maxentius but for what dark purpose he did not know.

A noise distracted him from his contemplation, a sharp crack that did not match anything he could think of. He moved back down the hill and found a most shocking sight. His two guards lay upon the ground in most unnatural positions, their limbs broken and twisted in such a way as to give little doubt as to whether they still lived.

The man attempted to scream but his tongue stuck in his throat. He glanced down and was relieved that he had brought his Gladius and his hand went to the hilt. He frowned as he lamented his choice not to wear his armor but had little time for regrets. Whatever killed his guards might still be here. Even more disturbing, it had done so while he stood not a hundred paces off and he had never heard a noise or call of warning.

He glanced about the small clearing around him at the base of the rise. Shadow cloaked all as night fell. Off in the distance he could hear the murmur of his camp but no matter how hard he tried to raise the alarm, he could not. A sense of fear overcame him and although he was a brave man, the powerful waves of fear stifled his urge to call out to his followers.

He was bewitched, he realized. Some dark power was preventing him from finding aid. Truly, he thought, whatever assassin was out there in the dark had come here for him and not his guards. He scanned the clearing again as he edged closer toward the safety of his army.

He was near the other side of the clearing when he caught a glimpse of a shadow moving swiftly in the dark. Down from the top of the small hill it swept until it rose up right in front of him. He froze, fear welling up inside him. His now useless grip on the hilt of his sword slackened and fell away as the monster stood before him. And monster it was, the hideous form was clear in the soft moon light.

Dark and twisted, it was a mockery of the shape and form of man. Its putrid yellow eyes gleaming from its ruined face as its leathery body started to circle the now doomed man. This was a thing of evil.

The man stood frozen by the beast’s power, he waited there to die as the demon slowly circled him. It was toying with him, he realized, playing with its prey. The monster hissed and spat as it circled, ever so slowly closing in on him. Its clawed hands spread out in a show of power.

It paused then, its head bent slightly up into the wind as if it sensed something. Suddenly, as it hissed in rage, it lurched up and tried to run across the clearing from whence it came but there was a loud crack and the creature seemed to have been thrown back. It screamed out as an arrow sunk down into its black hide.

The Roman was himself thrown back, but quickly scrambled to his feet. Whatever dark power had held him was gone, the demon’s attention being diverted elsewhere.

From the dark of the night came a series of deep thrums and moments later four more arrows appeared and lodged into the evil monster. In pain, the creature hissed and spat, scurrying around the clearing trying to find a route of escape.

Another series of thrums, the man now recognized as bow strings, sounded and the creature was hit by another volley of arrows and thrown to the ground.

Out of the dark, four men in dark cloaks appeared, they ran for the creature with spears in their hands. For the briefest moment, the man thought the newcomers were more demons until they converged upon and assaulted the wounded and dying devil in the middle of the clearing. The four surrounded it and lanced it with their weapons until the monster lay upon the earth unmoving.

The Roman stood there, watching as wisps of smoke rose from the creature that had come so close to killing him. He watched as the four men finished their grizzly task and then seemed to notice him for the first time. Three stayed with the corpse but the fourth walked toward him. As he approached, he drew his hood away from his face and the moonlight exposed his features. The Roman recognized the Celtic tattoos that covered large portions of his face and knew this man was from nowhere around here.

The leader of the small group came up to the Roman General, gave a slight bow and spoke, “We must leave quickly, my lord. There are more dangerous things in these valleys than the Malum Nox tonight.”

When the Roman did not move the stranger placed his hand upon his shoulder in a show of friendship and calmly said, “Come Constantine, we must go to the safety of your camp.”

[SpecWar826]

Interesting you certainly have my interest.

[Gandalf]

Wow, that is something.

Write on!

[Knife]

Wow, that is something.

Write on!

Oh, its written.

[Gandalf]

Wow, that is something.

Write on!

Oh, its written.

Good to hear.

[Crazedwraith]

Wow, that is something.

Write on!

Oh, its written.

Then post it!

[Crown]

Constantine!!!

Okay, so some people got it earlier ... give yourselves a medal!

Oh and I like this!

[Knife]

Chapter 2



Present Day
Camden.
London, England.

Faith walked out of the Goth club just off of Camden High Street, the harsh beat of the music spilling out of the doorway as she left. She stood for a moment and shuddered, although she could not decide if it was from the chill bite of the air or the uncomfortable situation she had just left.

It was not the first time she had given company to the friend of what ever helpless man Lydia had chosen to play with. Lydia, her friend for almost as long as Faith had been in England, liked to play with her prey. That is what Lydia liked to call her prospective lover for the night. Faith was not as direct as her friend and usually ended up with whatever dreg came with Lydia’s prey. Faith was fed up with both her friend and the slimy duo Lydia had hooked up with for the night and so decided to leave. Lydia could look after herself.

So now, outside, Faith pulled her black mini-skirt down as far as she dared and noticed the tear in her fishnet stockings. What a creep, she thought as she remembered the nasty little man’s hands all over her and shuddered again. She buttoned up the leather trench coat she was wearing, for warmth and to cover herself from the prying eyes of the slime of the Earth, namely men.

Sighing, Faith started the long trek home. She did not feel like making the journey down Camden High Street so decided instead to cut across the by streets and alleys on her way to the bus station.

This was an old part of London. The streets and buildings had the feel of old Hollywood monster movies seen in her youth, before she moved to the Kingdom. The old brick, wet from the English weather, for it seemed to always rain here, and everything had an old feel to it. If you disregarded all the signs of the club and other businesses or paid little attention to the modern cars driving around, one could imagine they were still in Victorian times.

Faith quickly made her way through the labyrinth of streets on her way to the bus station to get back home across the river. Dark hair and clothing made her a shadow moving through the night. She avoided the streets with the crowds of club goers, not feeling like being gawked at or molested and instead sought the solitude of the empty alleyways.

She was in one such alleyway between two ancient buildings when an unreasonable fear struck her. It struck her without reason or purpose and Faith could not keep walking. The fear welled up in her and she felt her chest tighten. Her breath came in terrified gasps as she looked around the dark alleyway, franticly searching for whatever it was that was inspiring such paranoia.

Then, from out of a dark passageway emerged three shadows and Faith could sparsely breathe. The terror gripped her and she watched in horror as three forms approached.

Two of the forms stopped shy of her, still wrapped in the shadow of the alleyway. The third stepped up to face her. Faith tried desperately to run, but her legs would not obey, and all she could do was stand there and stare in horror at what was happening.

The man in front of her looked like any number of men she might have met here on the Goth scene. Tall and thin with the pasty white skin of one who avoided the sun. He was dressed in black leather that was popular here and in this he looked normal. But his eyes were anything but normal. They peered at Faith with an evil intensity that made them burn red. It was an effect no novelty store contacts could copy. Faith did not know what this thing was, but she knew instantly it was not human.

The evil looking man came right up to her and hissed menacingly. Frozen there she waited to die. The two dark forms behind the evil thing spat in pleasure at Faith’s terror. She could now make out the dark forms in the shadow. If in front of her was a demon in a man’s skin, the two behind him did not bother with the facade.

The leader reached out and grabbed Faith by the throat. With unnatural strength, the monster lifted her into the air and his evil glare sized her up like a piece of meat. Faith knew her time on this earth had ended and hoped whatever or whoever lay beyond, these monstrosities would not be among them.

Her killer twisted his hand to bare her neck and Faith could see down the alleyway from where she came. She was startled to see a man standing there. From somewhere inside herself, Faith found the strength to fight against the terror and fear that gripped her, and as tears spilled from her eyes she cried for help.

She did not know if her call for help was a scream or a whisper for all she could hear was the pounding of her heart but the man seemed to hear her plea. He strode into the alleyway, seemingly unafraid or unaffected by the demons. Faith’s neck was still bare but the monster paused as the man walked deliberately towards them. She could not make out any features; just that he was a large man with clothing as dark as the shadows around him.

He was only perhaps ten meters away when his arm disappeared into his jacket and reappeared with the largest gun Faith had ever seen. The weapon was enormous and caught glints of light on its silvery surface. The man wielding it did not slacken his stride but instead came directly at the monster holding Faith.

Faith heard a loud crack as the weapon fired and a clunk-clunk sound as the weapon readied itself to fire again. Crack-crack the gun fired again, and again.

The creatures hissed and roared in rage and the evil man holding Faith tried to swing her around to cover himself with her body. But his tactic was too late.

The man’s aim found its mark and Faith’s assailant’s head exploded in blood and gore as the bullets tore through it, covering Faith with filth. The body seemed to live for a second longer, and then collapsed, releasing Faith and dropping her to the ground.

She could not see what happened next but she could hear a hail of gunfire and the anguished screams of the dark and twisted creatures that had accompanied the evil man. Faith laid there upon the ground with the sickly gore covering her, the terror of the demons had passed.

It grew quiet in the alleyway. Lifting her head, Faith saw the boots of four people standing in front of her. She looked up and saw a kind man’s face looking down on her. He was middle aged, perhaps old enough to be her father and in this way he gave Faith reassurance and comfort after such an ordeal.

The kind man reached down and offered her a hand; she took it and rose to her feet. She saw the others now. Two more men and a woman. The two men wore some sort of special goggles; the kind military people wear to see in the dark. The woman stood next to the man who had saved Faith. She was a tough looking, dark skinned woman, a scowl on her face. All were dressed similarly and all carried weapons of a sort Faith had never seen before. The man with his large chrome pistol, and the others with machine-like pistols that looked like they belonged in an American action movie.

The kind man who saved Faith turned to his companions and spoke in a soft but commanding voice, “Sanchez, take the girl to our ride and keep an eye on her.”

The tough female responded with surprise and a trace of disgust, “We’re taking her with us?”

Quiet rumbles of surprise drifted from the two men in the back, “That’s a new one.” One said.

“You have your orders, let’s get out of here.” The man commanded and his people started to move.

The harsh woman named Sanchez grabbed Faith and pulled her down and out of the alley. Faith spun around at the end of the way, it had just dawned her that she had not seen the bodies of the three beings that tried to kill her. Staring down the alley, Faith saw three smoldering lumps. A slight glow came off of the one that had grabbed her and gave off a pale light in the dark. Small ripples of blue fire could be seen skittering across its ruined corpse.

The fatherly man that saved her brought up the rear and urged her to keep going, “There is nothing back there for you. Quickly now, we must go. I’ll explain later.”

And so the five left the alley and disappeared into the night.

Three blocks away, on the roof of a near by building, a dark presence sat observing the happenings in the alleyway. A female shape wrapped in darkness stared at where only moments ago her prey had vanished into the night.

The demoness felt disgust. Whether at her minions who failed to accomplish their task or at the insolent mortals, she did not know. Her master would not like this new development. Oh, no. He would not like it at all.

But even still, sitting there while her minions were destroyed by the humans, something deep down in her black heart stirred. A hint of recognition echoed. She quickly buried the emotion and moved off quietly in the night.

[Gandalf]

Another good one.

[Crazedwraith]

Kewl.

[Knife]

Chapter 3



Kings Cross Rail Yards
London, England.

The tan colored, beat up Land Rover drove over the dusty road in the rail yard. There was little activity in the yard at this early hour, and the vehicle drove unobserved through the labyrinth of tracks and trains until it arrived at a small dock house in the back corner of the yard.

Quickly, John Morris got his team out of the truck and into their temporary base. The middle aged man issued quiet orders to his team and they carried them out without a word.

Sanchez brought Faith into the base and sat her down on a small cot next to a table of equipment in the main hall of the dock house. Here, Faith could observe the group as they hustled here and there following the orders of their leader.

A young man, named Sphen, came over and offered her medical aide. Faith declined, as far as she could tell she was unharmed, he then offered her some warm food and coffee. So with a cup of dark, strong coffee she observed her saviors.

“Good to see you back, boss.” Said a thin man sitting at a table strewn with computers and pieces of strange equipment.

“Good to be back, Cutter. Did you get us our exit window?” Asked the leader.

“But of course, Moi Captain.” Chided the computer man.

“Good, I want you to start packing after one more thing.” Then he leaned over and whispered something in the computer man’s ear while handed him Faith’s purse.

Faith saw John give the computer man her purse as the others started packing the gear laying around the room.

“What about her, John?” Asked the rough voice of Sanchez

John gave a sympathetic look to Sanchez, “She’s going with us.” He stated.

This drew a series of comments from the group, ranging from surprised question to an almost angry response.

Faith herself did not like the prospect. She was grateful these people saved her from whatever those things were, but she had no intention of leaving her friends or what little family she had left here in London.

John sighed, “She’s coming with us until I know why they wanted to kill her.”

“Easy, a meal.” Someone said in the back of the room.

“A meal, huh? Let me ask you this, how many vamps did you see back there?” He said and gestured in the general direction of the alleyway some five miles away.

The group mumbled a bit and Sanchez finally spoke for them, “I saw three. The Reaper and the two Mallum Nox. Why?”

John became deadly serious; his usually kind countenance lost all emotion. “Because I saw four. There was another Reaper up on the roof top watching. Those three in the alley, I do not think they were there to feed.” He said and gestured at Faith.

“That was not a normal stalking.” He continued, facing his team. “Why didn’t that Reaper just kill her or why not let the Malum Nox tear her to pieces if they were only feeding? Did you see how he studied her face? I think they were making sure they had the right girl.”

Sphen stepped forward and said, “That’s ridiculous. What would the Illuminati want with this girl?”

John shrugged and replied, “I don’t know, but I plan to find out. Cutter? Any thing?”

Cutter was typing rapidly on his keyboard, “I’m on it boss. Wait a minute. Ok, here we go. Faith Hamilton. Age, twenty. Hair, blonde…”

The occupants of the room glanced over at Faith and she could feel their stares at her dark hair with its purple streaks. “Well, probably blonde under all that.” Smirked Cutter.

He turned back around and scanned his screen, “Um, lets see. Ok. Five foot eight and weighs in a-”

“Hey. Don’t you dare!” Yelled Faith from the far side of the room, finally having to courage to speak to this motley group.

“Yeah, ok.” Chuckled Cutter and Faith was annoyed to see the room erupt in laughter.

“Born American. Moved to England some ten years ago.” His voice softened somewhat so John moved behind him to read over his shoulder.

“Parents killed shortly after arriving. Some kind of auto accident. Um, foster parents and address. Only one blood relative listed. Blah, blah, blah. Sorry boss. I don’t see much in there that would make her a threat to the Illuminati.”

Faith was distressed that strangers already knew so much about her. “How did you find that all out if just a few minutes?” She asked.

Cutter, leaning back in his chair and locking his fingers behind his head in a smug gesture replied, “Modern technology my dear, modern technology.”

Faith glanced around her. “Who are you people?” She asked.

John knelt down beside her. “We are hunters. Hunters of those creatures that attacked you tonight. I would say that you have never heard of us before tonight but then again you have probably never heard of those creature either.”

His face was kind again, caring and very fatherly. “We need your help Faith. We need to find out why they attacked you so we can stop them before they attack again.”

“What exactly are those, those, things?” Faith stumbled over the words as she remembered the demons.

John sighed and shrugged his shoulders, “Basically, they are Vampires. Vampyres. The Undead. Or any other way you want to put it. Demons really.”

John saw the look of disbelief and sighed again, “You are going to have to make up your own mind. But remember what your own eyes saw back there. Demons walk this earth Faith, and have since the dawn of time. Since then, there have been a few that have waged war with them.” He gestured around the room.

“Some are mindless monsters, others are devious creatures. They are highly organized and hard to kill. They feed on humanity but for some, the Illuminati, the Masters, feeding is not enough. Power is their goal. For ages they have conspired to conquer man and his civilization. The Vanguard stands in their way and we endeavor to continue to do so.”

He reached up and softly placed his hand on her cheek. “Can you tell us anything? Anything at all.”

Faith looked into John’s soft blue eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why those things wanted to kill me.” She said and a tear fell from her cheek.

“Its ok, Faith. Think back. Was there anything going on in the club?” John asked. She shook her head no.

“Any strange men around you?” He asked.

“Only you guys.” She said and smiled weakly.

“What about your family? How did your parents die? What about your relative in the States? Do you know him?”

“I used to see Uncle Tom all the time when I was younger. But he’s in the US. He is a priest in California or something. My parents, my real parents, died in a car accident. I am sorry.” Tears slipped down her face, all the emotion of the harrowing night and the added weight of talking about her parent’s death overwhelmed her.

John held her and let her cry as he glanced over his shoulder at Cutter. Cutter caught the look and started typing away at his computer again.

Faith was still sobbing on his shoulder when Cutter quietly motioned at him. “Tom O’Neil, Catholic priest. Just transferred to the St. Patrick’s Cathedral in New York.”

Sanchez, who had been quietly watching now interrupted, “That’s where the council thinks the Church stashed the Book after they moved it from the Vatican a couple hundred years ago.”

“I think we have our lead.” Said John, pulling Faith up off his shoulder. “Will you come with us to New York to see your uncle?” He asked her in his calm, kind voice.

John watched Faith wipe the tears from her eyes and compose herself, she nodded agreement. “Sanchez, Cutter. Pack up. We are headed for New York.” John ordered.

[Crazedwraith]

Kewl! There's a guy named Cutter! Thats my secind name! I like being in fanfics even by pure conicidence.

This stories coming along nicely.

[Knife]

Chapter 4



New York City, United States.

It was nightfall when the private jet landed at LaGuardia International Airport having flown all day from London. The Beech Jet taxied to the private terminal and Jessica strode off the plane and through the building.

The dark, beautiful creature refrained from exerting her full power on the mortals in the terminal. Instead, she lightly touched each of their minds. Just a small caress ensuring that if any remembered her after her passing they would only recall a pale, dark haired woman in European black leather.

It is possible one or two may retain the image of her face, strong and eternally beautiful with steely cold blue eyes, but she doubted it. It was her experience that mortal men would only remember her shapely form, for that is what they lusted for. The mortals would long for her female shell but the dark creature inside Jessica lusted after something different, the blood and the life of the men staring at her.

With a touch of regret, she hardened herself against the thirst welling up inside her. Her task was to report to her master, for he felt her arrival, and she felt his call. Outside, a car awaited her, and she gracefully entered it and settled herself as it sped off into the night. Through tinted windows, Jessica could see the towering buildings of Manhattan reaching into the sky.

She sat in silence as the car sped over the Brooklyn Bridge and on into the city. The car pulled up to a building in Greenwich Village and Jessica swept into it, caring as little for the mortals along her path as for those in the airport earlier.

She rode the elevator to the top floor then strode down the hall to her destination. She entered the apartment, her nocturnal vision unable to penetrate the utter darkness. Even though she could not penetrate the dark with her sight, she could feel the presence of her master.

“Welcome, Lady Jessica.” Boomed a deep voice in the dark. “All goes as I planned?”

Jessica knelt in the dark room, “No my lord. My minions were destroyed by the human hunters. The girl left with them.”

Though Jessica could not see his face, she could feel his displeasure. “It is of little matter.” Boomed the baritone voice, “The whelp was a loose end to tie up. Two days from now, when I am inducted into the order off the Praetorian, she will be irrelevant.”

In the dark, Jessica heard her master swivel around in a chair, then the faint click, click of a keyboard. Her master, though ancient, had an affinity for some modern devices.

A sudden light clicked on and Jessica averted her eyes. She stayed, in the now lightly dimmed room, kneeling in respect for her master, her head bowed. The soft light was from a computer monitor and it gave Jessica a better view of the room.

It was a sparsely, yet richly decorated apartment. The few pieces of furniture in the room looked old. The ancient looking desk her master sat at made the computer on it look out of place.

The computer screen changed to a picture of an exotic woman. The light bronze face was gorgeous, framed with even lighter bronze hair that flowed like honey. But if the face was a picture of beauty, then the eyes betrayed what lay beneath. The sharp and intense blue of the woman’s eyes burned with hatred and power.

“Greetings, Lucifer.” She said with a voice as smooth as her skin.

Jessica’s master, still draped in the shadows of the room peered into the camera mounted on top of the computer. “Ah. My dear Lilith. Your beauty is eternal.”

The creature named Lilith sneered. “How goes our plan. Be’lz and I expected you to contact us later. Do not act hastily.”

It was Jessica’s master’s time to sneer. “Our plan? This is My plan. You and that fool, Be’lz were content hiding in shadows with your talk, talk, talk. Make no mistake, my dear, this is My endeavor.”

Spite poured through the image on the screen. “You are not Samiel, Lucifer. You can not take His place.”

“Do not trouble Me with your delusions, Lilith. Samiel fell when he lost the Book. Now I stand at the threshold of regaining it. It is I, not you, that has suffered this charade for a decade and when My deceit bears fruit, it will be Mine.”

“You can not conquer alone, Lucifer. You and yours are not enough. You need the entire Illuminati if you are to accomplish Samiel’s goal.” Lilith said, gaining her composure and reigning in her hate.

Lucifer sat back in his chair, chuckling. “I would never dream of depriving you of your revenge, my dear colleague. When the time comes our hoards shall cover the Earth and the Grace that is day shall end forever.”

With that, Lucifer reached out, tapped a key and the monitor went dead. “Lady Jessica, the girl is no longer a danger to Me. The hunters, however, are. They will not be far behind you. Go, gather a host and find them; find them and vanquish them.”

Jessica could feel the blood lust well up within her. “Yes, my master.”



The next afternoon across town on the East Side, seven dark clothed people entered a non-descript office building on Second Avenue. They quickly walked up a few flights of stairs and disappeared through a door.

Inside, the office was covered with cabinets and shelves. A series of desks dominated one side and a doorway led into a darkened room, Faith could also see the outline of a bunk bed within.

“Is this your secret base?” She asked Eccles.

Eccles was the fourth member of the tactical team. Faith spent hours sitting beside the sunny, happy man during the flight from England. When he heard Faith’s remark he just smiled.

“The Vanguard has safe houses in every major city in the world. Traveling with guns is difficult to say the least, so we just pick them up at the next stop.” Said Ikeman, the other computer nerd of the outfit. Upon entering the office, Ikeman plopped himself down at a desk and began typing away at his laptop. This was the first time Faith had ever heard him speak.

“Cutter, Ikeman. Set up shop.” John said as he walked into the room. “Faith, I know you haven’t had much rest but if you will just bear with me for an hour more. We will go see your uncle and then we’ll get you back home.”

Sanchez whispered under her breath, “Yeah, one way or another.”

John shot her a dark look and then his face went emotionless. “We want to do this before it gets dark. Saddle up.”

Sanchez, Sphen, and Eccles opened the cabinets against the wall and Faith saw row upon row of weapons stacked within. They seemed the same ones Faith saw the team with in London, but she was far from an expert on the issue.

Shoulder harnesses and holsters were strapped on. The sound of metal chiming on metal could be heard as the soldiers loaded their weapons. Faith saw each member of the team take a shiny, sharp looking knife from a cabinet and some other gear that she did not recognize.

Eccles, seeing Faith’s gaze, walked over and placed his weapon in her small hands. The large pistol was surprisingly light.

“It’s an MP 7 PDW. That’s a Personal Defense Weapon, it fires a 4.6mm round. In this case, silver jacketed. The vamps don’t like silver much. Not much good against humans, but then again, we don’t hunt humans.” He gave her a big boyish grin.

He took his weapon back from her and said, “Now that you know about all of this, you might want to start learning how to use one of these.”

John watched his team gear up before reaching into the weapons locker and taking the chromed .45 match pistol he preferred to the PDW. He checked the sights and then holstered it under his jacket along with a few extra magazines. He then, placed something into his ear and tuned to Cutter.

“Check, check, check.” He said.

Cutter had his computers up and going and turned back to John. “I’ve got you boss. You’re good to go.”

“Good. Stay in contact. If comm. goes down, send a general alert to the Council.” He said and Cutter nodded. “Lets go people.”

[Crazedwraith]

more! More is good!

Is there anyparticular way Chapter 1 relates to the other 3? If so I haven't got it yet, Am I just being thick?

[Knife]

more! More is good!

Is there anyparticular way Chapter 1 relates to the other 3? If so I haven't got it yet, Am I just being thick?

Yes there is. Its called a story arc, you'll just have to wait.

[Knife]

Chapter 5


Fifth Avenue, New York.

The SUV drove down the clean well kept street in the upscale part of town. Faith was told the truck was midsized but it was larger than any private vehicle she had ever seen in England. It was nearly as big as a delivery truck. The four members of the tactical team and Faith herself easily fit inside with room to spare.

They navigated the city streets but the afternoon traffic slowed the team down. By the time the vehicle arrived near East 50th, where the team could see the imposing view of the Saint Patrick’s Cathedral, it was well into late afternoon.

“We must hurry.” Said John as they exited the vehicle and crossed a small park to where the Gothic structure rose up into the sky.

The team climbed the stairs to the main entrance and John motioned for Eccles and Sphen to stand guard at the door. Sanchez and Faith accompanied John into the old church and moved among the throngs of people. John noticed a priest tending the candles off the main isle way and directed his group towards him. Approaching the old priest, John slipped his hand inside his jacket. To his mind, this was enemy territory whether or not the Illuminati had infiltrated it.

“Begging your pardon, father.” Said John when he was almost upon the wispy white haired priest. When the old man looked up at him John continued, “Father, we are looking for a Father O’Neil?”

The old man’s eyes searched the hall for a moment before pointing across the large interior of the church. “Father O’Neil is just finishing his preparation for Mass. He’s over there in the corner.”

All four gazes looked across the room to a middle aged man with striking features. The priest was talking to a knot of tourists on the other side of the pews and John took Faith by the shoulder as she gasped in surprise.

“What is it, Faith?” He said quietly in her ear and the girl tensed.

John held her protectively and with honest compassion he said, “We don’t have much time. If the Illuminati have infiltrated this place, we must leave before dark, and if not, our kind is still not exactly welcome here.”

“T-t-t-that’s not my uncle.” She said, finding her courage.

“Come Faith, we must go.” Was all John said, and then Sanchez led the trio out of the building.

Outside, Eccles and Sphen fell in behind John and Sanchez as they walked quickly down the steps. Their hands reached inside their trench coats and they both looked tense.

“John,” Said Sanchez. “The sun!” A note of worry echoed through her voice.

John looked up and saw the light of the sun being blocked by large skyscrapers to the west, and the immediate area was now under shadow though nightfall was perhaps an hour off.

“Quickly, to the truck.” Ordered John as he turned around for one last glimpse of the Cathedral.

Standing on top of the stairs to the main entry, the man who wasn’t Tom O’Neil stood with an evil smile upon his face. John didn’t know it but a mental signal was sent from the dark creature to his Reapers and even now the hunt was on.

John got his team to the truck and Eccles got the thing going. The truck sprinted up the street away from the church. Men and women were walking here and there as the various workers of the city went home or to other pursuits for the evening. Faith watched the people go by in a haze until Sphen nudged her and pointed out pale skinned people walking in the shadows of the skyscrapers, always watching the truck as it went.

“Reapers.” Sphen said. “Boss, we got to get out of here.”

Eccles shot his friend a dirty look, said, “I’m working on it. God damn these stupid cabs.”

The black truck turned the corner from Fifth Avenue onto 57th street heading away from the park. Eccles rolled the truck up to a side street and as he turned he yelped in surprise. A woman walked right out into the street and stood in front of the on coming vehicle.

The dark haired woman was clothed in a black trench coat and stood unmoving, her intense eyes piercing the men inside the vehicle. Eccels turned hard and the truck went up onto the curb barely missing the mysterious woman.

“Out of the truck. Quick, into the alley. We can’t fight her here in public.” John yelled and the team jumped out of the truck on the opposite side that Jessica now stood.

The dark lady hissed as the five ran down the alleyway and out of sight. John and Sanchez dropped back to protect the rear while Sphen and Eccles charged forward, leaving Faith tucked in between the two groups. All had their weapons out now. Sphen and Eccles with their PDW’s out and the stocks and forward hand grips extended turning the large pistols into submachine guns.

Faith lamented that she had not taken a weapon or even practiced with one as Eccels suggested. As if reading her mind, Eccels spun around and with a rip of Velcro, handed Faith a small pistol.

“It’s a 9mm USP. A smaller version of the boss’s gun.” He flipped a small switch like mechanism at the rear of the gun and handed it to Faith.

“The safety is off and its fully loaded. Keep you finger off the trigger unless something bad happens. If something bad happens, point the gun at it and start pulling the trigger.” His serious tone contrasted with the big goofy smile on his face.

The group raced through the alleyway braced for attack from any angle, when it came, it came from above. Dark, twisted bodies rained down on the party from the rooftops and ladder ways of the surrounding buildings.

Eight wretched forms of Mallum Nox quickly and agilely dropped down and cut off any chance of escape for John and his crew. Eccles and Sphen immediately opened up with their machine pistols and a hail of gun fire threw the lead elements of the ambush back.

John and Sanchez literally tossed Faith behind them as both took careful aim and a second hail of fire cut down those that Eccles and Sphen missed. John fired his big pistol and watched four of the Mallum collapse in a burning heap, but for every twisted creature that the team killed, another appeared.

Sanchez heard a hiss from behind and the small, tough woman spun around and went down on one knee bringing her machine pistol to bear on the approaching Reapers. She let out a long burst, the bright flare of the muzzle flash made it hard to track her targets. Seeing two go down but more coming she yelled over to John.

“We’ve got to fall back.”

John just finished reloading and glanced down the alleyway. Seeing half a dozen Reapers approaching, he called out to Faith and Sanchez, “Fall back towards Eccles, move, move!”

He covered their movement and opened up with his pistol. Standing now, he began walking towards the approaching menace and with every step he fired a well aimed shot at the enemy. When his magazine was out, he hurriedly retreated towards Sanchez who opened up on the Reapers to cover John.

A wave of Reapers flowed into the small alleyway like a flood. A tight group of pale faces and glowing eyes. Two small and agile forms jumped up and over John and Sanchez and landed down where Eccles and Sphen were dealing with the broken forms of the forward Vampyre units.

John didn’t have time to call out in warning. Two Reapers angled towards him and attacked with such swiftness that John didn’t get the chance to aim in on them. One of the Reapers bowled him over and his pistol went skittering across the cement. John rolled with it and came up with his knife in hand.

The Reaper, who thought he was victorious, reared its head back in triumph. Its fangs extended to gorge on Johns flesh. John planted his knife into the chest of the monster; the silver edged knife immediately began burning the vile flesh of the creature. The head that was reared back for victory was now in agony as the silver ate away at it. It screeched and howled until it died.

Sanchez blasted the other monster attacking John before she herself was jumped by the creatures. A Reaper shoved her up against the wall and sunk its fangs into her shoulder. The thick leather of Sanchez’s coat slowed it down but before long a deep red stain of blood was seen soaking through the coat. Sanchez screamed but brought her pistol around to take out another Reaper that was bypassing her and going after Faith.

A quick burst ended its existence but the Vampyre clinging to her shoulder heaved again and Sanchez lost her weapon. Gathering her strength, Sanchez pushed back at the monster and rolled so the creatures back was against the wet brick of the building.

There was a glint of light and a clink of metal and Sanchez pinned the Reaper to the wall with her knife. The sharp edge of the weapon slicing through the cloth and dead flesh of the Vampyre’s shoulder and into the brick itself. The evil creature screamed and Sanchez was free from its grasp.

On the other side of the alley, Eccles and Sphen were wrapping up the twisted forms of the Mallum Nox when two Reapers dropped in on top of them. Eccles heard Faith yell in warning but as he turned around he was thrown back across the alley. Sphen went down hard as the female Reaper landed on top of him and sunk her teeth into his neck. Eccles brought his weapon up to defend his friend but the other Reaper clawed it away tearing into his flesh.

Faith saw Eccles go down and brought her weapon up. She touched the trigger and a small flashlight mounted to the bottom of the gun turned on. She used the light to aim it at the monster but when the soft purple light touched it the creature yelped and jumped away.

Faith tracked the monster with the light until Eccles was clear but now the Reaper was moving towards her, hissing at the painful light. When its gruesome form was almost upon her she pulled back on the trigger and the weapon in her hand kicked. She closed her eyes and continued pulling the trigger until it was spent.

Jessica was euphoric. The sent of blood covered all and the flow of the elixir of life into her mouth was ecstasy itself. She saw the man next to her victim go down and saw Nathaniel go after him but then Nathaniel disappeared and the human hunter dove for his hateful gun. Jessica flung the now limp form of her victim at the human knocking him down again and poised herself to attack him.

John dove for his weapon, snatching it off of the cold cement. He came up and saw a Reaper throw the limp body of Sphen at Eccles and the two of them went down. He ran toward the Reaper as the creature got ready to spring on the helpless two.

“Hey, she-bitch!” He called out.

The dark haired creature paused, turning towards John. Its cold blue eyes reflecting what little light there was in the alleyway. The sharp features of the face made John physically blanch.

“Jessie? Oh God.” He stuttered in disbelief.

The Dark Lady Jessica stood there, her blood lust ebbing. Deep down in her black soul a memory arose. A flicker of a past life where this human was her equal. She was confused for a moment and angry at her confusion but then the memory grew.

Her indomitable will, the very trait her Master found so appealing, forced the memories into focus. The same willpower that made Jessica so powerful in such a short amount of time with the Reapers caused her focus and her attachment to her master to crack, if just for a moment.

A flood of memories raced across her mind and Jessica screamed in pain and sorrow. With the pain, the rage came back and the dark creature hissed a challenge at the insolent human.

John, tears falling down his cheek, aimed at the creature he thought died fifteen years ago. He placed the sights on the thing his wife had become and fired.

“Nooooooooo!” He cried as the shots rang out in the night.

His usual expert shot was mired with emotion and most of his shots missed. Only one landed on target. With a puff of smoke and a splatter of blood, it tore through Jessica’s chest and exited out her back.

The Dark Lady screamed in pain. She wanted to destroy this human. Not to feed, but to destroy. The pain of memories, the pain of silver, it was maddening. But wisdom overrode such desires. Though the humans she came to hunt were hurt and damaged; only she and three other Reapers had survived the encounter.

Weakened by the silver and the pounding ache in her head, Jessica hissed at the humans in defiance, and then used her agility to jump up into the shadows of the night, her companions quickly followed.

[Knife]

Chapter 6


Greenwich Village, New York

Eccles was hurt and stunned but able to drive. He maneuvered through the dense traffic of the city to the office complex where the Vanguard had its safe house.

John sat limply in the passenger seat. The silence in the vehicle was so heavy Faith briefly thought of yelling just to hear something. Sanchez, bandages wrapped around her shoulder to stop the bleeding, sat in the cargo space of the truck with Sphen.

The large blonde man wasn’t dead but had lost a lot of blood. They needed to get him back to base quickly. Cutter and Ikeman were already alerted to the situation and were preparing for their arrival, medical equipment readied.

The team raced into their garage and rushed their wounded comrade up into the hideout. It took almost till dawn, to stabilize Sphen, and a good portion of their medical stores, but as the first hint of morning lit up the office space, their large friend rested easily in the back room.

Faith, sitting at the desk by the window watched the rag tag team. Everyone had bandages covering their wounds from the encounter.

“John?” She said softly.

The look of pain on John’s face slackened slightly and as he turned to Faith the spark of compassion came back to his eyes. “Yes Faith.” He said in a strong voice.

“I want to know what is going on. Not just here but everything.” She said, hoping to get Johns mind off the dark, horrible creature that upset him so much. Perhaps the tale of the Vampyres was not the best way, but Faith did not know him well enough to bring up other topics.

He was quiet for a few moments; staring out the window at the waking city and Faith thought he was ignoring her, “John?” She said softly again.

John continued staring out the window but began to speak, “It is not easy condensing twelve thousand years of human history into a quick explanation, Faith. Give me a moment to compose my thoughts.”

His eyes never left the window as he sat in silence for a few minutes. When he spoke it was so suddenly Faith jumped.

“As I think I mentioned in London, the Vampyres have always been with us. As long as humans have been here, they have preyed on us. Throughout history, the Vampyres have raided, hunted, and even ruled us. But they were always put in check by the morning light.

They hate the sun and its grace upon us. Hate it more than they hate the silver that can kill them. I don’t know why, but I think it’s because it limits them.”

He shrugged and sighed, “From the earliest times, there was rumors of spells created to control demons but also allowed them to exist in the daylight. Nobody knows where the spells came from and nobody knows who wrote them but around 1000 years BC the spell book came to the Israeli King, Solomon.”

He glanced at Faith now, saw the look on her face, “Yes, the same one in the bible. King Solomon was renowned for his wisdom and how well his people prospered. What is left out of most stories, except the bits and pieces that people ignore in the Old Testament and apocrypha, was his ability to make demons do his bidding.

He had found the Book of Spells, and used it. He copied the book, as occasionally necessary to have the knowledge down through the ages. When he died it became known as the Book of Solomon. His heirs kept it as an heirloom of the nation and it passed down through history as such.

Somewhere along the line, it was captured by the Vampyres and around 312 AD hoards of the undead spread out unto the Earth to conquer it. Samiel, the leader of the Vampyres at the time, corrupted one of the three Caesars of the Roman Empire. The chance for power and immortality swayed Maxentius to align himself with the Illuminati.”

“The Illuminati?” Asked Faith.

A small smile spread across Johns features, “The Illuminati. It means ‘religiously enlightened’. That’s what they call themselves.” John sighed at Faith’s confusion.

“There are three types of Vampyres. You saw two tonight. The Mallum Nox, the evil, dark, twisted forms that attacked us. They are Vampyres that are mad with the blood lust, and as simple as they are brutal. Hard to kill but not too bright. Mallum Nox is Latin for ‘the evil in the dark’ or something close to that. My Latin was never that great. The human looking ones, with the pale faces and evil eyes are Reapers. They are what most people think of when they think of Vampyres. Human looking but, a dark, evil creature lurks underneath.

Both the Mallum and the Reapers feed on human blood, though the Reapers retain something of their humanity. They directly serve the Masters.”

“Masters?” Asked Faith.

“The Illuminati. They are the true born Vampyres and the only ones that can make a Vampyre. Sphen won’t turn into a vampyre. The monster that bit him wasn’t a Master, just a Reaper.”

“How do you know that it was not a Master?” Faith asked.

“I know because Masters are rare. They never reveal themselves like that. They are planners not warriors. They wish to dominate but prefer not to risk their own hides in the process. The last time the Illuminati personally involved themselves in war, their leader was cut down.”

John went back to staring out the window, “Every one here is part of the Vanguard because they lost someone. The Vanguard doesn’t recruit with posters or commercials. We pick up the broken remains of families after the battles and those that wish to avenge their loved ones are accepted into the order and trained to hunt and destroy the monsters responsible for their grief.

I know that creature wasn’t a Master because I knew her in life. Almost fifteen years ago she and I were attacked by Vampyres. I, until this day, thought she was dead. It was her death that enabled me to enter the Vanguard and to hunt the fuckers that killed her. I know she’s not a Master because she is not a true born Vampyre, she was my wife.”

Faith watched a series of tears streak down John’s face and the uncomfortable silence fell heavily around the room. She knew there was nothing she could say but it almost made her cry to see the hurt and pain in John’s eyes. She sat in silence for long minutes until she decided to go check on Sphen.

As she passed Sanchez, the tough woman solemnly grabbed her arm, “He’ll be alright. Give him time. He’s strong.” She said.

Faith sat down next to the gritty warrior, “So what happened?”

Sanchez raised an eyebrow, “To John?”

“No, to Samiel. I am not a good Catholic, but I recognize the name. That was the name of the devil before he fell. So what happened to him, I’d ask John but...?”

“Maxentius was one of three Casers of Rome in the fourth century.” Sanchez said quickly, as she straightened up in her chair and tried to dredge up her old lessons.

“He and Constantine and another ruled the Empire. Like John said, the Illuminati corrupted Maxentius and Constantine gathered an army from Britannia to fight him. Constantine had no idea that Maxentius made a deal with the devil, just that he wanted all the power.

The Illuminati sent Vampyres after Constantine to kill him and end it before the war started but the Vanguard were able to stop him.”

“So what happened?” Insisted Faith, interested in the story.

[Crown]

Yes, indeed ... What happened!

[Knife]

Yes, indeed ... What happened!

Ok, but just for you....

[Knife]

Chapter 7


October 28 312AD
Tiber River, 10 miles outside Rome.


In the dark shadows of the Caesar’s tent, Dolph paced back and forth. The powerfully built Celt still had his dark black robes wrapped around him but his hood was down as a sign of respect for the slight man sitting at his desk.

Constantine was visibly shaken from the attack earlier. The quick trip back to his army’s camp was full of explanations from the strange Celt that Constantine either did not believe or did not understand. They both waited rather impatiently, Dolph pacing and Constantine fidgeting with various items from his desk.

“Caesar, we need to start preparations. Dawn is only a few hours from now and there is much to do.” Dolph said impatiently.

Constantine stopped fidgeting in his chair and sighed. “We do not have the things you need with us, dark stranger. I have men out now looking for the means in which you counseled me.”

There was a murmur outside the tent and Constantine could hear the voices of his guards questioning someone. Quickly an aide rushed in and whispered in the Caesars ear.

“Ah, good. He has arrived.” The Emperor of the North said.

From outside a figure entered. Not Roman, and in fact a local, but the man was still noble in appearance. His cloth was poor but he conducted himself with a dignity that one could assume him as important as the Caesar.

Dolph almost objected to the stranger as some delay on what had to be accomplished before dawn until he saw the emblem on the staff the old man carried. On top of the staff was a silver cross. The man was a Christian. In of himself not very important to Dolph or his purpose, but the silver cross gave way to what Caesar was planning.

“My good Bishop. No doubt you know who I am and what will happen here tomorrow. With that knowledge, and the knowledge that I have long protected your brethren in the north from the persecution my countrymen have focused on you in the south, let me now propose unto you a deal.

I notice your talisman and for your sake and all of ours, I hope your supply of silver is not limited to your idol.” The young Emperor said.

“Caesar, your protection of my flock is well known, but we are a poor church. You do not mean to tax us for your war?” The old man opined.

“No, my good man. I propose to give you the chance to fight the evil you and yours say invades the realm of men. I give you the chance to walk in the light as you say you do. Come my friend, if tomorrow we are victorious, much reward can be had. Gather your silver; leave your gold, gems, titles, and herds. Only silver is needed tonight.”

Constantine glanced at the silver cross upon the staff. “By this sign, we shall conquer.”

The next morning was dark and full of shadow. Though the sun was out and climbing into the eastern sky, the light seemed to fall short of the earth. One could look up and see the bright sunshine in the sky but every where else seemed locked in twilight.

This gave the men of Constantine’s army a bad omen. His Legions lined up for battle at the mouth of the small valley. His infantry in the center with auxiliaries and cavalry on the flanks, the Roman army of the North marched forth to battle.

Ahead of them, in front of the Milivian Bridge, Maxentius’s army awaited. As the two armies formed up for combat, the forces of Constantine could not but help to notice that Maxentius’s Legions were twice the size of theirs. But even more disturbing, laced amongst the men of the opposing army were dark shapes dressed in Roman armor, wielding wicked weapons.

Dolph noted that the Mallum Nox were fortifying some of the phalanxes and some of the centurions of the legions seemed to have pale complexions. The Reapers were taking their traditional role as the Masters lieutenants.

Dolph smiled to himself. The Masters thought they had already won. On horseback behind the legions, Dolph could make out half a dozen cloaked riders. Sammiel had come to witness his victory. Dolph laughed to himself and hoped Constantine had the strength of will to win the day. He had done all he could, explained all the weaknesses and all the dreaded tricks they could expect from the Vampyres. Joining the battle was the last thing the Vanguard could do to defeat their enemy of old.

With the piercing sound of a horn and under the cover of arrows, a large contingent of Constantine’s forces closed in and engaged the enemy. With a crunch, the two shield walls slammed into one another. Pila were exchanged and the sound of various Gladius rang out as the two formations pushed against each other.

The Northern Army seemed to be taking some ground and the screams of the dead filled the shadowed morning. Maxentius fortified his buckling line and sent another group of infantry, hoping to overwhelm Constantine.

The monsters intertwined in the formation were drooling with expectation, anxious to battle and gorge themselves in blood of the men. As a group the men and evil creatures marched up and into the battle but not to the effect they wished. Almost immediately, blue flame erupted across the enemy formation and horrible screeches drowned out the screams of men. Vampyre after vampyre fell in battle at a higher rate than the humans among them.

A deal struck in private the previous night with the Christian Bishop had given Constantine enough silver to coat the edges of most of his weapons. The Gladius of every infantryman down on the battlefield shined in the dark shadows of the morning. The silver lining their edges made small beacons in the unnatural dim light.

Soon the entire offensive of Maxentius and his Masters crumbled and Dolph spoke to Constantine, “Now Caesar, charge and destroy them all.”

Seeing the validity of it, Constantine ordered his troops on and in a rush they swarmed over the battle line and closed with the remainder of Maxentius’s forces. Constantine and his guard led the way, killing all that came before him. Dolph had counseled Caesar to focus on the monsters but the young Emperor cut a swath through men and creature alike in an attempt to reach Maxentius and end the matter for good. Dolph seeing the young Emperor charging towards the dark riders behind the army gave chase, Constantine would need his help if he was to bring the battle to the Illuminati.

Constantine and his guard broke out of the battle and made for the cloaked horsemen and indeed Maxentius was there. The would be Emperor of Rome spied Constantine and let out a vicious war cry and charged down upon his nemesis. Both threw their pila at one another but missed and the two closed in with swords in hand.

With a vicious hack, Constantine cleaved through Maxentius’s arm and down into his body, sinking the Gladius deep and releasing his grip upon it as Maxentius rode by. The southern Caesar remained on his horse but was clearly dead by Constantine’s blow.

Turning his gaze upon the evil that seemingly manipulated Maxentius and provoked this civil war, Constantine pulled the spent Pilum out of the ground and charged towards the other dark horsemen.

The largest and tallest amongst the cloaked riders came forth on his horse. Constantine could see that in one hand was a large tome and the other held a wicked sword of Persian design.

Constantine closed as quickly as his tiring horse would allow and let loose his javelin. His aim was true and the shaft bit deep into the body of his victim. Constantine circled his horse and waited for the evil creature to explode in blue flame as the lesser beings had on the battlefield behind him. But this was not the case. An evil laugh filled the air and a strong hand reached up and pulled the silver tipped spear from his body.

From underneath the cloak, Constantine could see two points of red light where eyes should have been and the dark creature laughed. Constantine felt fear at such a creature and hesitated. He was now weaponless; his sword still deep in Maxentius’s chest and his javelin was shown to be useless against the demon.

The dark creature rode towards Constantine with his sword held high. Constantine looked around and saw no avenue of retreat with the battle raging behind him and the dark horsemen spread out in front of him. He braced himself for a good death and when the dark rider was upon him and the sword was in motion towards him, a flash of black passed by him and the death blow was parried.

“His head Caesar. Only by cleaving off his head can he be destroyed.” Dolph yelled as he regained his seat upon the horse after taking a shock from parrying the blow.

Constantine circled his horse again and found the other discarded Pilum that he and Maxentius exchanged. Pulling it from the earth and taking aim again as the dark rider did battle with Dolph, Constantine let loose and caught the creature in the back.

The blow dismounted the evil lord and saved Dolph from another withering barrage of sword strokes. Constantine quickly dismounted and ran towards the evil being. Grasping on to the embedded shaft, he twisted the creature around as it was again focusing on the armed but beaten Celt.

Using the distraction, Dolph leapt into action and took a mighty swing at the Master. Seeing his danger, Samiel shrugged off the dangling Constantine and parried the blow with his left hand. The hand holding an ancient tome he had carried through the entire battle.

The book and the Dolph’s sword went spinning and a shriek filled the air as the cloaked riders cried out and descended upon Constantine and Dolph. But they were too late. The guard of Constantine had broken loose from the battle and plowed into the formation of dark riders.

Constantine, recovering his wits, spied the fallen sword of the enemy and dived upon it just as Dolph crawled unto the discarded book. The enemy hesitated as if he did not know which to deal with first and it was Samiel’s doom.

As Constantine charged the enemy with his own weapon, Dolph opened the tome and running his finger down a series of markings and script, he called out with a commanding voice a series of words than no human on the battlefield had ever heard of before.

The dark lord, Samiel, screamed out in rage again and advanced on Dolph, flinging him away from the Shadow Book, clawed hands tearing and shredding at the man. As Dolph lay dying he could hear the war cry of Constantine come from behind. Sunlight reflected brightly off of the blade as Constantine severed the head of the weapon’s master.

Lying on his back, Dolph could see the shadow of the land rise and disappear as the warm rays of light washed down on him and the battlefield.

Constantine dispatched his enemy and watched as a white light from the sun engulfed the dreaded creature. All around him were unearthly sounds of pain as the light of day destroyed the army of demons and the battle ground to a halt.

The other cloaked monsters seemed unaffected by the light but howled in rage at their master’s death. Breaking away from the victorious army, the dark riders fled the field of battle and disappeared in the distance.

[Crown]

Yes, indeed ... What happened!

Ok, but just for you....

w00t! Ph34r my power of pursuasion!

And that was a dammed good chapter!

[Crazedwraith]

Wow. This rocks.

[Knife]

Chapter 8


Greenwich Village, New York

“All but one Vanguard was killed in battle and he went back to the Order with the tale. Constantine was now the Emperor of all Rome, and the Book of Solomon stayed with him. When he died, the Church took the book as a relic and has kept it ever since.” Sanchez finished the story and leaned back in her chair.

“No one in the Vanguard knew where it was for sure but it was assumed it was in the Vatican somewhere. Then a couple hundred years ago, some in the Order caught whiff that the Praetorian Order, the guys who guard the Church’s valuables, moved the Book of Solomon, maybe to the Cathedral of St. Patrick in New York. If the Illuminati are there, then the old reports were right and Lucifer is trying to get the book.”

Faith’s eyes widened with shock, “Lucifer?”

Sanchez smiled, “Lucifer is another one of the Illuminati. We think he leads them but we don’t really know for sure.”

“One thing we do know,” Said John in a strong voice coming up behind the two women, “is that they are in that church. Its dawn now and we have a job to do.” He turned around to address the whole team, “Saddle up people, we’re on the hunt.”

A short time latter, the black SUV wove in and out of Manhattan morning traffic. Eccles drove, as usual, and John sat up front in the passenger seat. In back, Faith sat with Sanchez who was trying to familiarize Faith with the PDW.

Sphen was in no shape for combat so John was ready to go with only three on the team until Faith volunteered to go. At first John was against it but Sanchez argued for her, something that until that moment Faith would have thought unlikely. So in route to the target area, Faith got a crash course in the weapons and tactics of Vampyre hunting. Sanchez ran her through the operation of the big machine pistol the team used as its primary weapon, then Faith was handed a pistol just like the one Eccles had given her the night before, as well as a silver dagger.

Sanchez just finished hooking up the radio to Faiths vest and inserting the ear piece when they pulled up to the park by the Cathedral. The church was located in one of the better parts of Manhattan, and all around were well manicured lawns and buildings that while old, were clean and in good repair. It was late fall and the trees were bare, yet not a single leaf could be found on their lawns.

The sun was rising, a pale light spread over the church but not a single being could be seen. It was ominous. John and the team got out of the truck and made their way carefully to the stairs that led into the building. John took point while Eccles and Faith trailed with Sanchez. All had their weapons out; it did not take unnatural powers to tell something was amiss. No pedestrians, no tourists, nor clergy could be seen. The whole area looked deserted.

“Are we too late?” Ventured Eccles as he reached the door.

John took a good look around and shrugged, “I don’t see any other way out. The sun is still shining, so if they have the Book already then they haven’t used it. Lets go!”

Eccles pulled open the door and John darted inside, Eccles and the rest on his heels. Inside it was pitch black, as if the windows were covered. A ray of sunlight came in through the small window in the door but it only penetrated the dark up to the back of the pews and did little to illuminate the enormous hall.

John and Eccles pealed left, Sanchez and Faith scouted right, and after a few moments soft reports of ‘Clear’ could be heard through the comm. net.

“B team, move up and clear the platform. We’ll move for the back offices. Go!” Ordered John through his mic.

The two teams moved through the shadows with amazing quickness and not a sound could be heard from their booted feet. Faith was struggling to keep up with Sanchez’s pace and found it difficult to keep her in sight in the dark. Just when Faith thought Sanchez would pull ahead and loose her, the tough woman skidded to a halt by the railing of the platform.

She whispered, motioning Faith still. “Did you hear something?”

Faith was about to respond when a sudden movement behind her caught her eye and when she turned to get a better look she saw a mass of colored pinpoints of light coming toward her. There was a bright flare from Sanchez’s weapon and from the muzzle flash; Faith could make out the hideous shapes of Mallum approaching. She let out a scream in surprise and lifted her own weapon and aimed at the shiny bits of red, yellow, and blue that were the monsters eyes.

Across the room, John and Eccles reached the doors to the back offices just as Sanchez opened fire. “Status!” He yelled over the radio.

“We’re good,” Replied Sanchez. “Go, we’ll hold them here. I’ll look after the girl.”

Eccles looked at John with concern, wanting neither to leave a fight nor leave a teammate. John himself did not wish to leave the other team, but he resolved himself to loosing his whole team if that is what it took to keep the Book of Solomon away from the Illuminati, and he’d sacrifice himself if that is what it took to release his wife from the horrible fate that had taken her.

He steeled himself and ordered Eccles into the back rooms, “They’ll be good to go, let’s move.”

John and Eccles were just through the door when Eccles let out a small yelp and John heard him go down with a thump. Two shafts of bright light pierced the dark and both John and Eccles moved their flashlights around to examine the room. Eccles had slipped on a puddle of crimson blood as he entered the room, but even more disturbing were the piles of bodies scattered there. The broken bodies lay motionless, at odd angles making any attempt to look for survivors pointless.

“Ah, man. John, look at this!” Exclaimed Eccles.

“Should we go Infra-red?” Asked Eccles.

John set his jaw, “No. They know we’re coming. Stay with the lights. Come on.”

In the main hall, Faith was going through ammo quick. The PDW spat out burst after burst and Faith swung the weapon around wildly using the muzzle flash to see.

“Don’t waste ammo!” Yelled Sanchez.

“I can’t see!” Faith argued back.

There was a snap-hiss and Faith saw a series of flares light up in Sanchez’s hands. The woman quickly tossed the flares out in a loose perimeter and then shrugged at Faith.

“They won’t keep ‘em away but at least we’ll be able to see ‘em coming.” She said while hosing down a group of Reapers creeping up in the now dimly lit room.

Faith tried to conserve her ammo but there were just so many of the evil creatures coming at them. She fired and fired but for every one she destroyed, another two seemed to appear. Out of the corner of her eye, Faith saw Sanchez throw something towards a knot of them. The larger woman then pushed Faith down to the ground roughly. The group of Reapers exploded in a flash of light and horrendous screams reverberated throughout the room.

“What the hell was that?” Faith screamed over the noise.

“Flash bang.” She replied calmly. “Didn’t you bring any?”

With a smirk, Faith turned back around and hunted for another target. Even with all the vampyres they had already killed, there were still a seemingly inexhaustible amount left coming at them.

Faith was blasting a Reaper in her sights when her weapon let out a loud click and stopped firing.

“I’m out.” She said, worry plain in her voice.

Sanchez didn’t even glance at her. Tracking a Mallum who had leapt up into the shadows of the ceiling and fired on it. “Go to you secondary.”

Faith dropped her PDW and it dangled down to her side still attached to the sling. She fumbled for her pistol and brought it out just in time. Packs of Mallum were coming up fast and she brought the pistol to bear and gunned down the monsters. She ejected the now empty mag and inserted the next.

‘This is going to be quick,’ she thought. She only brought three magazines and she had already gone through one. At this rate she’d be down to her knife in moments.

[Crown]

If I'm not getting my Constantine's mixed up (which is entirely possible), wouldn't the most likely resting place of the Book of Solomon have been in the Hagia Sophia in Constantinople, and not the Vatican?

Regardless, good chapter Knife, although I will admit I prefer the Constantine ones a little more!

[CaptainChewbacca]

Is this Lucifer THE Lucifer? Because... wouldn't the ranks of heaven get involved if he pulled some crap like that? I mean, we've got ultimate evil, so ultimate good has to exist as well, right?