It is the year 2033. The world I know has met its end, ravaged by the monstrosities.

I
call it greed. I am only a single man yet I am not alone. Within my heart resides the
hatred and revenge of the many comrades that have fallen to the beast. My name is
Micheal Dovahkin.
I have shed the skin of a human. My body may be the same but I am no longer a man. I
am a tool. I will not feel hunger. I will not feel pain. I will not feel fatigue. I will not feel
remorse when I killed. I have killed over countless numbers yet those deaths mean
nothing. For what was of my human heart was simply shattered...by the beast.
It is late at night in this deep dark forest. I am alone, perched up atop a rocky hill. The
grass is little, untainted by the wave of nuclear devastation. I have waited for over a day
in this place. Resting on its bipod is my weapon, the M82 SASR sniper rifle. It has
served me well over the months. If everything goes right, this will be its last job.
I peered to my surroundings. There are no pine trees around me. Those are further down
below and across the cold weather of Siberia. The rock feels cold....as cold as I am. I
lied down onto the rock despite being uncomfortably sharp. I peered into the sights of
my weapon. Across the forest to another open hill is my bait. A young woman within
her twenties was tied up to a cross. The entire hill was unlike mine, filled with green
grass. Where she came from, what she did for a living, I dont give a damn. She is my
bait and I will kill. That green grass will be coloured red, one way or the other.
For over the morning, the prey has not taken the bait. Perhaps its afraid of the sun?
Perhaps it is cautious behind those raw vicious eyes. I am not swayed by its lack of
action. I know it will come. It has never failed to do so. I will wait patiently for over
days if I need to. If that is what it takes, that is what I will do.
The moon is now clearly shining in the dark clear sky. It does not interfere with the
vision of my weapon. I closed my eye for only a second and as I knew it, there it is. I
could see a man sized figure closing in on the bait. I knew this is no passerby. This is
my target. The figure, dressed in a coat with indescribable colour given the lack of light
over the distances reached out in attempt to remove the binds of rope. I focused my
body into making the shot. This shot will decide whether she or it will die.
I felt the breeze of the wind lightly billowing by my ear. It came from the left. I adjusted
my scope one tick to the right. I had already calculated my range beforehand, there is no
further adjustments needed. Everything is in place. Now I need to wait for the right time
to pull the trigger.
Breathe...

Exhale...
I see the man starting to unbound the ropes by the feet. The man is not still, hiding
behind the cross. It is not time yet.
Breathe....
Exhale...
I must remain calm. My hand must not waver, not an inch. I watch as the target began to
work on the left arm. The strength and direction of the wind is still the same. This is my
chance. I tightened my grip on the trigger.
Breathe...
Hold
I pulled the trigger. My shoulder felt the impact from the guns recoil. In turn, it
unleashed a large calibre round that is capable of blasting entire limbs off a human
body. The sound and flash was deafening under the silence and darkness of the night
even if it is just for milliseconds. The flash blinded the view of my scope of the results
for only a second. When it compensated with the return of darkness, I watched my
results.
The bait was still there if only hanging from the wrists. The prey however has vanished.
I bit my lip in what humans call anger. I had missed the shot. He wouldnt have heard
the shot given my distance of three kilometres. The bullet would hit before the powerful
sonic boom will reach him. Why has it missed?!
I hear a deep voice behind me. You are too slow old man. My heart jumped two folds
with a sudden infusion of fear and anxiety. I turned onto my back and there it was. The
beast. From afar, it had the shape and size of a man. Now, it is an overgrown beast as
tall of a tree. White fur and sharp fangs along that long snout was its distinctive features.
That is not the special thing about it. Its fur changed colour at will of its master. This is
the colour wolf.
I said as my free hand reached into my back pocket. I guess this is my time then. I am
in a disadvantageous spot but I will not falter. Let the voices of those who perished by
this colour wolf be heard in the barrel of my gun. I pulled my Desert Eagle out from its
holster and fired point blank.
The bullet struck at the heart and yet was unable to penetrate the thick hide. The wolfs
fur changed from white to red, the colour of blood and death. It reached out with both
paws. One went to my forehead and the other for my chest. The one on my chest

exerted a great amount of pressure, making me unable to get up or even breathe. The
other at my forehead pulled in the other direction. I felt no pain despite such immense
strength. I smiled as my life is about to end. So this is the power of the man once called
Ian Raphael... With that, I felt my life end as my head was ripped off its sockets.

Tick....Tick....Tick....the moon is shining outside. It's light entered the dark dusty cell
through the tiny gaps in between cold rusted steel.

Tap.....Tap....Tap....footsteps echoed down the silent hallways of silent grief and

punishment. Brown leather shoes marched its way towards the end of the hallway, the
last cell of the entire block. A young man with a moustache despite in his twenties
reached into the pocket of his brown coat. He pulled out a key as he reached the steel
door of the last cell. He slid the black metal key into the slot.

Click

The door creaked loudly from years of being unused. More light entered from the dim
orange lamp outside. Inside the cell is a man. Black Long unkept hair that stretched
down a man's back and shrouded the face. The texture of loose moist skin from being
damp. He is kept in his mockery of a throne by steel shackles. The man in the coat
smacked a paper file against his free left hand.

"Agent of Death and Damnation...code named Ghost 1307, original name John
Crawford." The man with the file declared. "I'm here to set you free."

In response, the haggard body began to shake. Laughter echoed within the dark tiny
cell. A weary but cocky voice replied in turn. "Are they so desperate that they will
unbound the shackles that have killed so many?"

"It is necessary. Now quiet and do as I say."

"I am content of sitting here all day and all night long." The head of John shifted
slightly as though to stare at his liberator. "What makes you think I will follow you?"

The man threw the file onto the floor, under the man's head. "We have a man that
contains possibly the information regarding the colour wolf or former Ian Raphael
Bonaventure Chin whereabouts. Interrogations so far have not been successful. I want
you to break this Jonathan Thean down. I want those coordinates."

"Hmm hmm..." John croaked again. "That is your business, Richard Dovahkin. I
couldn't care less."

Anger was laced with Richard's words. "You will find out where that bastard is. I intend
to kill the man that killed my father!"

Again, the response was a long bout of laughter. When the noise settled, the agent of
Death and Damnation replied. "You are an interesting man....willing to release the devil
to attain such a goal. My reputation must be waning."

"I will kill that son of a bitch no matter the cost." Richard went closer and slid a key into
the shackle. With a flick of the wrist, the shackle was unbound, releasing a hand. With
another flick and the other was done shortly.

Ghost 1307 stood up for once in the past six years. He stretched his stiff back and limbs.
"It's been far too long.....It's time to bring Death and Damnation."

"So what do we know about this guy?" John Crawford said as the two men with
motivation walked down a cleaner brighter hallway of the Pandora Headquarters. John
is now in a much cleaner and comfortable black shirt and grey slacks. The long hair had
been trimmed to neck level and the beard is now a stubble.
"Jonathan Thean, age 24 was from the Hatsune militia for about five years. Six months
ago, he went AWOL and vanished. A few days ago, he was found by a paramilitary unit

with some fresh corpses in an abandoned house." Richard explained the details from the
thin file.
"What does a bunch of corpses warrant much from the anti supernatural unit Pandora?"
John said.
Richard ignored the sarcastic remark and closed the file in his hands. "Those corpses
have Lycan bite marks. They weren't the inhabitants of that home. They were taken in
from a country away in Norway. Despite everything we're putting him under, he isn't
breaking yet."
"Over how long?" A simple question.
"Two weeks." A simple answer.
"Useless imbeciles." A simple remark. John waved a finger in a circle. "Do you have my
tools?"
"It'll be there when you talk to him." Richard added. "Do whatever is necessary and be
quick. Time is of the essence."
"Indeed....and so indeed...." The elder man by twenty years said.
-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-x-X
The interrogation room was like any other. You have your table and chairs. You have the
glass window that leads to the observation room. You have the single old lamp that
hangs from the ceiling. Finally of course you have the suspect being chained to the chair
by handcuffs.
Jonathan was a slim small looking man. He is five feet tall, the large forehead is trickled
with sweat. The short hair had been pulled back into a braid. Droplets stained the orange
prisoner jumpsuit.
John entered the interrogation room with a blue toolbox. He hummed to a tune as he put
the toolbox on the table. Jonathan watched as John unloaded the tools inside one by
one.
A saw
A bottle of acid
A bottle of hydrogen peroxide

A box of large matches

Large Crocodile Clips
A candle
A box of gunpowder
An electric taser
A spanar
A hammer
A screwdriver and a packet of screws
Jonathan watched silently as John closed the blue toolbox. John sat down and smiled.
"Which one would you like for today?"
Jonathan chuckled in sadistic humour. "How about....." Jonathan leaned forward. "Fuck
you."
John smiled in return. "Why thank you. I'm sorry though that my ass is booked. You can
have the other guy's ass by the door if you want." John leaned back and relaxed. "I want
to know where Ian Raphael is."
Jonathan smiled. "Fuck off. I won't tell you where he is. I can take all the pain in the
world."
John smiled as he reached his hand into the toolbox. "I like that answer." He pulled out
a M9 Beretta and fired. The bullet struck into Jonathan's forehead, killing the man
instantly. Blood flowed profusely as the body slumped dead.
Richard opened the door with rage. "WHAT THE FUCK HAVE YOU FUCKING
DONE TO OUR ONLY FUCKING LEAD?!"
John answered bluntly. "He is unnecessary for the Lycan wolf."
"WHAT THE HELL IN FUCKING GOD'S NAME DO YOU MEAN
UNNECESSARY?!"
John grinned as he put the gun back into the toolbox. "Oh Richard my boy, I'll give you
a lesson." The killer of hundreds stood up. "Lesson number one, you need a killer to
find a killer."

In the very centre of the Pandora Headquarters lies a chamber. This chamber is the
precious chamber for all members of the Pandora. The chamber is sacred. It is

worshipped within this times of need. It is a Holy place...for the wrong purposes.
Richard Dovahkin punched his access code into a keypad beside the chamber door. The
deep blue coloured steel doors opened automatically in a smooth manner. Inside is the
Pandora's box. Rows of shelves arranged neatly along the marble floors displayed their
goods. It ranged from self protection equipment to weapons of mass murder. Welcome
to the Armoury.
John admired the chamber the size of an entire warehouse. "Nice....very nice...."
Richard wasn't interested in keeping the former prisoner in awe. "You said you needed
weapons. Pandora's armoury have all possible type of weapons available." He reached
out to a Smith & Wesson .38 Revolver resting in its red styrofoam seat. "From the
classics." He pointed out to the M82 Sniper Rifle "To the modern." He pointed last to
another rack of weapons. "Even to the supernatural."
John raised an eyebrow at the last rack. "Pandora keeping a stake in it's armoury....very
interesting...." His eyes quickly turned disinterested. "I however am looking for
something else than these old toys."
Richard raised an eyebrow. "What else do you need? If you mean the Holy Bullets then
that's standard issue."
John disagreed as he stepped into the row of ammunition. "Those bullets will do jack
against a colourwolf. Holy ammunition is meant against vampires, not against beasts."
His eyes scanned among all the type of magazines being kept within the shelves. "In
order to kill beasts, we need a different kind of ammo."
"What kind of ammo?" Richard queried with a raised eyebrow.
John picked up the empty casing of a 9mm round. "We can use regular gunpowder as
the propellant but we need a different core to penetrate the hide. For that, we need the
Zero Origin core."
Richard despite being well versed with weapons was unsure of what the man was
saying. Has the one guilty of killing dozens finally gone mad? "No such bullet exists."
"Oh it exists boy. It exists." John put the casing down back with its brothers. "It is
however extremely hard to find. I'm disappointed that Pandora doesn't have them."
Richard asked "How can we get them then?"

John pointed to the door. "We'll have to go to find someone to make them."
-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X
John took the last puff of his dying cigarette. He dropped the cigarette and stepped on it,
scattering the remaining red embers. He breathed out slowly, letting smoke rise out from
his nostrils. "It's been so long since i've smelled some fresh air."
Richard however was not as happy as him. "So tell me why have we travelled from
Geneva to England?"
John explained as he enjoyed the view of the city. What was mostly left of it. "A
blacksmith is living at the borders of the protected city. We're looking for him." Beyond
the six metre thick reinforced steel wall behind him is desolate ruins of the unsaved city.
Waves of the supernatural had emerged so suddenly during the mid year of 2017. Many
population centres had been entirely overrun and with it huge hit on mankind's
population.
The response by the military was swift but losses were heavy despite being victorious.
In order to preserve their strength, the military formed huge steel barricades that are
manned 24/7 in order to prevent any entry or attack by the supernatural beings.
Richard shook his head in disbelief. "Why would a blacksmith live on the edge of
protection?"
"He needs the supernatural beings. Dead ones at the least. The weak ones are the ones
nearest to the gate anyway. The stronger ones live further away like your wanted
Colourwolf. Now let's go see him." John walked across the barely maintained asphalt
into a six storey red coloured flat. Richard cursed and followed after the man.
Inside was an entirely different atmosphere than the quiet outside. Loud music and
flashing purple lights was the theme. Despite how miserable life can be, men were
drinking to their hearts delight. John walked along the right towards a set of stairs to
climb up and away from the bar.
The second floor was a hallway of rooms, probably for accomodation of travelers if
they paid the right price. John ignored the floor and moved on. As the two moved up the
stairs the voices below become quieter but new voices entered in return.
"Oh Kesvin! Oh my God!"

'''Wyxor'! Keep going!"

Richard raised an eyebrow as they went past the noisy door. "Where the heck is this
place?"
John wasn't bothered by the slightest. "It's a gay building? Are you gay?"
"Oh hell no." Richard shut up afterwards and moved slightly quicker up the stairs.
By the top floor, there was only one door for the entire floor. John knocked thrice. There
was no response. John took a step back from the door before raising his leg and kicked
hard against the door knob. The door broke easily, breaking the hinges and slammed
into the other side of the wall.
"God damn it! Don't people know patience in this god forsaken world?!" A bald old man
with round rimmed glasses appeared from a shelf of goods. Like the Pandora armoury,
this place is similar yet had its more dusty and old feel. It's probably from the old
fashioned yellow lights hanging naked above. An extra touch would be the table and
chair in the middle of the room.
John smiled as he replied. "Sorry, nobody taught me what that means."
The blacksmith recognized the man despite the long years. "John crawford...you cocky
bastard. It had to be you. I'm surprised you managed to break free from Pandora."
"I didn't Mr Low." John gestured towards Richard behind him. "I got a job to do for this
dude."
Richard stepped beside John. "I heard you have this Zero Origin bullets. We need them
to fight against the Colourwolf."
"Zero Origin bullets? Oh I don't have any of them. I can certainly make them."
"How much will it cost?" John asked for the bill.
"I don't accept money. They are useless pieces of paper in this current time of a
shitstorm. I want something more enjoyable instead."
Richard was wary of the conditions as John continued negotiations. "What do you
want?"

The old man sat down on a worn leather chair. "Hmm..how about you suck my dick?"
John raised an eyebrow with a smile. He pointed towards Richard. "He'll do it."
"Fuck you." Richard responded instantly. "I ain't any gay shit."
"Then you don't get the bullets." Mr Low iterated the consequence.
"Is there anything else we can do?" Richard wanted alternatives than such....an act.
"How about...." The blacksmith pondered some more. "How about.....you suck my
dick?"
Richard rolled his eyes. "Screw this." He reached into his coat and pulled out a Glock
pistol. "It's either you make me those bullets or one of this conventional bullet is going
into your head."
Mr Low shook his head with a sigh. "Boys these days can't take a joke. Sheesh." The
man got up, turned around and entered one of the row of shelves. "I'll trade for a year's
worth of food in return for a full bandolier."
Richard put the gun back into his coat. "Deal, now make it fast."
John laughed as he walked around the shelves. "I wished I could have seen that."
"Fuck you."

So now weve gotten your ammunition. Whats the next thing on the list? Richard
settled the box of Zero Origin rounds into the car boot of a battered BMW C series.

John was done having another dose of tobacco. He stomped the cigarette to the brown
dead soil. The next thing on the listhmmlet me think. He leaned against the black
car with old paint. Lets go get some booze and girls.

Richard was exasperated with the convicts behaviour. This is clearly not the time for
this.

Its a mans thing. Is it a problem or are you not a man? When he turned around to
reach for the door handle, the cold metal barrel of the Glock touched his cheek.

Richard reminded with the glare and gun that can kill. Remember this. I bailed you out
for one and only one reason. That reason is to kill Ian. Now dont think this is a vacation
or pardon of freedom. You are going back into the cell after youre done. Its whether
you can do at least some god be damned good before you rot into bones.

John was unfazed by the threat. He gave a reminder of his own. You need me for this.
Otherwise youd get some other grunt or even just yourself to get the job done. John
pulled open the car door. Dont play games with me. I am clearly an old man. Even if I
do the world a favour, let me enjoy what little of social life I can get. Talking to a wall
for years on end is very boring. He entered the passenger seat.

Richard eyed the man for long moments with the gun aiming at the air. John doesnt
seem to give a damn about it and lowered the seat into a nice nap. He holstered the gun
and got into the drivers seat. Now whats the next damn thing?

John said with his eyes closed. We have the skills. We have the weapons. Now we need
two more things. One is the location and the second is a support team. Were getting
number two first.

Richard started up the car and began moving along the worn roads. Then were
heading to Pandora.

John, still unmoving from his napping position refused. No, were not.

Richard wasnt surprised. He had met enough of it from the man. We have our own kill
teams in Pandora. Why not them?

They may kill supernatural beings but they wont cut the job for a beast. We need
hunters, not exterminators.

Seeing Johns logic, Richard moved on. Where do you have in mind?

Were going to the Middle East.

-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-x_x

The skys dark but dawn is nearing. Across the settlements within the arid desert region,
what remained of the Muslim population began their prayers. Their numbers have
withered to within several million in the entire Middle East ever since the Apocalypse.
There are only four cities remaining that are intact. They are Istanbul, Ridyah, Beirut
and Masqat-Matrah. The large distances isolate the cities by any means of ground
transportation but the skies remained relatively free.

Near the city centre of Beirut, a V22- Osprey completed its landing intact. Local troops
of Jewish descent moved in to the metal bird. John and Richard got out from the cargo
bay as the crew began refuel and resupply operations. Theyve suited up to fit the hot
dry weather. Richard was wearing earth brown long sleeved clothes while John had a
caramel brown outfit. That added with large ochre haversacks and minus the sleeves for
John. As they cleared the barely lit helipad, John took a breath of the dry air. Its been
so long since I visited.

How long would that be?

I dont know. What year is it again?

2036.

Ah. John tapped his temple. Age is getting into me. Thatll be like twenty years ago.
Not so sweet times.

Dont remind me. Richard muttered. The air is still cold but it wont be soon enough.
Dawn arrived with its orange glow. Well meet my contact here. He should be around.
True enough, a man in a full white garb approached them.

Mr Richard Dovahkin I presume? The accent was definitely local. Richard nodded
and shook hands with the Arab. The Arab said with a gesture of motion. Im Hafiz.
Well talk while we walk. The three moved away from the helipad into the city. The
high rise buildings have fallen apart. Those that remained are only half their original
size, being damage and battered over the years. Repairs to the city are hard pressed due
to the need to combat the supernatural enemies.

Whats the situation going down here? Richard asked.

Were surviving. The beasts dont attack or even so are very uncommon. However
food is becoming a growing inconvenience due to our environment. That was part of
the situation in Beirut. The trio reached to a parking lot of vehicles. The vehicles here
likewise are old and rugged from years of use. New luxury vehicles are hard to come by.
It was Hafizs turn to ask. What brings you here from the UK Mr Richard?

Richard pointed to John. We have an operation coming up against a Colourwolf. We

need a team of specialists for support.

I see. How good of these specialists do you need? Specialists have a wide range of
ability. Its like anyone uses the term specialist to market themselves when they just
only killed a dozen of the red demon cats which are still piecemeal to the stronger
monsters.

We need the cream of the crop. I dont intend to die yet. John answered as they
reached a non militarised Hummer. Hafiz took driver seat of course with Richard
shotgun and John at the back. With a groan of resistance, the engine started up and they
got onto the similarly worn desert streets.

They will not be cheap. However, I suppose it wont be a problem. Hafiz surmounted
as much. Traffic was almost nonexistent, a vehicle here or there. Itll be busy soon
enough.

It isnt. Richard kept it simple. They made their way towards the eastern edge of
town. High rises are damaged or destroyed but the shorter structures are relatively
intact. Grim dust and chipped paint only made them unsightly. The war against the
supernatural had been going on for six years now. Reconstruction is totally out of the
picture. Where are we heading?

Hafiz explained as he took a left turn. The streets are starting to fill with people walking
to work. Theres a bar where these mercenaries frequent. Youll find every possible
choice you want there. Well be there in a few minutes.

Great. I could use a nice beer. John stretched his stiff muscles. Richard likewise
appreciated the chance to have something cold in the growing heat. The SUV pulled to a
stop by the side of the small building. The entrance was a simple door with a sign.
Richard felt it was very inconspicuous. They entered into a dark place. Despite being
dawn, the bar was still operating with a large crowd. Even more so, they arent drunk.

Hafiz led them to the bar chairs. An old man in a customary uniform greeted Salam Mr
Hafiz. I trust you will have the usual? Hafiz nodded and the bartender turned to the two
new guests. What will you like to have?

A cold beer would be nice. John said. Richard gestured likewise. The man went to
prepare the drinks as a dark skinned man joined into the fray.

Mr Hafiz, what brings you here so early today? I thought prayers just finished. The
African looking man said in a deep accent.

Hafiz shook hands with the man. Good morning Jones. I have matters to handle. I will
convey my prayers and apologies to Allah later.

Jones seems to be a cheerful kind of guy. Thats cool. What do you have in mind?

Personally, who do you think is the best hunting team?

Ah, a hire job. How good do you want them to be? Jones asked for details as the
bartender brought the three drinks, two bottles of beer and a glass of cold water.

Richard took over the conversation. Were going after the Colourwolf. We need a team
good enough to help against that.

Jones shook his head with a grin. Man oh man. That is one hell of a team youre going
to need. Although I do know just the right man for the job. He turned backwards
deeper into the back and yelled. Hey Pharell, come on out. We have business.

A tall lean bulky man appeared from a game of pool going on at the back. He is five feet
seven tall. He has an Asian descent given by the tone of his yellow skin and black hair.
He has sharp eyes like a hawk despite the bulk of a rhino. He wore a red undershirt with

standard desert camouflage pants. Black combat boots made the finishing touches. He
said What is this about?

Jones took a step aside to let the two parties meet face to face. Pharell Kwan, they
wanted to hire you to hunt down the Colourwolf.

Pharell observed the sitting trio in curiosity. What makes you think Ill be interested?

Richard brought up the terms. One target, two million dollars. All expenses including
food, ammunition and transport are also covered. You just need your men ready to
provide support in the operation.

That is not a bad offer. Pharell noted. He turned around. Still, Im not interested.

What would make you interested in the job? John asked as he took a swig from the
bottle.

Pharell didnt bother to turn to answer face to face. You intend to kill off one of the
strongest Lycans that currently exist. More than twenty teams had tried the same and all
of them are dead now. He started to walk off. I dont plan on getting my team killed.
As he said that, the ground rumbled slightly.

What the hells that? Richard asked. It didnt felt normal. Soft klaxon sounds could be
heard outside.

Hafiz shook his head. I think Shit has hit the fan.

The bartender suddenly began closing shop. Were under attack. He yelled to the men
forward at the back. Sober up men! Wars waiting outside! Hearing it, the entire
crowd began leaving to regroup with their units.

John turned to Hafiz. Do you have weapons in your vehicle? The Arab nodded. We
better suit up as well. The four of them got out of the bar. The skies are mixed with
black and grey fliers. Gunfire could be heard from all around the city, thundering AA
fire at the flock of demons. Fireballs were returned in kind toward the city.

Hafiz opened the rear boot of the Hummer. Theres not much but itll do until we
resupply at Pandora HQ. John and Richard reached in and grabbed a rifle each.

Im surprised AK-47s still exist. John loaded a magazine into the old wooden gun and
cocked a round into the chamber. Richard had a G36C as his choice. His had a red dot
sight attached. Its been a long time since I carried one of these.

Theyre cheap and ammunition for it is everywhere. Hafiz said as he grabbed a

FAMAS. Ammunitions are neatly stored in three distinct large pouches, enough for a
full bandolier per man. Another box contained half a dozen fragmentation grenades.
Another box has smoke grenades. A third box carried small radios. A fourth carried
pistols, all of the M9 Beretta series.

Richard warned. Remember John. No funny business or youre dead.

Either you or the monsters. I prefer the later. I have a chance at least for that. John
noted before turning to their guide. We need Intel on what exactly is going on. John
clipped the pouch to his waist and hes combat ready.

Hafiz was just done with his preparations. Ill contact HQ. I suggest we get moving
towards the main building simultaneously.

Richard denied otherwise. Hold it! We got incoming! A black scaly demon gargoyle
flapped its wings quickly in a strafe run. Get back! Get back! The trio pulled back
into the bar as it launched a fireball at them. It struck dead on at the Humvee, bursting it
into flames and a hunk of metal. Richard cursed as he raised his weapon. The demon
was too fast and already out of sight. Shit! There goes our ride!

Man down! Hafiz yelled as he rushed out towards an injured man. Jones grunted in
pain at the red metal piece sticking at his left leg. The man cursed as Hafiz began
dragging the man back into the bar. Richard grabbed the rifle which is an old M4.

Well have to go on foot. John surmised the state of their sorry ass. More explosions
were happening in the background. He turned towards the bartender which now carried
his own automatic rifle. You got a medic here?!

Pharell appeared from the back, carrying an M249 SAW. Our base has a doctor. Its
nearer to the hospital and a lot safer.

Jones grunted in between breaths as Hafiz tied small bits of cloth tightly above the
injury. Then what the hell are we waiting for? Lets get me there!

Get on your feet you son of a bitch. John said as he pulled the man up to his unsteady
footing. Jones definitely will need a man to support the limping way through. More of
Pharells team came out the back door, armed with an array of powerful assault rifles.
They were more prepared given the webbing and combat suit. How many men do you
have here?

We have six of us here now. Pharell gestured towards the Arabian one wearing a red
bandana. Jamil, hoist him up. Without question, the bandana man took the man off
John. The base is about three klicks away from here. We can make it there in good
time.

Lets go then. Richard said as he raised his weapon and headed outside. The small
squad spread out into the streets, covering the three vectors of the two streets and sky
above. Screams, gunfire and explosions mark the battlefield of Beirut. Civilians were
nowhere in sight, probably hiding within the buildings which are not the priority of the
attacking enemy.

As they walked briskly towards the eastern gate, the black murkiness of the sky was
fading slightly. Pharell warned as they moved along the pillars of a building. Keep
your eyes sharp. If therere gargoyles, theres bound to be reapers. There was no
acknowledgement from the team, they didnt need one.

They entered an open marketplace. Goods were scattered among the stalls. They
tightened up the formation, several paces away from one another with full circle
coverage. Shrill screams echoed from somewhere nearby. One of the squad called out.
Reapers! True to that word, a reaper appeared by jumping over a wall to their right.

The reaper is not very large. Its like the size of a bull but with the physiology of a dog.
The armour was tough carapace with those red hungry eyes. They can jump over
relatively tall obstacles and chase anything at high speed. Even the fastest animal of the
world, the cheetah would have a run for its money. They also dont come alone. Pharell
ordered as they trained their weapons. Open fire!

Incoming from the right!

Watch the left!

Hold it! Hold it!

Kill it!

Take that you bitch!

While fast, the reaper isnt physically tough to withstand multiple bullets. They bleed
alright. They bleed. Ichor flowed from its wounds along the head and neck. The beast
collapsed quickly but more reapers began to flow in from everywhere. Pharell had the
lead, firing his weapon in bursts. They walked briskly, covering all fields of fire.
Richard was the first to empty his magazine. Loading! John added Richards coverage
to his.

Richard thumbed the release as his other hand reached for a magazine and slapped it
into place. He cocked a round, finishing the emergency reload. He said as he retook his
coverage. Ready! He shot another reaper dead to the head to accentuate the point.

By the death of a dozen reapers, the tide stopped. Pharell said as the others reloaded
quickly. Theyll be after us again. We have to hustle. He started off into a jog with the
others following suit. It was much more dangerous but it was a lot faster to get where
they need to. In a moment, they were out of the market and back on the streets.

Making headway was a lot faster now. Only the wounded man is their limiter. One pair
kept the rear lines in check while the others cleared the front. There was not much to
clear to begin with. Pharell crossed a street junction when tracer fire whizzed past
behind him. One of his men took a hit to the chest before collapsing into a roll. Richard
yelled as they all turned to the left. Ambush! Red furred wolves standing on large
hind feet with big guns fired down the street towards them.

They returned fire which forced the wolves to get to cover. From there, it was a series of
trading pot shots as Pharell tried to get a hold of his downed man. John cursed as the
two sides of the street were cut off. Any attempt to run across now would be suicide. He
said. Ill smoke and we move on!

That wont do! Jones warned. Those beasts can see through smoke!

John cursed again as he called up another plan of action. Pharell! Hold them in place
there! Well flank them! Come Richard, Hafiz! Move! The three rushed in backtrack
for a route to flank.

Jones yelled as he leaned against the wall. Hell yeah! Suppressing fire! He stuck his
gun out and fired a few rounds at their approximate direction. Bullets flew to his hiding
spot and struck the walls, brushing dust off. He pulled back, working successfully to
keep their undivided attention.

Richard, Hafiz and John rushed along the adjacent path to flank. Hafiz gestured to the
unlocked door next to them. Richard nodded and went inside with the Arabian man for a
height advantage. John moved on, planning on striking from two sides at once. He
poked his head out of the corner. There is the prize, six red wolves firing from within
cover of the building walls. They were totally distracted by Joness ineffectual fire. John
moved forward out of cover and fired at the wolves. Blood poured as bullets penetrated
clean through. These wolves are tougher, taking ten rounds each. Three were down by
the time John expended his magazine.

As the wolves turned to counterattack, two wooden windows burst open and bullets
sprayed death from above. The remaining three were killed in a hail of fire. Hafiz said
as he poked out the window. Get moving! Well catch up with you!

John completed reloading as he walked towards Joness position. Joness face tensed up
as he yelled. Behind you! John turned on reflex, gun up and firing at the reaper behind
him. There were ten of them in a mad dash towards him in single file. He let go on full
auto. Joness couldnt take the shot without risking friendly fire.

Ten...
Twenty...
Click!

A few reapers were still left and they had only ten metres left. John let go of his hot rifle
and immediately reached for his pistol. He fired quickly without pause.

One
Four
Seven
Twelve
Fourteen
Click!

That left just one reaper with just five metres left. It lunged forward with its jaw and
claws before being forced on a detour by the hard smack of metal. It rolled a bit from
the impact of a military Humvee. The mounted .50 cal gun blasted away, ripping flesh
and limb off the wailing creature.

Pharell joined John which was in the midst of calm reloading. I didnt expect you guys
to move out you son of bitches. The door of the Hummer opened to unveil an Asian
man at the driver seat.

What do you expect? We wouldnt leave you the LT. Hop on! Jamil assisted Joness
back up to his feet while another squad member carried the downed man on his
shoulder. Four Humvees made a sizeable transport and heavy guns.

John said as they both went towards the first car. You see that things arent that safe
right now. Richard and Hafiz came down from the building with haste. Pharell opened
the passenger door while John took the rear door. Well need your kind of skills to
make this land a bit more peaceful.

Pharell got into his seat as John did. Despite how much I would like to disagree, I have
to agree. Those wolves have never attacked before. If they are starting to attack, that
means something big is about to come.

All the more reason to stop them. John answered. Jamil got Jones into the Humvee.
The remaining men are also getting into the other vehicles.

Then we are all yours to hire. Pharell cracked a smile.

The driver yelled as the last door closed. Alright! Were Oscar Mike! The small
convoy moved back towards the base, not without guns blazing.

-X-X-X-X-X_X-X-X-X-X

Were you serious that this was a good idea?! Pharell cursed as the V22 Osprey banked
sharply to starboard, throwing their small detachment

No shit! Richard answered as the Osprey dived before pulling back up. This is one
hell of a resistance were having! John was on the other hand enjoying his cigarette
rather than the ride. Hafiz wasnt present since he was required to assist and rebuild
Beirut.

Whatever Intel you had, it surely is way off the mark! Pharell cursed again before the
Osprey buckled from an explosion of a nearby Osprey. Well be torn to bits once we
get downside!

The co-pilot yelled at the small squad of twelve in the cargo bay. Were reaching LZ in
two mikes! Get ready!

Richard cocked the chamber of the G36 he still carried. If we have our air support, then
we wont be! John finished the last bit of his cigarette and tossed it to the floor. This
time, John has a M4 instead.

John cocked the rifle with a smirk on his face. Oh Slovakia, its been so long since man
has touched here. Theyre now in Tatra Mountains. This is where it all began. This is
Ground Zero. Well, time to take out one sorry wolf. He said to Richard as he cocked a
round into his rifle. Remember, standard rounds first. Only use the special rounds
when we actually can shoot him.

The co-pilot yelled again. Were going in hot! Ten seconds for you to get out! The
rear hatch of the Osprey opened to reveal red sky with explosions going all out. Behind
them was another flight of Ospreys making the drop. Another flight of Chinooks were
further behind, taking similar flak. A full company of troops along with Pandora Armour
and Air Support will be engaging now. The bird jerked to a sudden stop to hover only
feet above the ground. Go! Go! Go! The squad jumped off the plane and onto a hill
with multiple hillside ridges and mountainous terrain across the entire region.

On the last man out, the Osprey rose sharply before turning around to begin the return
trip from Hell. The Landing Zone or LZ was clear but it wasnt to be anytime soon.
Pharell yelled as he fired a two second long burst of bullets. Wolves across the ridge!
Bullets began peppering the rocks nearby from across them. A man took a bullet to the
head and plopped to the grass. Take cover! Take cover! The eleven man team huddled
against the rocks. Pharell patted the back of his executive officer. Goh, youre on up!

His sniper edged forward despite the bullets whizzing by their heads. He slid his sniper
rifle, the black glossy M24 across a pair of rocks, serving as a stable base. He peered
into his scope and all sense of the surrounding vanished. Two ticks rightone tick up.
He adjusted the scope before looking in again. There you arelittle puppy. He fired
and a black furred wolf carrying an old G3 had its forehead punctured by the 7.62 mm
round. More return fire flew their way but the sniper paid no heed. He fired again with
the calm of a machine.

John said as Pharell rummaged through his dead mans gear. Itll take forever before
we get a move on. Well be hit hard or the target will get away.

Richard answered into his radio. Watch for the infra red lights. Danger close. He
ended his comm. Theyre bringing in the rain.

High up in the sky below the cloud lines, a large aircraft propelled its way forward
beneath the air and ground combat that is ongoing. F16s provided air cover against the
onslaught of the gargoyles with missiles and Vulcan cannon and the occasion of
smashing into them. The remodelled Boeing E3 Sentry or commonly known as the
AWACs received combat directives from the ground operators below.

Jay, the AWACs operator tagged the locations of enemy targets. All communication is
rife. He yelled towards another workstation behind him. Jeff! I need 105s on target grid
five, 40s at target grid nine! Danger close!

Jeff, the gun segment operator yelled back. Roger that! 105s at five, 40s at nine! He
electronically gave the directions to his array of guns. Firing! The powerful guns
installed behind the wing line fired death from above. Loading!

Target hits confirmed! Get me a 25 line across four!

25 line across four! The gun gave a two second burst before silencing. The computer
gave a tactical update. 40s ready!

Three round burst at minus twelve!

40s minus twelve! The guns roared thrice. 105s ready!

105 at minus six!

105 minus six!

Jay relayed another command instead of the back but forward. Ng! Bring us thirty
degrees to port!

Aye aye. The AWACs Gunship began a slow bank towards the new designated vector.

Jay then noticed new detections on the radar. Pang! We got incoming air hostiles! Get
ready!

Sitting beside Jeff was the Phalanx CIWS controller. His screen has a multitude of
cameras installed on the surface exterior of the gunship. Two Phalanx guns cover the top
and the bottom of the aircraft. He answered his fellow operator. I see them! The
bottom Phalanx burped with gunfire, taking down a trio of gargoyles.

Give me a 40 at minus one! 105at sixteen!

40 minus one! 105s sixteen!

Six air targets along the left!

Along the left, I see it!

Guns ready!

25s diagonal from three to four! Full barrage 40s at minus twelve again! 105s at
sixteen again!

Jeff cursed as the three guns fired simultaneously. Shit. If this pace keeps up, well run
out!

Air targets at our six!

Our six, got it! The Phalanxes went to work again.

Jeff, how much ammo have we got?!

105s two minutes! 40s four minutes! 25s five minutes if I push it!

Then lets run out! Ng, give us 120 degrees to starboard! The gunship began a near
full turn, inflicting Death from above.

Richard cheered as a large explosion happened across the ridge. Death from above did
their job in raining hell. Lets move! They moved out from the freshly carved ridge
and climbed downhill. A column of vehicles greeted them, the lead being an M1 Abrams
tank.

The tank speakers opened up. Well take out the tough emplacements. You guys make
sure we dont get flanked. The convoy of one tank and three Humvees then rolled
forward with infantry in tow along the dirt path.

Richard heard a radio announcement. Be advised. Gunship has run out of ammo. Were
returning to the FOB and rearm. Expect another one of us to be ready in twenty mikes.

Pharell didnt like it. There goes our air support. He turned to his XO. Goh, whats
the status on our men?

His sniper and also radioman answered after a moment. His report was grim. Second
and third squad didnt make it. Second platoons moving alongside our right. Theyre
facing some resistance but no heavy weapons. Theyre breaking through to take the high
grounds. Third platoons taken major losses and only second squad made it in. Since
they dont have enough numbers to assault, theyre holding the LZ for the company.

Pharell cursed. Damn, all those men lost. He put it aside for now. We press on and
complete our damn objective. Pressing on would make sense. They have a long way of
the path to travel. Second platoons role in taking the high grounds would be essential in
order to provide support and intercept any enemy troops heading for the main assault
column. Third platoon was supposed to strike at the presumably nearby lairs of the
beasts. With third platoon battered even before getting started, the task is now in the
hands of the Pandora Air Support which F16s are hammering the area after achieving
basic air superiority.

The tank warned as it slowed down by half. I see the front door now. Lots of hostiles.
The place was a former Christian church. Lush undergrowth had crawled up along the
old walls. A large black gate stood in their way. The main gun fired, blasting a hole
clean through the gate and into the compound. Dirt scattered as the tank revved up and
bashed through the door. The Humvees followed in, flanking the tanks and providing
heavy machine gun support. Black furred wolves with red strips along the forearms
burst forth from one of the work sheds. Lycans! Hit em!

The .50 cal guns fired but they werent killing very effectively. It takes a dozen rounds
before one could be called dead. One of the Lycans howled as it charged with a spear.
Akrimi Jihad! The Lycan was thrown back immediately into the shed by the sheer
impact of the 105mm SABOT round.

Pharell ordered his squad. Clement! Take fire team two and three and hold position
here! Were going into the chapel!

His man nodded as they took cover behind the Humvees. Yes sir! Lets show these tail
wagers our balls! Richard, Pharell, John and Jamil took off to the right with
suppressive cover to enter the chapel.

The chapel was dark. The dusty windows let little light to enter the room. The cross of
Christ was broken in half. The drawings of Christ and the Virgin Mary were torn and
desecrated. The benches inside were a shuffled mess. In comparison to the noisy
outside, inside is deathly quiet. The furniture was dusty except the speech stand. A
human shape stood behind the stand. The shape wore a black cloak. It spoke a males
voice. We have uninvited guests.

John gestured to Richard which turn swapped his rifles current magazine to one with
the special core rounds. He said as they kept their rifles trained. Youve been very busy
o wolfie or should I say Ian Rapheal.

The shape chuckled. Im certainly tired of being hunted down. Perhaps like some say,
taking the initiative makes it so much more fun. The shape darted to the left quickly.
The four of them trailed the movement and fired. Bullets struck along the wall,
scattering dust and shattering glass. More light entered the chapel, spreading red light
across the floor.

John and Richard moved back towards the door, cutting off possible escape. Jamil and
Pharell moved to the right to open their field of fire. The shadow moved swiftly, along
the walls and up the ceiling. Bullets cant travel fast enough to get at the Colour Wolf.
Pharell yelled to his man. Move! The two moved forward towards the centre. John
and Richard held their position, covering both their front and top.

The voice came from behind the stand again. I was once one of you until Zero Hour.
From there on, I was rejuvenated with this body that never attempts to die. The four of
them fired at the stand but there was nothing.

Richard said. Youre only a freak of nature.

John added with a smirk. More like cursed to live through all hell.

We newborns will lead this world into the new evolution. The voice now came from
one of the benches to the right. Jamil kicked the nearest bench, causing a wave of
movement towards that side. Again nothing.

More like fucked up lution. Pharell noted.

Human beings are soweak. The voice came from above. Jamil couldnt respond
from being smashed into the ground by the full weight of the colour wolf. Theres got to
be broken bones in there. Pharell turned and fired a full burst into the wolf. The black
fur changed colour into white, stopping the bullets cold. Seeing the ineffectiveness of
his ammunition, Pharell leapt to the side just in time to avoid a lunge.

John and Richard fired from their position, giving space between the two. Richard
moved forward to fallen Jamil while John gave cover. Pharell got up with his unslung
weapon. How is he?

KO. Pulse is bad though. Richard said with a quick check at the neck. Get him out of
here.

Are you fucking mad?

Ian laughed. The boy thinks he knows what hes facing. Obviously he isnt.

Well buy you time. Make it quick. John hissed as he stepped further in. Pharell didnt
hesitate and dragged his downed man carefully and quickly towards the exit of the
chapel.

Ian replied. I dont think you can buy time for your time is up. The benches to the left
shot forward towards them suddenly. Richard and John split ways, avoiding the
oncoming sliding projectiles. Richard was then suddenly slammed from the side. He
flew and rolled several times before smacking into a bench with a grunt. Ian was

towered over him in another instant with long thick claws. Before the death blow could
be sent, the Colour wolf was tackled similarly by John and they flew into the speaker
stand.

The two struggled in a grapple for life. Richard got up with pain that felt like a broken
rib. He grabbed his rifle as the sound of a sharp metal pierced flesh several times. The
Colour wolf howled in a rage before it slammed John against the speaker stand before

ZHUK!

Ian stabbed his claws through Johns chest. One way in and the burst out the other side.
Flesh and blood poured as Johns fate is terminal. John smiled as he said his last words.
One heck of a wayto die. He slumped back and Ian let his claws slip out the
broken open corpse.

Ian turned to meet Richard who just stood up at the eyes. Its your turn.

Pharell yelled from the door. No, its you! He had Jamils M4 rifle in his hand and he
fired the M203 grenade launcher. The grenade struck hard in the gut of the Colour wolf.
It didnt do serious damage but it gave Richard time to aim his rifle at the chest.

YOU DIE NOW! Richard yelled as he pulled the trigger. The gun fired and made its
mark. The bullet penetrated into the chest. Ian was stunned as his fur changed colours
like a rainbow. Ichor flowed from the wound with every beat of the heart.

Howis this possible?! Ian roared before Richard let loose on full auto. The Zero
Origin core rounds struck the heart of the beast. The fur attempted to seal off the
bleeding and regenerate but the core cut off all connections between the fleshes. Fur and
Meat began to decay as all that binds them are shattered. Ian howled as he thrashed into
dust.

Richard let his rifle hang from his shoulder as the battle outside ceased. Pharell attended
to his men outside. The mercenary reported. The Lycans are all dead. This entire sector
is secure.

Richard looked at the small mountain of dust before him. Let them know that the
Colour wolfs dead. We have our victory.

-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

Multiple Hostiles detected!

Somebody stirred a whole swarm!

Contact the FOB! Recall them ASAP!

Richard heard the panicked radio conversations ongoing as an Osprey made a quick
landing outside the chapel. There, the Pandora armour was entering the Chinooks and
infantry into the neighbouring Ospreys. Pharell hopped onto the hybrid vehicle. It
looks like humanitys survival aint done yet. He turned around and offered a hand.
Well be getting a bonus from this right?

Richard cracked a smile as he took the offer and lifted himself into the bird. This wars
aint over yet. Its time we kick some ass.