Forever After - By David Jester Page 0,28
of the office where a long window took centre stage. The upper sections of the room beyond were visible. The sparkle of numerous lights, the only indication of any activity in the expansive room, rose into view of the window.
The phone on his desk bleeped, he stared absently at it as a green light flashed and a familiar voice introduced two familiar people. Moments later One and Two walked into the room, side by side as usual. He remained seated, waiting for them to come to him.
“Hello boys,” he greeted. “How’s things?”
“Good.”
“Fruitful.”
The pair paused in front of the desk, looking down at him expectantly. There was a chair there, behind and between them, but neither of them took it.
“You have something for me?” The seated man asked expectantly.
One pulled out a large cylinder. A spiral of activity buzzed inside the crystallised glass like a horde of raving fireflies. He had been walking around laxly with the glass in his pocket, but after removing it he took great care with it, placing it carefully on the desk.
“The first two on the list,” he proclaimed proudly.
The seated man picked up the vial with equal caution. He lifted it in front of his right eye, spying the glowing mystery inside like an adventurer beaming at a new discovery through the lens of a telescope.
“Perfect,” he declared with a touch of enchantment as he placed the vial gently back on the desk. “Any problems?”
“No sir.”
“None at all.”
“Police?” he quizzed.
“No sir.”
The seated man nodded slowly, impressed but not willing to show it. “What about the reaper?” he pondered.
“Clueless sir,” One offered.
“One of the worst in the country sir. A good choice,” Two added.
The seated man looked content. His eyes flicked back to the vial, drawn in by the radiant effervescence, like a moth to a flame.
One and Two exchanged an awkward and unseen glance followed by a nod.
“We were wondering sir,” One asked, drawing his attention away from the vial.
“Yes?”
There was an uncharacteristic pause, brief but noticeable. “Why werewolves?” he asked.
He replied with a heavy exhalation. He stood and waddled around to the other side of the desk, pulling the attentions of the two men with him as they watched every straggling step.
“The werewolf mutation is like no other,” he lectured slowly. “It literally is the stuff of legend, only it isn’t passed on by mere bite or scratch. The rituals, the crossing over if you like, is--well,” he waved a dismissive hand into the air. “It’s complicated. Cloak and dagger nonsense. The point is, anyone can be killed by a werewolf, but only the chosen can be turned.”
“Like vampires?”
He snapped a jubilant finger at the questioner. “Exactly! Only more powerful and with fewer weaknesses. They possess amazing strength and resilience. They can adapt to any climate. They can hide their true selves at will, assimilate perfectly into normal society, and, unlike vampires, they are not harmed by daylight.” He bounded around on legs that had previously looked wary, his enthusiasm on an adrenaline rush as he lectured the two men with the gusto of a professor.
“They have a pack mentality,” he said importantly. “A willingness to fight for their own kind, to live with and to die for their brothers and sisters, blood or not. They are the perfect weapon. If one could harness their power and find a way to manipulate it, then they could create the strongest army the world has ever seen. Can you imagine that?” he cried.
The two men looked back blankly. If they could imagine it it clearly didn’t excite them as much as it did him.
“Wouldn’t it be easier to study the actual werewolves, sir? One asked. “Rather than their souls?”
The older man tilted his head this way and that. “Perhaps,” he conceded. But we’ve tried that already and the tests are proving to be...” he rolled his tongue around the word. “Difficult. Let’s just say it isn’t easy to manipulate a twenty stone beast. They can be quite aggressive.”
“I can imagine.”
“So, instead we try to own them,” he pushed on. “We give the souls a vessel that we control, a mind and a body that we have already manipulated. One that will do as we say no matter how painful it may be.”
He strode over to the window on the far side of his office. The two men followed behind, standing either side of him as all three looked down onto the expanse fifty feet below the office.
Two men dressed in white coats pottered about a room