Chapter One
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I always felt like my life wasn't worth much; every day was the same mundane routine. At least, that was how I felt, especially when you have no one to share a life with. As a child, I became an orphan after losing my parents, and then a few years later, I lost my guardian, a dear friend of my parents named Arther. Before his passing, Arther and I would move from state to state once or twice a year. He never explained why we ever left any of those locations, as well as the story behind the death of my parents. Despite lacking answers to most of my questions, I was fond of Arther. The man cared for me for years, honoring my parents' wishes and caring for me as he would one of his children. He had a family of his own until they went missing.
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Arther barely spoke about them, but whenever he did, tears would begin to fill his eyes. I knew that kind of sadness and pain that comes from losing people who you love fiercely. This type of pain was and still is almost impossible to handle. It leaves a mark on you, a scar, on the soul, piercing your heart with every breath. The memories are a gift but can feel like a curse at times when you give the loss time to marinate, to let it seep into your pores and run through your veins like cool drips of saline given at hospitals. Losing family was an experience he and I could relate to; no matter how much time passed without ever bringing up the subject, there was this comfortability of being around someone who felt and knew what it was like to be deprived of a familial presence.
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In my mind, this brought us together, made us stronger when we were together, and even gave me a sense of normalcy. It was a simple word for most to comprehend, but it came with a hefty price for people like me and Arther. I was hungry, starving for a life with two parents and an uncle who would visit from time to time with his family. We all get together on holidays and take those cheesy pictures to place on Holiday Cards that we could send to loved ones and laugh about how silly we look in our ugly sweaters. These moments and fond memories are a pity and a real shame that I would never experience in this life.
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Desperation is a word I was too familiar with, and I formed such a close bond that I rarely recognized a world without it. I wanted so much I didn't have, and being sent to live and get my education from the Orphanage didn't help much. I made friends at St. Joseph's, but only Vincent; I always called him Tre and tried to keep in touch after I ran away. Kidnapped would be a better word for it. Vincent was the one who ended up tracking me down and saving me from whatever those men wanted to do to me. In fact, I haven't asked or even mentioned how he found me at the laboratory, especially in such a remote location, somewhere out in the boonies. I could only remember the men were wearing facemasks like a doctor would wear; I felt the slightly spongey tip of a marker, maybe a Sharpie and a woman was standing in the left corner by the somewhat open translucent curtains. The light above me was so bright I was blinded, and when I closed my eyes, all I could hear was the sound of my pulse getting stronger and stronger.
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I struggled to recollect everything I was enduring at that moment, and my senses were becoming dull as time passed. I heard some muffled noises, which I can assume were the voices of both men and the woman taking notes. At some point, it sounded like there was a disagreement, and their voices grew louder and louder, and then suddenly, the room went quiet. I heard heels strolling towards the left corner and listened to the metal rings sliding across the pole holding up the curtain. After a few minutes or maybe hours, the silence was shattered by the sound of the dentist's device when shaving the inside of a tooth when placing a cavity or filling. This immediately brought up some PTSD, which was peacefully resting in the deep recesses of my mind, a subconscious memory I would've liked to keep that way. Unfortunately, now, but fortunately, back when this was all happening, I lost consciousness, pitch black, surrounded by nothingness.
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I woke up dazed and confused with a massive headache, migraine to be precise. At the time, I had been experiencing migraines again, but this time, as each day passed, they got worse and worse. Looking back now, even though it still doesn't make sense to me, I was told the longer I neglected the powers within, the harder my life would become… my mortal self. It was interesting how the whole world knew who I was, but I never had the slightest clue. My entire life was consumed by loss, filled with a coldness only tundras would be consistent enough to brew. My former life was a blend of asteroid impacts and hollow promises, which added to the craters crashing and making an impact with love against my own heart and what it needed, what it yearned for. Once I tell you the whole story, myth, or what now is considered to some as a legend, you may come to realize why this tale has landed in your hands and what this legacy means for the rest of the world, but more importantly, what I left for you.
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Chapter Two
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Today is May 30th, 2024. The anniversary of my father and mother's death was the exact day I lost my entire world, and a few years later, my uncle would pass on the same day. A few hours ago, Tre found me and rescued me from the laboratory. He was suspiciously quiet since he did not mention how he knew my location and how he could get me out of there and somehow not be detected by either the doctor or the emotionless, possibly mute lady with the clipboard. I have many questions, but Tre wouldn't even look at me; he stared blankly at the ground. The kid seemed like his whole world had fallen apart, and from this moment forward, nothing could change the speed or trajectory of what would come to pass. The silence is too loud, and the longer I sit on the curb next to a sidewalk filled with trash, the more time I have to keep asking questions while receiving zero answers.
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I wasn't in the best condition, but I stumbled my way onto the road and managed to stay on my feet while trying to find the North Star to lead me to some town or a restaurant at least; my stomach is growling, and the hunger pains would not subside until I got a something with calories in me. A cheeseburger with fries or a cheese pizza with ranch dressing as the dipping sauce, and I'm now regretting the last handful of minutes daydreaming about demolishing the first cheeseburger I get my hands on. A few more steps, I have to keep telling myself, a few more steps, one foot at a time. All I can do is close my eyes and continue moving forward despite the pain, lack of company, and a simple conversation; any conversation would be Magnifique.
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At this point, I have been walking for an hour and probably went a few miles north, actually south… I now realize I don't know where I am going. I need to slow down, backtrack, and find Tre. He's probably still sitting down, counting how many cracks there are in between the asphalt. I have to head back, reluctant, but he saved my life, so I do a 180 and begin dragging my feet, eventually making my way back to Tre. As soon as I was an earshot away, I immediately heard footsteps approaching me, so I stop for a moment to really get a good listen… "Tre!" There was no dialogue, no response, but the footsteps continue moving towards my end of the road. "Tre! Is that you? I really need you to respond now…"
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Suddenly, the footsteps slowed down until I could barely hear them moving in any direction. Don't get me wrong, every cell in my body screams for me to run, but this is Tre. Despite my lack of answers and the secrecy behind the absolute mindfuck of a situation, I take one step forward, then another. As I walk up the road, the fear and uncertainty wash away; before I know it, I see Tre. He's still sitting in the same spot, on the sidewalk's curb, with one light hanging over him. "Tre? What's going on? You haven't said a word and continue to sit here in silence." Tre didn't move a muscle.
"Look, man, I gotta be honest with you. I'm scared… I was taken, placed in a lab, and heard noises I would rather forget; then you showed up. You saved my life, and I am eternally grateful, but I need you to say something. I need you to help keep me from freaking out before I have a complete meltdown." Tre took a few moments and finally stood up and walked my way. He placed his hands on my shoulders and then took a deep breath. "I couldn't—I mean, I didn't want you to see me like this, and besides, I wanted to give you some time before both of our worlds completely change." I close my eyes and take a breath in slowly, then exhale. "What's going on, Tre? I may not be ready—actually, I know I'm not ready—whatever may come next, we are in it together." Tre took some time to muster his remaining strength and patience about the entire situation, then proceeded to speak without pause.
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"Abel… I'm far from Human. My people, or what mortals would call "kind" are known as The Lycan, but technically, I'm a halfblood. My mother was human/mortal, but my father was a mix between Lycan and Aldric. Neither Lycans nor Aldrics will accept me into their clan… the mortal world is relatively the same but much more accommodating than my realm. I'm the only one of my kind, so I thought. There are legends told to this day by the ancients about such a creature. A creature who would bring about the end of days for all realms, including this one. I—I have lived a life of shame, and after my mother passed, I had no one to protect me anymore, just like you. I had no idea why we ever became friends, maybe because of the devasting losses we've experienced, but it's more apparent than ever before… Our fates have intertwined, and the Gods have led us to each other. We—"I had to interrupt him so my mind could process all of the information Tre sent me. "W-Wait, so you are telling me and let me know if I'm off here… Werewolves and Vampires are real. You are a third Lycan, a third Aldric, and Human or mortal, as your "kind" calls us. Am I hitting all the right notes here?" Tre nodded his head in agreement. "Okay, wow…" My only response was to begin pacing back and forth, stroking my stubble or lack of one, hoping this would help trigger something to make this all make sense.
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Chapter Three
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I can't believe what I'm hearing right now; there are no words. I want to think Tre's a liar who made up this story to protect himself from whatever happened back at that creepy place, back at that lab where I thought my days were over. The worst part is that Tre wasn't a liar. In the past couple of years, we grew to know each other well. Other than his questionable taste for foods like fries dipped in mayo mixed with Frank's Red Hot Sauce or the occasional order of fried pickles—absolutely gross—our bond was always strong. I'd like to believe stronger than most as if we were brothers in a past life or some form of history together, maybe even ancient history.
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"Abel, what questions do you have for me? We are safe now, so I can answer whatever you throw at me. This entire week has been insane, one I'd like to forget. It's like walking into a mental institution and admitting yourself to a lovely stay in a white bedroom with four aesthetically pleasing white walls to stare at for the next 72 hours." I chuckled at his analogy. "You paint an image that actually sounds more normal and quite appealing compared to our conversation," Tre smirked, but it faded just as quickly as it came.
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"Okay, I mean… why am I here? What do I have to do with any of this? Lastly, why was I so important to kidnap?" Tre lowered his head, taking much longer to answer than I'd like. "I never thought the day would ever come, much less did I think there was someone out there like me… possibly more valuable than someone like me…" Tre shook his head as if to shake off the overwhelming distaste for whatever thoughts continued to fester. "I-I have no idea what you are saying… I-I'm no one special; I never was and never will be. My whole life has been a series of tragedies, a series of several unfortunate events. You can't t—". Tre cut me off; his hands shaking, he clenched his hand, and it turned into a fist; he was beginning to lose his patience.
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"Abel, people like us… beasts like us will always have a tragic tale; we will only live with uncertainty and fear for the rest of our lives. However long that may be, there is no time for us to be any less than what we are now. Trust me, I have been there! Questioning every moment of my existence and what kind of Gods what kind of twisted minds could bring such a brutal fate to anyone… let alone someone with no one to lean on or receive any answers for the millions of questions I've asked over the years. It is not fair, but life has never been fair. Now that we are together, all we can do is survive and stick to what we know is true, not what we'd like to be true. I—I'm so sorry this is happening to you. T-There is only one question we can ask ourselves: Do I want to live or die? And this is a question only you can answer; no external force can change or make this decision for you." We stand in silence for a few minutes, then I look up at Tre and pitch him pretty hard, then pinch myself for further confirmation; this is not a horrible nightmare but my reality.
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On cue, this is where my mind wants to check out permanently. What can I say? Zero answers can quench this thirst for knowledge I cannot attain tonight. At the moment, I want to lay in a bed, get under the covers, and then curl up into a ball, praying this all goes away in the morning. "I hear you, Tre… there is nothing more to be said, and I'm exhausted. We need to find a nice place to sleep for the night. I don't care where we have to go. I will walk for however long it will take to get to a hotel or motel. We both need the rest." Tre nods his head and changes the conversation. "Alright, on my way here, I don't remember passing any motels, but I saw an RV Campground, which usually has some cabins available for a few nights to a week. Maybe we can get lucky and convince the manager or the owner to let us stay for the night. A campground is much more discreet than a motel or hotel. Most of the time, families or retirees head over during the summer. Sound like a plan?" I nod, and we begin going towards the campground on the neverending, frightening, pitch-black road to end this brutal night.
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We arrive at Dale & Tina’s RV Campground. The slogan underneath says We Treat Our Guests As Familly with lifesize cutouts of who I can safely assume are good ole Dale & Tina. In the daylight, I’m sure this was cute for families and other guests driving through the entrance, but at this hour, I swear, those cutouts had the Mona Liza effect. The eyes of Dale & Tina seem to follow us as we head towards the front office. I keep having this nagging thought Tre and I are being watched. I am so uncomfortable; I already want to turn around and take our chances sleeping in the woods; no amount of comfort is worth waking up in the middle of the night with Dale & Tina’s cutout staring at me with that smile through one of the windows in the cabin.
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As I keep looking over my shoulder, Tre and I reach the office and start walking up the old and creaky steps, which is the cherry on top, or as they say in French, piece de resistance. Tre opens the door, and we both enter. The smell of the damp carpet, stinky feet, and low lighting make it hard to see the appeal of this place. At the front desk, we see no one, not a single person. The building seems abandoned; the dead mice in the corner might be the last sign of life this office has seen since Y2K. We cautiously approach the counter, ensuring the eyes in the back of our heads stay alert and ready to flee at any moment. I ask Tre if he can watch my back as I take a quick tour through the Employee’s Only Office.
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"I am going in the back to hopefully find someone or a set of keys to a cabin. Are you good here?" Tre is looking as nervous as I feel on the inside right now. "Yeaahh, let's get this over with… nothing about this place feels right. I can't put my finger on it, but Dale & Tina's lifesize cutout… enough said." Tre and I would not have entertained staying here in another situation, but we have no choice. I leap over the counter, hoping it doesn't come crashing down, getting a face full of deteriorating carpet carcass and whatever that stain had been in its previous life. I make it to the door down the hallway and turn the knob, thankfully, it is unlocked, but as I push the door, I meet an unmovable object. "Tre, I need you for a moment; something is blocking the doorway, and I can't move it on my own; it's not budging anymore than it was a couple of minutes ago." He leaps over the counter and approaches me; we both place our right shoulders on the door and then push. I look at Tre, and we both have the same expression of fear, but he must have read my mind because he takes the lead.
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Chapter Four
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We walk through the doorway, and surprisingly enough, the room is pristine. Compared to the rest of the office, this area is considered heaven, and out there is hell. "I'm not sure why it's so clean and alive in this room, but the entrance is the exact opposite. Besides the couch blocking the door and this lone set of keys hanging on one of the pegs on the wall, I see nothing else useful to us." Tre shrugs his shoulders and grabs the keys, speeding back towards the entrance. I did not hesitate to follow and shut the door behind us. "Yo, dude! Wait up; I don't want to be the latest victim of Dale & Tina's RV Campground, where "We Treat Our Guests As Family."
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I finally reach the entrance to head out and see Tre standing out front, just looking at the sky. "Hey man, you ready to go? We should get some rest before—". He lets go of the keys, and they hit the gravel lying next to his right foot. I nudge Tre, then pick up the keys, wondering why we aren't getting as far away from that building they call the Front Office. I look over at him and decide to follow suit; at first, I can't make out whatever rattled him. "Tre? I'm not sure what you are looking at, but we should head over to our—"Out of the corner of my eye, a grayish-white flash illuminated my peripherals, and slowly, I turn towards the light, then drop the keys.
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I realize everything Tre explained earlier had to be 100% true… In the light, I don’t have to squint, nor do I feel any strain in my eyes or a blur in vision. All around us, the campground’s electricity comes alive; as the light approaches us, the lightbulbs begin to pop one by one until there is a surge of energy. The force of the shockwave throws me at least 20 feet back into the Office, but this time, I enter through one of the windows. I become one with the counter, take a few minutes to get up, and then shake the glass off my clothes. I see no sign of Tre; I rush outside and find him unconscious with a piece of wood sticking out of his left shoulder. I shake him as hard as I can, screaming at the top of my lungs with no response.
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My instincts take over, and I pick up Tre; I run as fast I can while carrying him, and as soon as I pass the edge of the Office building, another shockwave sends us barreling toward the first cabin. Fortunately, Tre rolls underneath the cabin and out of sight, possibly away from any more danger. I catapult into a few electrical boxes; I sit up, but this time, I don’t recover fast enough, and a wave of pain goes shooting through my right arm, then my shoulder. I reach over with my left arm; first, I feel some rod, and this is when I feel the shock of electricity run through my body. Strange enough, I don’t feel weaker or in pain… just different.
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I hear Tre groaning under the cabin, and then, out of nowhere, someone pushes the rod deeper into my shoulder and proceeds to rip the rod out from my arm. I have no clue what this thing is, but it begins to descend and lands on the ground. The size of this thing has to be around 8 feet tall with a muscular build that would make Arnold Schwarzenegger look miniscule in comparison, and I’m talking about his bodybuilding era. I can offer zero references to describe an image of this magnitude because crossing paths with a creature so terrifying would scar you for life. I am talking about a type of trauma that even David Goggins couldn’t overcome.
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This creature went from standing on two limbs to transitioning to four, crunching the gravel underneath its four paws. On its back, I see two golden spears with a black glossy tip, but one is still painted with blood, which I can safely assume is mine. As it slowly creeps toward Tre, another burst of energy runs through my body. I start seeing a light purple aura around my hands, with sparks crackling on my fingertips as they zip from one finger to the next, forming a cross over each palm. I stay pinned to the electrical boxes, grabbing the spear with my left hand and pulling.
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As the pain becomes more excruciating, I continue tearing my shoulder apart inch by inch until the spear is entirely out now. At this point, the creature is a few yards away from Tre; at any minute, it would have him in its grasp, and whatever follows may take both of our lives. I manage to stand on my two feet, stumbling forward, lopsided, leaning to the right with blood running from my shoulder to my arm, trickling down my hand. I turn and bend over to pick up the spear; I genuinely believe my human strength is not enough to hold and then carry.
Now, my heart drops; I hear Tre struggle. I hope the small opening he flew into would be enough to stop the creature, but then there is the sound of claws tearing through a lattice fence that shelters him. As the splinters fly my way, I move closer and closer, dragging the spear behind me. The weight of it seems to be getting heavier and heavier with each step. I feel the warm drops of blood continuing to run one by one; my shoe begins to soak, then collect each drop, seeping into the tan cotton material. The rest make a trail; at least, when the police arrive, they can track us down solely by following the red path tethered to my fading life source.
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The creature crawls through what used to be a fence, then grabs Tre by the leg, kicking and grunting; he yells, “Get off me!!”. I can barely get a word out, so instead, I use the last of my energy to lift the spear with both hands. The entire right side of my body burns, and I feel my muscles tearing apart, one fiber at a time. Inhale… Exhale, Inhale… Exhale, each breath feels like it’ll probably be my last. Despite the previous several hours of bewilderment and the fantastical nightmare of a situation, I can bet my life on one truth: Tre saved my life. The rest of the tale is a subject for another time, but at this moment, his sacrifice and pure selflessness remind me of who and what Arther was. The familial presence is protective and unconditional love for someone you care for or can’t live without.
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Clarity washes over me; I understand what I must do. "Hey! Ugly! My goodness, you smell worse than the Front Office. I'm unsure if I should be impressed or repulsed, maybe both. Either way, You left your spear, and apart from the pain, you've really pissed me off. Why don't you come my way so we can handle this as a couple of pacifists would." The creature had Tre in his hands, ready to rip him to shreds, but at that moment, whatever I said struck a chord, and in the worst way possible, he chucks Tre aside. It begins to move towards me with ease; I can hear his paws crunching on top of the gravel, making the tiny rocks shift with every step. "You must be stupid or have a death wish. I’m assuming both" The creature speaks; it sounds male; his voice is raspy and filled with darkness, an unsettling and cringe-worthy tone that makes my entire body shiver from head to toe.
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“I know you… Sons of Electi, the chosen. Your existence is blasphemous! Every breath you take insults those who’ve come before you. I told Master he’s been too generous, but he kept saying, the timing isn’t right; we need them alive just a bit longer.” “Your master sounds quite reasonable with his whole plan in keeping us alive,” I said. Hoping the creature might come to his senses, which he didn’t. “Foolish boy! You know nothing. We are the ones who took everything away from you and everyone you loved. We were the force behind those accidents that claimed the lives of your parents and uncle. These tragedies were not coincidental; they were manufactured and executed perfectly. I led all three expeditions, and it was a pleasure to watch them each fade away. I enjoyed every second, especially knowing the despair that would encapsulate your entire life from that moment onward.” “You Freak!! You stupid beast!! Come over here so we can end this. It will either be you or me digging a grave for the other; quit wasting my time so I can rearrange your face. Trust me, you’ll look a lot prettier afterward.” The creature snarled, flexing its upper body, making himself look two times the size he just was.
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“Is that a threat?” He smiles, amused by my blind courage and willful ignorance of what will happen next. His back two paws dig into the gravel, and his form reminded me of one of those Olympic sprinters, waiting for the sound of a gunshot to set them free. “Enough,” I said. I dig my shoes into the gravel and hold up the top half of the spear at a 45-degree angle. Praying to the Gods, any god willing to listen, asking them to have mercy on my soul and help save and protect Tre after this deathmatch is over. The creature and I lock eyes, waiting for the other to make a move, surrendering themselves to the interwoven strings of fate. “Savor those last few breaths, Son of Electi. My name is Serverus, Son of the Unclaimed and the right hand of King Plaga” In a dash, almost at the speed of light, the creature tears through the air, lunging at me with all its might. The last thought I have before closing my eyes is, “I’m so dead.”
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