Sunday, 28 February 2010

A Brief Hiatus



There will be a short break until the next Bitemarks (which will hopefully appear on thursday). I realise I've left it in an annoying place but that really can't be helped as I will be away from my PC (and the internet) until then.

Bitemarks 3.10



Bitemarks 3.10

Skarletta gave Beauclair's house a good searching. Although there was plenty that piqued her interest there was nothing of any real significance. At least until she noticed the vault doors.

------------------------

By the time the flight landed Ed's nerves were on edge. Neither did he feel any better driving the route to Beauclair's house as the sun began to dip lower in the sky, the modified crossbow sat on the passenger seat. He had no faith in it. If she could withstand a full clip of rifle fire from multiple soldiers Ed just couldn't see how this contraption would slow The Mother down. He felt even more unsettled when he pulled to a stop by the vampire's residence to see the gate swinging in the breeze. She was here. Or had been here. With any luck the delay in Ed's flight had allowed her to reach here first, get what she came for, and leave. Ed was't exactly filling himself with confidence. He slid Beauclair's 'key' into his pocket, picked up the crossbow and made his way up the steps to the house. The front door was open, not wide, but enough that Ed could see where the doorframe was damaged. He could only presume that the Mother had kicked until the lock ripped right through the frame. He pushed it gently until there was enough space to slip through then did so, stopping just inside to listen. There was no sound but he clutched the crossbow anyway and made his way, step by step down the hallway.

---------------------------

Skarletta stopped fiddling with the vault's locking mechanism as her ears pricked up. Footsteps, slowly and cautiously coming her way. Had the owner returned? Certainly that was going to make life easier than trying to break through the vault doors. She backtracked down the corridor to where there were two doorways. She knew which one the footsteps were coming from and so she ducked inside the other, pushing it almost closed behind her so she could just see through the crack.

--------------------------

Ed hadn't heard a sound and so far hadn't seen any other signs of disturbance. He pushed open the door ahead and went into the corridor. This was the one, he was sure, that lead to the vaults and sure enough, down the far end of the corridor were the three doors. He knew which one led to the artefact room and which led to Beauclair's own posessions. The third then was his goal. He looked over the keypad and retina scanner. They weren't damaged in any way. Maybe his luck was holding. He drew the key from his pocket and raised it up in front of the retina scanner. An LED on the keypad flashed and Ed heard the clunking sound of the door's mechanisms unlocking. With a final hiss, the door shifted slightly and Ed pushed it. It swung easily on its hinges. A flourescent light began to flicker as the door opened and Ed stepped through...

Skarletta had only a split second to react. The moment she saw him push the door she yanked her own open, sprinting from her hiding place and down the corridor towards him. He heard her but it was already too late. Her speed gave her the element of surprise. Even as he turned she was upon him, her elbow connecting expertly with his temple. There was a snapping sound and for a moment, watching him leave his feet and sail through the air, she thought perhaps she'd hit too hard and snapped his neck on impact. But then she felt the sharp pain in her left shoulder and looked down at the spiky silver tube protuding from it...

Friday, 26 February 2010

Bitemarks 3.9



Bitemarks 3.9

Ed drummed his fingers against the briefing room desk. For once Alf's many contacts had let him down and there simply was no flight available yet. Ed didn't like the waiting but there was little else to do but wait while the only guy available to fly Ed over to France came back from Germany. The door to the briefing room opened and Katia's head poked through.
"Oh hi..." she looked at him oddly.
"It's me." said Ed.
"Ed? Wow. I knew you were getting a free makeover, but... wow."
She grinned.
Ed shook his head.
"Yeah, laugh it up. Just imagine what they'll do to you if you ever get caught."
She laughed and poked her tongue out at him.
"I'm too sneaky for that. Anyway. Have you seen Alf?"
"Last I heard he was out by the comm desk trying to wangle me a flight to France."
"Yeah, I heard you're heading over there. Good luck."
"And what are you up to?" asked Ed.
"I'm off to Tibet. Going to check out some child claiming prophetic powers. It's possible he has some sort of pre-cognition. Could be useful."
Ed nodded. Pre-cognition was pretty much the holy grail of this line of work and all leads were investigated fully. So far they'd never found anyone truly psychic but the hope was there.
"Have fun." said Ed.
"I'll try. You too, Ed. Good luck."
With that she ducked back out of the room and closed the door behind her.


-----------------------------------------------


Skarletta pulled the car to a stop and climbed out. Just a short walk later and she stood by the coast, staring out over the English Channel. She cursed her over eagerness. Has she waited until nightfall she could have snuck aboard a ferry but as it was, some time after noon, she'd have to be a tad more resourceful. She clutched her chest as she felt the obsidian shard graze the wall of her heart once more. This was beginning to become more than a simple inconvenience and she was certain it was responsible for her increased need to feed. Still, she had plenty of strength left for now, enough for her next exertion. She walked out into the sea, wading until it was waist high and then began to swim. The cold didn't bother her, neither did the thought of having to spend so much time under water. She could easily hold her breath all the way there but she feared she would need to feed again once she recovered the device. She took a breath and then dove under the water and swam. She would make her way out, only a short distance really and wait for the first ferry to come by. She'd hitch a ride underneath to conserve energy and then steal a car and make her way to Beauclair's house. She couldn't wait to see what kind of man paid good money for Karal artefacts. Perhaps if she had the strength she'd grill him for information under the Thrall then feed on him afterwards...

Thursday, 25 February 2010

Bitemarks 3.8



Bitemarks 3.8

"Well there we go." said Caroline as she finished styling Ed's hair. The dye had taken about twenty minutes to work and now Ed was looking at himself in the mirror, sporting a short blond mohican style cut. Caroline had even dyed his eyebrows.
"You'll have to shave regularly." she told him, "Or your stubble will betray you. Oh and here."
She produced a small plastic case and opened it to reveal multiple pairs of blue contact lenses.
"One a day." she told him and proceeded to show him how to put them in. Ed did so and checked himself out again.
"I look stupid." he said.
"Perhaps. But you certainly don't look anything like you did before. A quick change of clothes and you're good to go." She showed him a pile on one of the tables. Baggy blue camo pants, a white vest-style t shirt, a short black leather jacket and a studded leather wristband.
"You might as well keep your trainers. They're a common enough style. I'll leave you to change."
Ed looked again at the outlandish hairstyle and his new blue eyes.
"Yeah... thanks."


Just a short while later Ed pushed open the door of Briefing Room 5 and went in.
"What a change." said Alf, clearly surprised. "I can barely tell it's you."
Ed shrugged.
"It feels weird, but I'll get used to it."
"Hopefully it won't be for too long." said Alf.
"So Beauclair?"
"Yes. I'd better fill you in hadn't I? Beauclair was already on his way over when I called him. He came to give you this."
Alf held up a silver metal device, not much bigger than a usb flash drive and with a similar look.
"He said it would let you into the vault at his place."
"How is he?" asked Ed, taking the device.
"Not good I'm afraid. He asked to see you when you were ready."
"Let's go."

Beauclair was laid out still on the gurney. He looked up weakly as Ed and Alf entered the room.
"Ed." he managed with a smile.
"You look terrible." said Ed.
"Too many... bullets." Beauclair replied. "It has been too long since I... fed. Rescuing you took... all I had..."
"He's dying, Ed." said Alf, "He needs to feed to heal."
Ed shook his head.
"I hope you're not suggesting..."
Beauclair shook his head and coughed. The movement of his body caused more blood to drip from the bullet holes in his chest and arms.
"No... All these years I... never broke my promise..."
"Well I appreciate the rescue." said Ed then held up the silver device. "What's this?"
Beauclair's eyes shone.
"I came to... bring you that... The Mother... she'll want what's in the... vault. She..." He broke out in a fresh fit of coughing.
"Beauclair told us of something called the Thrall, Ed." said Alf, taking over, "A form of brief mind control used by the vampires. He thinks this Mother will find his house and if she does he'd be unable to resist. She'd make him open the vault and help herself to whatever's inside."
"What's inside?"
"He wouldn't say. I don't think he trusts the Bureau, as an entity to keep whatever is in there a secret."
"And what if she finds me there?"
"You resisted Crowley's mind control before. Beauclair thinks you might be more resilient than most. Certainly more than he is."
"She will work fast." said Beauclair, "She may already... have been there. I disabled all the security... That key is the... only way in... use it on the retina scan..." He coughed violently again and lay back on the gurney, breathing shallowly.
Alf took Ed aside.
"He probably doesn't have long left but he gave us what information he could before he decided to rescue you from the army convoy. Modern weapons are useless against the vampires. The velocity of bullets is just too high. The bullet goes in, pierces whatever organs and exits again and the wound just closes up behind, assuming of course that the vampire has fed recently and we can be pretty sure she has. What intel we got about the Arctic base suggests the soldiers unloaded full magazines from assault rifles into her." he looked over at the dying vampire, "Just like they've done to Beauclair. But she's still out there walking around. Even if a bullet strikes bone or gets embedded somehow it will work its way out. The only thing they can't heal is an object embedded in the heart itself. Seems that way back in the past a well placed arrow or a brave stab with a knife could take them down but not easily."
"So those are my options?" asked Ed, "Cut off her head or shoot her with a longbow? There has to be something else."
Alf hesitated a moment.
"Beauclair said we could experiment... when he passes. There's a small chance, Ed, just a small one that we could find something that attacks his specific genetic makeup."
"Like a vampire virus?"
"Sort of. Vampires are immune to disease, from the common cold through to cancer and AIDS. But it's just possible that some substance or bacteria that we're immune to could prove deadly to them. Kind of like how a healthy human is immune to pneumocystis pneumonia but someone with HIV isn't. Their immune systems are so strong but hopefully we can find something they're weak to and an effective delivery method."
"Sounds like a long shot."
"That's because it is. In the meantime we got you something to take with you. Hopefully you won't run into her at Beauclair's place but if you do..."
Alf went over to a nearby table.
"A crossbow?" said Ed.
"The design is modern, small, handheld. I had RnD find a way to slow down the velocity of the bolt and alter the design." He held up one of the crossbow bolts. It was an unusual shape with spiked sections.
"It might just lodge itself if you get a clear shot off."
"Then let's not waste any time." said Ed. "I want to be there and back before the Mother even knows where Beauclair's place is."

Tuesday, 23 February 2010

Bitemarks 3.7



Bitemarks 3.7

There was a ringing sound somewhere near Ed and he fished around in the well beneath the handbrake and pulled out a mobile phone and answered it. It was Alf on the other end.
"Ed? Where's Beauclair?"
"In the backseat." said Ed, glancing in the rearview mirror at the prone form of the elderly vampire. "He's not looking so hot."
"I've cleared the main entrance for you Ed. I'll talk you through the route."


--------------------------------------


Ed wasn't the only one on the move. Skarletta too was driving, making her way south. She'd taken the liberty earlier of memorising the basic layout of the globe and she knew where she had to go. There were many aspects of modern life she was still unsure of but something told her speed was critical. Her plan was pretty simple. She would ditch the car when she hit the southern coast, make her way across the Channel and acquire another vehicle once in France. Depending on the condition of her ship and the presence, or not, of the device she would have to consider her options once she reached that point. For now she had David left behind as one distraction and the shopkeeper as a second. With any luck they would spawn more and a cascade would begin. It wasn't ideal for her ultimate purpose but she could deal with that later.


------------------------------------------------


Ed revved the sports car along the dirt road that led to the Bureau's primary entrance. It wasn't long before he could see it looming up ahead of him, a hangar like entrance embedded in the base of the mountains. Private armed soldiers guarded the entrance but they had already been warned of Ed's arrival. The barrier was raised and Ed drove straight in, sliding the car to a stop. A group of people raced towards him, one shoving a gurney. They helped Beauclair from the back of the vehicle, looking pale and disoriented and loaded him onto the trolley. He was wheeled off as Alf approached Ed.
"I didn't send him, Ed. It was his idea."
"What was he doing here?"
"All in good time. First we need to take care of you. We've already got someone breaking into the police computers to remove your fingerprints and mugshot but we can't be too careful."
A young woman, probably in her mid twenties stepped forward.
"Ed, this is Caroline Rebert. A makeup artist we employ for such occasions. She'll look after you. I'll be in Briefing Room five when you're done."
Caroline smiled warmly.
"Come with me Ed. It's time to give you a makeover."
Ed followed Caroline as she led him off to one of the labs. It had been emptied of most obstructions and a large mirror set up against one wall. A lone scientist sat tapping away on a laptop. Caroline offered Ed a seat and he sat down.
"What exactly...?" he began.
"It's ok, Ed. I'm just going to make some temporary changes to your appearance. Alf tells me both the police and the army will be looking for you so we'll have to make a pretty drastic change to your usual appearance. First things first though."
The scientist stood up and came over.
"Dr Goeber." he introduced himself. "Your fingerprints will be off the police files soon enough and perhaps even the army's too but in the meantime, we can't be too careful." He reached over the table for a small glass bottle and a swab. "This is a compound we developed a couple of years ago. It works like acid. It's strong on a local scale but weak overall. It will take off your fingerprints, for a couple of weeks or so. It's painless, look."
He dipped the swab in the bottle and smeared it across one of his index fingers.
"It doesn't look like anything's happening." said Ed.
"It takes a few minutes." said Goeber. He showed Ed the index finger on his other hand. The finger was smooth where the print would usually be and a lighter shade of pink.
"It looks like a burn." said Ed.
"It is, really." said Goeber, "Although on a much smaller scale destructively. It will feel soft but no pain and after a week the soft skin will be replaced with your usual print coming through once more."
Ed offered his hand.
"Go ahead."
Goeber painted each one of Ed's fingers and his thumbs with the compound and applied sticking plasters over them.
"Keep the plasters on for an hour." he said, "That will be long enough."
"And now my turn." said Caroline, pointing Ed towards the mirror. "I'm afraid this hair is going to have to go." she told him, running her fingers through his locks.
Ed sighed.
"Do what you have to do."

Friday, 19 February 2010

Bitemarks 3.6



Bitemarks 3.6

Beauclair stared at Ed's cage then clambered over to him and gripped the bars. He pulled and strained against the alloy.
"What's going on?" asked Ed.
"There is... no time." said Beauclair, tugging with all his might, "They will come round... soon."
"They're not dead?"
"Dead? No... unconscious..." Beauclair gave up tugging on the bars. They had bent only slightly. He dived back out of the truck and returned a minute or two later with a set of keys in his hands. He tried the lock on the cage until he found the key that opened it. Ed raised his hands, showing the cuffs and Beauclair tried the keys on those too and found one that fit. Uncaged and unshackled Ed followed Beauclair from the vehicle.
"Follow me." said the vampire and led Ed off to the right of the truck. They scrambled up the embankment to where the road curled back on itself up above. There waiting was a red sports car. Ed turned back to look over the scene. The sun was already rising and bathed the smashed truck in a warm glow that contrasted sharply with the crushed front end and the heavy tree trunk it had struck. Beauclair fished another pair of keys from his pocket and tossed them to Ed.
"You drive." he said, opening the rear door and sliding himself onto the backseat. Ed didn't need telling twice. He yanked the driver door open, got in and fired up the engine.

----------------------------------------

Skarletta yawned. She'd been sitting in the car for way too long waiting for the owner to show up and open his shop. She checked the clock on the dashboard. Any minute now. As if by magic, the shopkeeper appeared and raised up the shutters on the door. As he unlocked the door itself Skarletta made her move. In mere seconds she was out of the car, across the pavement and pushing the shopkeeper roughly inside the building. He tumbled into a heap on the floor and Skarletta thrust the Thrall upon him.
"Keys." she demanded and he handed them over.
Skarletta pulled the shutters back down and locked the door from the inside. That done she released the wretched creature from the Thrall. She couldn't afford to expend too much power so quickly. Back in control of his own mind the shopkeeper scrambled to his feet, fear evident upon his face.
"What the..."
Skarletta grabbed him by the throat in a grip that ensured he wouldn't dare fight back and stared deep into his panicked eyes.
"If you wish to remain alive you will answer my questions and do so truthfully." she said, giving him a few seconds to let the message sink in. She gave an extra squeeze, just to re-enforce her point. The man nodded gingerly.
"I..." he began.
"Irrelevant." said Skarletta. She pulled a piece of paper from her pocket. The scanned page of Karal text David had printed off.
"This writing. It's from a book you sold. You remember that book?"
The man gulped and nodded. The fear had made his breath grow ragged and his lips were dry. Skarletta loosened her grip a little. "Who did you sell it to?"
"A foreigner." gasped the man, "I don't remember the details."
Skarletta squeezed again.
"I have it stored on the computer." he squealed. "I'll show you, I'll show you. Please don't kill me."
Skarletta let go and the man fell to the floor once again. He scrabbled a few feet away and stood up.
"Show me." said Skarletta. "And I warn you. One stupid move and I can kill you in a second." To make sure he understood she took a step over to the shop counter and picked up the phone upon it. She held the handset in one hand and crushed it into pieces. The shopkeeper nodded. He got the message. He moved over to the computer and switched it on, looking nervously as Skarletta came up behind him to look at the screen. The operating system booted up and prompted him for a password. He tapped it in and waited for the desktop to load.
"What are you...?" he asked tentatively.
Skarletta gave a wry grin.
"That isn't important."
The man looked back to the computer screen and clicked the mouse.
"Just a sec." He said, clicking through a few folders until he found the file he wanted. "Here, here it is."
Skarletta pushed him back, away from the screen and looked.
"This man bought both books?" she asked.
"Yes and other related artefacts."
"That's his current address?"
"I... I don't know. It's the address he gave. I sent the books there."
Skarletta closed the file and the folders.
"That will suffice." she said, turning back to face the man.
"I did what you asked." he said, trying to edge away from her.
"And I promised you would live." she said. Her hand shot up again but this time not to grab his throat. It was a punch and a solid one at that, colliding neatly with his temple. If she had wanted she could have killed him with the blow but that was not her intention. She caught him by the neck of his shirt as his legs gave way and tilted his head to one side, exposing the bare skin of his neck. Her fangs shot down from their sheaths and she opened her mouth wide and then clamped down...

Wednesday, 17 February 2010

Two Poems



A quick break from Bitemarks to share some words and some poetry.

First off. What's new? Well. I think I mentioned I bought a new computer somewhere near Christmas. Since then I've bought a 5.1 gaming headset and today bought the Sims 3 with expansions. Hooray! Plenty of gaming fun which I'll no doubt find time for somewhere.
Then there's the ongoing dental work. I have yet another temporary filling plugging the hole that I'm still dubious even existed until it was drilled there by the dentist. ¬¬ I have that for a month when I get to have root canal surgery to remove the nerve in the tooth and hopefully, finally, get a proper filling in its place. I'm expecting to be in some pain that week (circa 18th March) so make a note that there probably won't be any Bitemarks at that point.
Other than that I found the time to do a little reading on brain structure. For personal research. :P
I was also pleased to see Terry Pratchett kicking up a media shitstorm by announcing his wish to undergo euthanasia if his mind deteriorates beyond his acceptable standards. Good for him. I'm all for assisted suicide.
I also inwardly cheered for the Sikh who won the right to be cremated on an open air funeral pyre of sorts, essentially rewriting Britain's laws on what consists a 'building' in that crematoriums (crematoria?) can now have a hole in the roof to comply with Sikh cremation rituals! Hurrah! A victorious blow not only for multiculturalism but also for people's right to choose. I've always fancied open air cremation myself. Congratulations Davender Ghai. there are still many people trying to oppose this but to honest... why? O_O People are so fucking picky.

And that's 2010 so far in a nutshell. On with some poetry. I have two pieces for you. Both are free verse. The first was just one of those 'It's 3am get the fuck out of my head so I can sleep' pieces. The second is a misanthropic view of the declining standards of modern Britain, covering alcoholism, knife crime, childhood obesity, pollution, ignorance, poor education standards, poverty, welfare and the failing economy, that was really just an excuse to have a good play with words and sounds which I haven't done for so long. ^^

Void

All he ever wanted was to dream
In pictures
Not words
Never ending lexicomanic obsession
And at night
Restless
Sleepless
He feels like he's falling
Tumbling through the void where his sanity once resided
They always said he looked vacant
And inside his head there's so much room
Where did all the memories go?

© Charon 2010

Rule Britannia

The Sceptered Isle
Now a septic pile
Of alcoholic sponges, vile
And bloated with bile
Devoted to defile
Carbon based knife forms
Hardened faced deformed crime spawns
Her Majesty's objectionable subjects
Doing life in housing projects
Mired deep
Dire, bleak
Their circumstances
Too weak
To take their chances
Sit and reek
Inked defeat on rancid skin
Patter of not so tiny feet
Let the next generation begin
Smell the meat
Our climate's changing
Recycled hope won't pave the streets
Of tomorrow's daydream
Scream
In frustration at the here 'n' now 'n'
Offer these thugs next decade's power?
As amnesty?
We'll see
When the unemployable have no one left
To pay for their enjoyable
Travail bereft existence
No public coffers to offer assistance
Persistent offenders
The last defenders
Of the crumbling empire
Rue Britannia

© Charon 2010

Tuesday, 16 February 2010

Bitemarks 3.5



Oh joy. Root canal surgery next month. Lucky old me.

Bitemarks 3.5

Ed did his best to nap for his remaining two hours. Whether they were on time or not he couldn't tell. All he was aware of was the sound of the door being unlocked and opened as he came round. Two soldiers marched into the room, both wielding assault rifles trained on Ed. one at head height, one at the chest. Clearly they were taking this threat seriously. A third soldier, probably the one who'd being guarding the door, entered with a pair of cuffs in his hands. They were different from standard police handcuffs. Ed even knew what they were. The Bureau had developed them to restrain various superstrength creatures. Werewolves initially. No surprise that the technology had eventually been sold on to the army. But Ed didn't have superstrength. To him they were not really any different from the cuffs he'd been led to the cell in. He offered his wrists and the soldier slipped the cuffs on and locked them. A blue led indicated they were live. Remote controlled shock cuffs, Ed knew. Not that it mattered. Any escape attempt would be futile. And so Ed let them lead him from the station, a blanket over his head in case of any stealth photography.
When the blanket was finally removed Ed was in the rear of the armoured vehicle. It was some form of all terrain truck he guessed. The innards had various metal panels welded into position and he couldn't begin to guess at what lay beneath them. They hadn't taken any chances. Even from the inside it looked built to take impact. A series of vertical bars sealed Ed off from the rearmost section of the truck, where his two armed guards sat. Ed didn't need to examine them to know what alloy they were made of. They had the same colouration as the bars of the cage they'd kept Grace in. The panels too now he took the time to look. Ed was actually impressed. If they'd somehow caught The Mother instead of him this cage just might hold her. And so Ed sat back and waited as they drove through the morning darkness. Away from the city. And out to who knows where...

----------------------------------------------

Ed was watching his captors through the bars. They hadn't spoke to one another. Had barely shifted position except to occasionally glance at Ed. Not so much as a cough since they'd left the...
"What the..."
There was a screech of tires accompanying that voice from up ahead and the truck lurched violently. Ed was thrown up against one side and then up towards the roof as the rear end of the truck seemed to lift up from the floor. For a second it felt as though the vehicle was airborne then the rear end hit the floor again with a thump, jolting Ed once more, hard into the metal panels. Ed winced and clutched his head where it had struck the wall. Through the bars he could see his guards regaining their footing and reaching for their weapons. There was another sound from outside the vehicle. Gunfire, from an automatic weapon. Then a scream, then silence. Ed's guards looked at one another and held a brief whispered conversation before checking their weapons and opening the rear door. They both left, the doors closing shut behind them. From his prison all Ed could do was wait and listen. More gunfire. It sounded like both the soldiers were firing in short controlled bursts. He heard the clang of metal on metal as some of the shots hit the vehicle. Then more shouts. And then more ominous silence. Ed braced himself for the worst. Something struck the back of the truck and it shifted under the impact. What was going on? Was it The Mother? Or someone thinking they could steal her? An army of her spawn? Whatever was pounding the doors was actually having an impact and here and there the metal was beginning to buckle. Soon there was a terrible scraping sound and the leftmost door was torn clean from its hinges and flung aside. Pressing himself up against one wall Ed looked out into the darkness.
"Ed?"
He didn't recognise the voice straight away, but as the head came into view, peering into the truck Ed recognised the face. Climbing inside and bleeding heavily from numerous bullet wounds was Beauclair.

Monday, 15 February 2010

Bitemarks 3.4



The annoying thing about having only one day off in a week is that I have to spend it catching up on everything. I have two, yes two poems waiting to be typed up tomorrow and a dentist appointment and a bunch of other things. But lucky for you I can squeeze a Bitemarks in today. Now, where were we?

Bitemarks 3.4

Ed woke up to the sound of the hatch on the door opening. He hadn't been asleep very long. There was no way it was morning yet.
"That's him?"
"Yeah."
He didn't recognize the first voice but the second was the cop who'd arrested him.
"We thought it was gonna be a woman."
The hatch shut and Ed sprang from the bed and pressed his ear to the door. The rest of the conversation was muffled through the thick door.
"So what now?"
That was the cop again.
"I'm standing guard by this door 'til they finish armouring the transport and send it over. Shouldn't take them too long."
"He's really that dangerous?"
"I'm not authorised to give you details but if he gets out of there or tries anything I'm to shoot and the same goes for every cop in this place. You understand?"
"Yeah. Shit. I thought there was something funny about him, you know? Didn't think he was the guy you looking for 'til the prints matched."
"Well in another couple of hours it won't be your problem any more."
That was all they said and Ed presumed the cop had left. They'd mentioned prints and from the sound of it Ed guessed it was the army. They must think he was responsible for what had happened at the Arctic base. He thought he'd wiped off every print and mentally kicked himself for being sloppy. They must have been checking the police databases as he was brought in. Suddenly things didn't look so good. It was one thing for Alf to arrange to have him released from a police cell. But in the hands of the army and an armoured vehicle? He tapped on the hatch and called out.
"What time is it?"
"Two thirty am, sir."
Ed was surprised his guard had responded. Two thirty. His escort then was expected around four thirty. These guys worked fast. Whatever base they came from must be close. Aborfield? Ed didn't know the distance exactly but it seemed possible. If they took him there, what chance of escape would there be?

Thursday, 11 February 2010

Something interesting.



Fulke Greville. You know, I'd always dismissed the theory as rubbish. People want to believe in conspiracies and this simply gives the academics something to argue about, to be divided over, to sneeringly deride the common man "Bah, You think Shakespeare actually wrote The Tempest? You know nothing."

Turns out there may be more to it than I thought. O_O

This caught my eye in the papers today.

Could it be that there may be proof that Greville wrote Shakespeare's works? :o

And if that's true... How did Shakes get credited for them all at the time if it really was so painfully obvious that he was 'barely literate' as it has been said. :S

And if it only proves that Greville wrote some of Shakespeare's works, do we then presume him to have written them all?

This is a lot to think about.

Wednesday, 10 February 2010

Oh baby.



http://www.verbatim-europe.co.uk/en_1/product_5-1-channel-gaming-usb-headset_15786.html

Woohoo!!! :D Suddenly my previous headset sounds so pathetic. Pete and I are stepping it up a notch. ^^ Online gaming is gonna be so awesome.

Tuesday, 9 February 2010

Bitemarks 3.3



Bitemarks 3.3

With his hands cuffed behind him Ed was chaperoned, unceremoniously, towards a desk at the nearest police station. The bored looking officer behind it pulled a fresh form from a pile.
"Name?"
"Dale Fletcher."
This was the first part of the system.
"Address?"
"32 Westcroft Avenue, It's in Bradford." Ed said. And it was. A real address, registered to one Dale Fletcher. If they bothered to check they'd find the bills paid from Mr Fletcher's account regularly and a passport and driver's licence proving Ed to be Dale Fletcher.
"Post code?"
"BD12 3FG."
It wasn't perfect. If they looked hard enough they'd realise it to be fake in the end. But it would buy time. Ed wasn't sure what for exactly.
The officer addressed the other policeman holding Ed.
"Charges?"
The arresting officer placed Ed's gun down on the desk, and the clip he'd removed from it.
"Possession of an unlicensed firearm. Unknown model, no serial number. Discharge of an unlicensed firearm in a public place. That's it until we question him, but possible connection to a murder as well."
The desk cop didn't bat an eyelid. He just wrote it all down then sealed the gun and clip in clear plastic pouches and placed them in a safe behind him.
"Sign here."
Ed waited while he was uncuffed then signed Dale's signature at the bottom of the form.
"Right, come on, with me." barked the arresting officer, tugging Ed down the corridor.

Fingerprints were the next stop and after that Ed was bundled down more corridors, past security gates, to the cells. His escort pushed him through and locked the door behind him. He stopped to open the hatch on the door and peered through.
"We'll be back for you in the morning. You can ring your lawyer then, unless you need us to provide one?"
"I have my own." said Ed. Sure it looked bad but he wasn't about to let this faze him. The system existed for a reason. He had all faith in Alf. The cop slammed the hatch shut and bolted it. Ed looked around at his room for the night. An off white mattress with thin grey blanket and a stainless steel box that was no doubt the lavatory. It was bolted to the floor as was the bed and overhead a dome camera sat nestled in the roof, a single red LED its only feature. Ed lay down on the bed and tried to sleep.

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Skarletta looked up from her papers as David entered.
"What happened to you?"
"I was shot..."
Skarletta came over to him and examined the wound.
"Hmmph. It'll heal. Lie down."
A foolish mistake, she thought to herself. David had given away their location and being so caught up in the remembrance of her mission she'd forgotten to spawn more distractions. No matter.
"David. I have to go to Coventry." she waved the papers he'd printed off as explanation. "You stay here. Rest up. It shouldn't take me long."
She neglected to tell him she wouldn't be returning. From Coventry she would go straight to find her ship, leaving more spawn in her wake. If she had further need of David she could return for him and if not he'd suit his purpose as a diversion for anyone trying to follow her.
"Do you need to me to do anything while you're gone?"
Skarletta shook her head.
"I have all the information I need for now. Oh. Wait, there is one more thing. You do have a car, right?"

Monday, 8 February 2010

Just a chuckle.



Smile, it's Monday. :)

Oh Myspace... Thanks for trying.

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Revenge!

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And my recent attempts to sign up for AOL Instant Messenger. Thanks for reminding me why I hate you, AOL.

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Saturday, 6 February 2010

Bitemarks 3.2



Bitemarks 3.2

"What is it?" Skarletta asked, not looking up from the sheets of printed paper she held in her hands.
"I need to feed again..." said David, wringing his hands. Skarletta sighed and looked up at him.
"Then go feed child. You do not require my permission or blessing. Come, go, as you please. Just as long as this research is completed as quickly as possible."
He hung there for a moment.
"Begone!" she cried, swinging an arm in the direction of the doorway and watching as he scampered off.
She turned her attention back to the documents she held. He'd done a good job. She had to give him credit for that. She had expected it to take longer but already she could see many things of interest to her.
Firstly the planet's fluctuating temperatures. Not particularly out of its original tolerance either way. This was enough to convince her that either the device had not been activated, or if it had it must be too far away from the magnetic pole which had caused it to malfunction. Had she had it on her all those years ago at the Arctic? Or, as she presumed, had she been there on recon, the device still safely stored aboard her ship. And that raised the ultimate question, who had her ship now? Where was it? And the answer loomed back at her from another sheet of paper. Copies of information relating to the sale of two books written in an unknown script sold to an overseas collector by an antiques dealer in Coventry. It was close enough that she wanted to visit it. She needed to find out who had bought these two books. She had no doubt that they were written in Karal. Everything she had researched about unknown scripts had pointed to two things. A useless book called the Voynich manuscript that she had already determined was not written in Karal, and a scanned page that was definitely written in Karal taken from one of the two books. There were others of course, but even her eyes could discount them as old, half-formed Dherroine languages or works of fanciful gibberish or complex ciphers invented by novelists. No, these books were definitely Karal in origin and whoever bought them knew damn well what they were buying and Skarletta would bet her life that they knew where her ship was.


Ed stood near his parked car and looked over the edge. He'd parked on top of a multi-story carpark, giving a decent view of an area of the city around where the bodies were found. He looked out over that area now with a pair of nightvision goggles. He hadn't seen anything unusual in the last few hours and neither had Katia yet. He pushed the goggles up onto his forehead and returned to the car and slid into the driver's seat. On the passenger seat behind him was the laptop. He sent Katia an instant message.
"Anything yet?"
and then checked his mail to see if there was any more news from the Bureau. His inbox was still empty and the instant messenger application beeped at him. He checked Katia's reply.
"Not a thing. I'm gonna leave the car, take a look around. Maybe ask a few people."
He sent back a quick "OK" then went back to his post. The view was good up here but maybe he should follow Katia's lead and take a look around street level too. He tossed the goggles back into the car and locked it then made his way down the car park.

A few minutes later he exited the car park and looked around the streets. No surprise they were empty. Most people were tucked up in bed by this time on a Monday night. He took a left, making for one of the quieter side streets. The most recent bodies had been found not far from here. Just a street or two away...
A scream cut through the air at that moment and Ed's ears pricked up. He'd heard the direction it came from and ran without thinking into a darkened alleyway. There was a shorter cry, much quieter this time, but close. Around the next corner, thought Ed as he ran. He reached the next right hand turn and stopped, peering around the corner. Less than ten feet from him a man held a woman up against the wall. The lack of light made it difficult to see but the man had the woman pinned and was leaning close. Ed could swear he was leaning in to bite. He reached under his coat and pulled his gun and stepped out from his cover.
"Hold it!" He called, raising the gun and aiming at the man. He let go of the woman, who fell to the floor. It may have been dark but Ed was certain she was dead already. The man seemed indecisive, not knowing what to do faced with this threat. Fight or flee? He made the latter choice and as he ran Ed fired after him. Just one shot, he saw it strike him, saw his footing slip for a second, and then he was gone. Ed moved to the woman, reached down and felt her neck. He hadn't bitten her but she was dead. He moved the head a little and confirmed what he'd thought. Her neck had been snapped. He stood back up and was about to holster the gun and return to the car when another voice shouted out behind him.
"Freeze buddy!"
Ed froze.
"Hold it right there mister. Hold the gun out, arm's length."
Ed did so.
"Drop it, kick it away and turn round."
Ed sighed. This was something every agent dreaded. He knew without looking that it was a cop behind him, with gun drawn no doubt. He couldn't run for risk of being shot. He couldn't fire on him, both out of conscience and Bureau rules. There was a system in place. A system every agent knew only too well and hoped they never had to implement. Ed dropped the gun and kicked it aside and turned around. He'd been right of course and the cop kept his gun trained on him.
"Is she dead?"
"Yes." said Ed. There was no need to lie.
"Lie down with your hands on your head."
Ed did so and heard the cop radio in for backup. This was going to be a long night...

Bitemarks 3.1



Bitemarks 3.1

Ed ran into Alf by the main desk at the Bureau and didn't waste any time.
"What's the news, Alf?" he asked, eager to know what he'd missed.
"Well, we think we've found where she is, Ed." said Alf. He motioned Ed to follow him and they made for a briefing room, talking as they walked.
"Military security has been tightened since the Arctic Incident but we did discover that the troops posted to investigate came from Aborfield. In recent years it's been reestablished as one of the major army bases in England. The chopper was returning there when the 'Mother' presumably escaped. Now..."
They reached the door and Alf opened it and walked in. There were photos of various kinds already spread out on the table and pinned to a notice board against one wall.
"Three notable deaths over the last two or three days in Birmingham." He pointed to one aerial picture.
"It's on the flightpath as the chopper returned to Aborfield and that's also around where the army tried to make contact with it. Police intel we gathered on the three murders marks two of them as definite vampiric activity. A woman, found yesterday night. Bite marks on the neck, severe blood loss. The police are confused but this has to be a feeding victim. I've already sent Katia to go check out the surrounding area. The second was a couple, found just an hour ago. Their bodies were in a dumpster, same deal, feeding victims."
"And the third?"
"A man. He wasn't fed upon but he was mutilated. Poor guy had his cock torn right off. They found it twenty feet away... I can't even begin to imagine why... but that has to be our vampire too."
"Wanton sadism?"
Alf shrugged.
"Who knows, Ed? But it was only a short distance away from where they found the first young woman. Did I mention the woman was found naked?"
"She took her clothes? Well that makes sense. She's trying to blend in."
"Which doesn't make it any easier to find her."
"So what now?"
"I want you in Birmingham. You and Katia. She has a police scanner and I'll give you one too. Take a laptop and we'll keep an eye on things and direct you as necessary. If we can at least narrow the area down... Someone must have seen something unusual."
"And when we find her?"
"She's dangerous, Ed. First of all we just need to see what she looks like, where she's hiding, what she's up to."
"And how do we kill her?"
"I... I don't know, Ed. We don't have any real methods from the archives other than the beheading tactic used during the cull. We can rule some things out straight out of the myths though. Sunlight, running water, garlic, crucifixes. All bullshit."
"Then get hold of Beauclair. He must know something. I'll head over to Birmingham now. As soon as you know something, update me."

Monday, 1 February 2010

Postponed.



I'm now on painkillers and anti-biotics. It could be an abscess. I'm postponing Bitemarks until I recover from this. Sorry.