This is a work of fiction involving the relationship of two young men (late teens to mid twenties), both physical and emotional. If you are made uncomfortable by such subjects as gay sex, magic and the supernatural, then please stop reading now. Likewise, if you are below the age of 18, please stop here.
This story uses elements from White Wolf's World of Darkness series of games. Mage: The Ascension, Magadon Pharmaceutical, PsychDiv, Verbena, Cult of Ecstasy, Freak Legions, Werewolf: The Apocalypse, Pentex, The Traditions, The Technocracy and similar elements are copyrighted by White Wolf Game Studio. This work of fiction is not a challenge to existing copyrighted materials, and no profit is gained by its publication.
Kate Sanders, Aaron Barry, and Stefan are the intellectual property of Don Bassingwaite and White Wolf Fiction. For a more in depth treatment of these characters, and a great read, pick up a copy of SUCH PAIN from Harper Collins.
All other characters and story elements belong to the author.
Constructive criticism is highly appreciated; flamers and hate mail will be ignored. Write me at PaganGamer@yahoo.com with Awakening in the subject heading.
Also published on Nifty by the author:
Shame of Caine -- Science Fiction/Fantasy
** I have also published this and the previous chapters in an MS Word format on the Gay_Fantasy_Fiction group at Yahoo Groups. I have started placing artwork depicting scenes and characters from the story there as well. Give it a look, or upload your own Sci-Fi / Fantasy stories. It's totally free. http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Gay_Fantasy_Fiction/ **
The Awakening
By Liam Barnes
9
The Bad Seed
May 23rd, 2002 4:30 p.m. Financial District, San Francisco
Agent Kate Sanders strode through the automatic doors of Global Standards Consultation. Inside the small lobby sat a prim, middle aged woman behind a polished marble reception desk. She looked up briefly from a computer screen, giving her what passed for a nod of greeting. Kate walked on by without saying anything.
Off to the side of the desk, she pushed a button to open the elevator doors. Once inside, she inserted a security card into the button panel, causing a small door to slid open and reveal a retinal scanner. She leaned into an extended tube which read her eye pattern, eliciting a response from the machine.
<Sanders, Katherine. New World Order Operative 3-8003. Gray Suit. Permanent assignment: San Francisco Construct.>
The panel closed as the elevator began its way down. Posing as an I.S.O. 9000 auditing firm, G.S.C. was merely a front house for true Technocratic base below the Financial District. Unenlightened operatives maintained the company, using the guise to investigate registered companies, diverting any suspicions and giving the Union access to the others' files.
The doors opened after a few seconds of travel to a sterile white room with a few featureless chairs and tables. A young man in a button up white shirt and black tie sat behind a polymer desk that appeared to rise from the floor itself. Looking up at the agent and nodding, he gave her a polite smile. "Welcome back, Agent Sanders."
Kate returned the smile with one of her own. "Mr. Davis." She walked up to his desk "Has Agent Preston checked in yet?"
"No ma'am. He last contacted Control at 1:10 p.m. from Magadon Pharmaceuticals."
Kate frowned inwardly, but maintained her smile for the desk jockey. "I see. Did he have anything to report?"
"Only that he was following up a lead on the kidnapping of the Safavi girl."
"Inform me if he calls back in. Also, send out a recovery unit to Golden Gate Park to retrieve one of the sedans. Its I.D. is the same as the one Agent Preston took out this morning."
"Yes ma'am." Davis typed something into a small console at the desk. "Do you wish for a sweep of the vehicle?"
Kate shook her head. "No need. I checked for any traces within or outside the vehicle. It was clean." The man nodded and went back to work as she walked on down a stark hallway. In truth she had eliminated all evidence left by Mr. Uptmor and Ledescu. She had been in the Cultist's mind. There was nothing sinister in his connection to the girl, unless someone with greater ability than Stefan had covered it up. That, however, was a not a plausible scenario in her mind.
She stopped outside of Agent Preston's office with a thoughtful look. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her cell phone and arranged for all of her calls to be forwarded to it. Content, she looked around the hall, and entered his office.
Inside was a collection of advanced hardware and half completed devices scattered in random piles about the room. She `tsked' and the general lack of organization in the room and set about looking around. She was careful in her task, not sure of what was safe to touch. Preston was one of the older members of the BioMechanic Methodology within Iteration X, a group whose focus lays mainly in cybernetic and wetware prosthetics. However, according to all of his evaluation papers, his areas of interest were in lethal applications of such devices. He was also listed as a loose cannon whose moral judgment was highly questionable.
After looking for a while in the side piles, she moved to his desk. There was no computer, though there was a patch cord lying on the desk. From what she had seen of the Agent, he probably patched in directly to an internal computer rather than dealing with the standard desktop. Sighing at the dead end to her investigation she gave a final glance over the room. Nothing of use came to her attention. Narrowing her eyes in thought and biting her lower lip, she tried to come up with some way of delving further into his activities.
He would be able to uncover any attempt at surveillance in his room. He had no close associates, inside or outside of the Technocracy. She could force him to submit to a mind scan, but didn't have enough proof of wrongdoing to justify such a use. Unless, she thought, I created proof. Even as the thought crossed her mind, she squelched it. Traveling down that road of abuse would only make her into that which she fought against. She looked back down at the patch cord.
Suddenly, she began to smile. Leaving his office, she made her way towards her own. She pulled out her cell phone as she entered, hitting a number in its memory. "Hello, Stefan? I have a favor to ask."
May 23rd, 2002 7:10 p.m. Ledescu Residence, Potrero Hill Area, San Francisco
Charles Ledescu walked into his home. He could smell something cooking and assumed Meredith was in the kitchen. His mind was in too much of a haze after the day's events to even think anything snide about his `loving' wife. All he had been able to think about was his late meeting with Roland Jouas.
Suddenly, he vomited noisily into the toilet. After several heaves he finally stopped. Relieved at the loss of pressure, he wiped his mouth with some paper, and then dropped it immediately upon looking into the porcelain receptacle. He let out a terrified cry and launched himself off of the floor. The toilet writhed with fat white worms; at least, that is what they would resemble if worms had gaping teeth-filled maws. Backed up against the wall, he turned to flee the room but was brought up short by the presence of someone standing in his office.
Roland Jouas stared intently at Charles Ledescu, an approving smile on his homely face. He held out a hand and said, "Let's talk about your future here with Magadon, Charles."
Charles felt like a deer caught in the headlights of on-coming traffic. "What the hell is going on?"
The ugly little man smirked as he walked past the executive and into the bathroom. "You're a smarter man than that, Mr. Ledescu. Let's not play coy, shall we?" Roland looked down into the toilet and whistled. He reached down and plucked one of the grubby worms out. Holding it up as though inspecting the thing, he summarily crushed it in his fist. "Been a bit stressed lately, Charles? How are you holding up?"
"What. . ." the other stammered out.
Jouas walked out of the bathroom and came to stand before Ledescu. "I know how it is, Charles. I really do," he said sympathetically. "The long hours of work, and then the pressures to perform better and more effectively. Then there's the wife and kid, demanding your every attention at home, as if you hadn't been doing anything all day long. Their voices nagging and whining." The vile looking man leaned down, clenching his fist tighter with each word.
"Meanwhile," he continued, his gaze meeting the executive's, "the pent up frustration begins to grow painful. It gnaws your stomach until the anger is literally eating you alive. You take drug after drug, trying to find some sort of release. That's were we come in."
Charles Ledescu stared at the horrible grinning man, his sharp teeth seeming to glow in the harsh fluorescent light. "The drugs, they were Formoral?" He tried to grasp what was going on.
"Maybe," the vice president stated simply. "Probably not, but you know as well as I how thoroughly invasive Magadon's reach is. No, Chucky boy, it was your own hate and corruption that made you what you are today. And I bet it was finding out about that little sweet meat boy of yours that sent you right over the edge. Am I right? "
"What am I?" He said, trying to avoid the comment. The executive could feel the churning in his stomach beginning again.
"Why promoted, of course. Welcome to the Devourer's Hand First Team."
A damned formor, he thought bitterly. Throwing his jacket onto a chair in the darkened living room, he fell onto the couch. A blessing from the Devourer Wyrm, he says. I could care less about some mythical entity of destruction. What the hell am I going to do now?
His stomach twisted inside, and he could feel a wave of nausea start up. Jouas had hit on right on the nose with his remark at the end. He figured that the ugly fuck had been listening in on the conversation between him and the agent, or that he had been told prior to Charles going into the meeting. Hearing about it from coworkers was nearly as bad as the fact itself.
He still had a difficult time imagining his son being a cocksucking fag. The mage had to be responsible, had to have used some sort of twisted magic to make Andrew do it. Sure the boy had always been a bit of a Nancy-boy; into art and books and all that shit, but he had at least had several girlfriends. Surely they hadn't all been fakes.
About that moment Meredith walked into the room. She already looked a bit soused. She smiled languidly and sat down beside him. "Why the dour face, love?" she asked in a false petulant voice. "Bad day at work?"
He smelled no alcohol on her breath, so ruled out drinking. Must be pills then. "Oh, you could say that. Dear." He was in no mood to talk to her, or even be in the same room. Just her mere presence was enough to increase the nausea he felt.
"Well, I know how to get your spirits up." She attempted to kiss him, though the action was more sickening than seductive. Her hands slipped down his chest towards his pants, stumbling upon the material on their way down.
Giving her an irritated grimace, Charles grabbed her hands. "I'm really not in the mood, honey." He spoke the terse words through his teeth. "I would however, like to know where Andrew is. Has he come home today?"
She ignored his evasive act and continued trying to kiss his ears and neck. "Don't be silly. And yes, he was here about an hour ago to pick up some clothing. He's staying at his friend Mark's house."
"Enough, Meredith!" He shoved her over to the side of the couch. "I'm seriously not in the mood." His stomach lurched, and he felt the overwhelming need to vomit.
"Well maybe you shouldn't spend all your time at work, then maybe you would be in the mood more than once a year!"
Charles lurched over onto her, holding Meredith's arms pinned to the side. "Do you know how pathetic you are? All you do all day is get pilled up and drink, whining about poor little you! I am sick and tired of your sniveling and disgusting behavior! You were the one who wanted the nice house to impress your gossipy bitch friends! What did I do? I sacrificed everything so that you could become this irritating cunt!"
The woman struggled, fear beginning to glimmer in her eyes. "Charles, stop! You're hurting me."
"Pathetic! Is it any wonder that our kid . . . my son turned into a fudge packer?!" With that his stomach heaved and hundreds of squirming, white worms spewed into his wife's face. Again and again he heaved, expelling all of his pent up rage and hate at her. Her screaming quickly reduced to a sickening gurgling noise, and her frantically scratching nails soon stopped digging trenches into his arms.
Charles slowly stood up, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. Meredith's body twitched beneath the writhing mass of white. He could already make out places where bone was starting to show. Despite everything, he smiled. He felt as though a pressure valve had been released inside; the frustration and anger which he had been keeping inside was reduced to a small voice in the back of his mind.
He looked around the dark room and frowned again. Looking at his wife's body he realized the situation. "Humph, typical of you to leave me with a mess to clean up after, even in death."
May 23rd, 2002 7:45 p.m. Mike's Youth Home, Castro District, San Francisco
Marcus slid down the side of the tub, his arms wrapped around Andrew's lithe body. He soaked in the warmth of the blonde youth's body pressed up against his, and the steaming water that they sat in. The bathroom was filled with the flickering light of multiple pillar candles and dancing shadows on the walls, and the echoing sounds of the two moving in the water resonated in the air.
He laid his head on Andrew's shoulder, smelling deeply of the boy's hair. His fingers traced patterns across the other's naked chest, eliciting a wide grin from youth. "What'cha thinkin' about?"
"Just thinking," Andrew whispered.
"Oh?"
Andrew smiled and twisted between Marcus' legs so that his face was laying upon the other's chest. Feeling the dark haired boy's nude body pressed against his own was the height of bliss for him, but more so because he could feel Marcus' love for him through their bond. "Actually, I was kind of thinking about mom and dad. How I am going to tell them, or what I am going to." He felt a pang of distant pain come from Marcus. He looked up at him and saw a glint of sadness in his eyes blue eyes. "What's wrong?"
Marcus hugged him tightly and kissed him gently on the lips. "Nothing important. I just thought of something."
"What?"
The Cultist smiled warmly. "Something from the past. Don't worry, babe. It's not important, really."
Andrew knew he was lying, but choose not to press the point. "I was thinking I might try to get a job and find an apartment. That way I wouldn't have to worry about them finding out about me."
"Find out what?" Marcus asked with a grin. "That you're a mage, or that you're gay."
The other mage sunk down into the water, laying his head back on Marcus' chest. "Both, I guess. I just . . . I just don't think they could handle the truth right now."
"I understand."
Feeling that their moods were spiraling down, Andrew decided to shift the focus away from the current subject. He moved around until he was sitting on Marcus' lap, splashing water over the edge of the tub as he did so. The other protested playfully.
"Why don't we think on something else for a while?" Andrew gently slid his crotch back and forth over Marcus' lap, stroking the Ecstatic's semi-hard member.
Marcus gave him a roguish grin and leered suggestively. "Really? So what do you suggest?"
Andrew smiled back and slid his hands down the other's sides to his hips. Then leaning forward, he pressed his lips to Marcus', kissing him passionately. Marcus responded in kind with one hand slipping behind Andrew, cupping his ass while he began to stroke the blonde youth's erect cock with the other. A small gasp slipped out of Andrew's mouth as he gave himself over to the feeling of Marcus' warm hands on his body.
Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the bathroom door. Both boys jumped, startled by the unexpected interruption. "Hey," came a voice from the other side of the door. "You know there are others who need to use the bathroom, too."
Andrew laughed, leaning his forehead against Marcus' with a sigh. "Of course."
Marcus groaned in irritated amusement. "Can't you use the other bathroom downstairs?" he shouted at the door.
"There's someone in it," the voice called back.
"Who's in there?" asked another voice.
"The new guy."
"What's going on?" inquired a third voice.
"I think they're making out," said the first one.
"Who?"
"The new guy and Stefan," offered the second voice.
"Alright!" shouted Marcus, throwing a sponge at the door. The thing landed with a wet thump, creating a squeal of laughter from the other side. Andrew joined in with them. Marcus squinted at him mischievously. "Coming?" he asked, squeezing hard on the youth's cock.
"Ah! Ah! Ah!" the other managed to squeak out.
May 23rd, 2002 8:25 p.m. Magadon Pharmaceuticals, Financial District, San Francisco
The hum of computer monitors and fluorescent lighting filled the floor of gray cubicles. Here and there were blank faced employees trying to get ahead in the company by putting in more hours at the office; yet, even though most had spent well over seventy hours a week for the last year or more, they never seemed to change positions. The paper piled up, day after day, and they continued to work, unmindful of time passing them by.
Audra Safavi walked through stark halls, unnoticed by the zombie-like employees. Normally, her brightly colored clothing and hair would have attracted attention to her like a neon sign in the woods, but now days no-one ever noticed her when she didn't want to be. It was one of the many benefits of having Awakened.
She hated the Magadon offices. Ever since she had Awakened the place gave her the creeps. The mindlessness of its workers seemed unnaturally compelled, and beneath the surface was a sense of sickness. However, despite her distaste of the place, she had a lot to gain from coming to the building. Even before becoming a mage with the Cult of Ecstasy, she had been stealing drugs from her father's offices, using them for herself and friends, or selling them on the street for some extra spending cash.
Shortly after she became aware of Reality's true nature, she was caught by Roland Jouas, the company's v.p., as she was pilfering their stock. Admiring her entrepreneur bent, and seeing potential in her abilities, the ugly bastard had given her an offer she couldn't refuse; work for him, or disappear permanently. She took the more life-salient choice. Sure it meant knowingly tainting innocent children and adults. Of course, how innocent could they be if they were already addicted to the stuff before she ever gave it to them? She was just supplying a demand, not pandering for new sales. That was handled well enough by her customers.
She had been working with a man named James Preston in tracking a fellow Cultist, named Marcus Uptmor. He had been one of her mentors upon Awakening. Too bad he prefers the boys, she thought ruefully, he had been great in bed. And though she had nothing against him, business was business. She was being paid good money to report on his activities and inform on where he was at. Audra knew that something bad was likely to happen to him. But hell, better him than me.
James had called her earlier that afternoon, asking her to come to the office to discuss some new business. She agreed to go that evening after a prearranged meeting with a client she had that afternoon. She found it almost ironic that the kid she sold the Tiny to was named James as well. Maybe it was an omen.
She glided around a corner and down a secluded hall which ended in an emergency exit. Looking around first, she quickly traced a small mandala over the door's lock. As she did so, Audra whispered praise to Vajri the Thunderer, focusing the god's control over lightning to short out the alarm. There was a slightly audible click as the door unlocked. Quietly she slipped out the door and into the stairwell.
Reaching the thirtieth floor, she found that the emergency door had been left ajar, just as the Technocrat had told her it would be. She walked through the hallway beyond the stairway. The lights were off except for the few that were always on. She wasn't really surprised, few of the upper management stayed much past six unless they important business to attend. She found the conference room where James had asked her to meet, but it was empty. Figuring that he was late, she looked around the room, snooping a bit before he arrived.
"Find anything of interest?"
The sound of the deep voice startled her. Turning around, she saw the agent standing in the doorway. "I was bored waiting for you to show." There was something odd about the man. The air seemed to shimmer slightly around him, like heat waves over the sidewalk in the summer.
"Sorry, I had something to clean up. Roland heard that you were in need of some extra money."
"Yeah, well even as well as that Tiny stuff of your all's is selling, there still is barely enough profit to pay my bills. Besides," she said pretentiously, "I'm not necessarily working in the safest of environments. I should be getting some sort of compensation for dealing with all those freaks you're creating on the streets."
Agent Preston smiled ingratiatingly as he walked into the room. "Mr. Jouas agrees that you do deserve some sort of payment for your work. That is why he asked me to meet with you."
Audra felt a distinct clenching in her stomach as he said this. She started to chant a rote, but wasn't fast enough. James raised his hand with near inhuman speed and shot of three quick bursts from a small gun. Safavi's body flew back into the wall, gaping holes in her chest and neck gushing blood across everything.
James walked up to the corpse and stared down. He snorted in disgust at the body. "Stupid twat. Maybe if you had gotten your head out of your ass long enough to realize that this is the twenty-first century, not the fucking dark ages, you might have been better able to handle this situation." It was a shame he couldn't have played with her more, but Roland wanted efficiency not style tonight.
Leaving the body behind, he left the room and walked to an office down the hall. Inside sat Charles Ledescu and a technician watching a television showing the conference room. "Did you get it all?"
The tech nodded and rewound the video. Pushing play, the screen reviewed the events; everything was clear except for Preston, whose body seemed out of focus.
"Good. Give me the patch cord." The young man held up a USB2 cord and Preston took it. Reaching up behind his ear, he inserted the tip into a small slot. Suddenly, the video began to scan back and forth as he ran an internal editing program. After a few scans like that the video began to play from the start of the scene. There was Audra Safavi snooping around the room, and then a second figure; yet, instead of James, Marcus Uptmor walked into the room.
"Excellent," Charles stated in appreciation. "But will it fool even your people?"
The agent unplugged the cord. Why would they think to look it over? I'm the one investigating the case. They'll believe whatever I report back to them."
The man nodded; his expression stony. "Well get things ready for the media, you handle the police. We want this to appear as clear cut as possible."
"Should we tell Chris what is going on?" The tech asked.
"No," Charles said flatly. "It will work better for the scene if he truly believes that the Cultist killed his daughter."
The Iterator watched with mild amusement. He had heard about the `cleanup' job done at Ledescu's house. He hadn't counted on the man snapping so easily. If he played his cards right, there would soon be a vacant space at the board meeting, which he intended to fill. The agent nodded in agreement and left to complete his part of the job.
May 23rd, 2002 9:08 p.m. Market Street, Castro District, San Francisco
Walking past the garish lights of the Castro District, James Cross stalked the night. The XTC he bought earlier was starting to wear off. It didn't seem to last long enough anymore. He even tried to extend the effects by drinking some orange juice. He only hoped that the acid would take effect soon. Normally, candy flips had the XTC and acid separated, but somehow the two had been effectively combined in the Tiny's he had been buying.
Outside one of the restaurants, he saw a waifish looking boy, probably no more than fourteen, staring around nervously. His skin seemed to glow in the bright lights, his features all but washed out in the drug induced glare. But the boy's brilliant green eyes caught James' attention.
"Yesss," hissed a quiet voice into his ear. "He isss perrrrfect, iss he not?"
James nodded mutedly. He didn't answer it aloud, he knew that the voices were only in his head. This voice was different from the others, more real somehow. It was as though it spoke to his very soul. The other voices only came as a painful cacophony that made his head hurt. This voice had told him that it would protect him, and give him power over others. After a lifetime of pain, James had liked the idea very much.
"Sssuch tender flessshh he hass, sssuch sssssssssweeeeeet innocccencce." As the voice whispered cajolingly to him, he began to see a shadowy form at his side. Its stick-like form was crouched down, bringing its head to James' own. "Take him!" it insisted. "Treat him asss all little ssssllutss like him desssire to be."
James smiled lustfully as he looked at the youth. He still couldn't make out the youth's face very well. He didn't care, though. The voice was right; no-one was that innocent. And the kid wouldn't be out here this late at night during the week unless he was looking for some action. His cock strained in his jeans as the voice began to whisper again of the things he should do to the boy.
Making his move, he approached the youth, deciding to play the role of the inexperienced teen, seeking someone like himself for his first time. As he neared the kid, the other's face became clearer, showed more angel-like. The voice whispered about how great it would feel to use such a beautiful boy. James could only agree.
"Hey," James said, acting nervous. The boy smiled shyly back as the bane cackled in the back of James' soul.
May 23rd, 2002 10:08 p.m. Mike's Youth Home, Castro District, San Francisco
Andrew and Marcus sat on the couch in the home's living room. The home's residents were already in bed, except for Stefan who was in the kitchen making popcorn. Their earlier attempt at romance interrupted, the two had decided to just wait until they went to bed before trying anything else. Instead, they had spent the evening helping Stefan around the house. The two finally ended up laying together as Marcus idly flipped channels.
"So do you think that Kate's plan will work?" Andrew asked, bring up the subject from her earlier call.
Marcus shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe. Virtual Adepts are cocky assholes, but they're good. Real good. If anyone can hack a cyborg's brain, it would one of them."
"But?" the blonde youth asked, knowing there was more to it.
"But," the Cultist sighed, "It's the getting them to do it that's the trick." Marcus started to say something, but halted before he got a word out.
"What's wrong?" Andrew asked, looking over his shoulder at him.
"Look." Wide eyed, Marcus nodded his head at the television. Andrew felt an uncomfortable feeling flood their bond. The two mages sat up to watch the newscast.
A news reporter was talking to a police officer inside some office building; curious bystanders huddled in the background, camera lights causing their faces to look pale and sickly. Bold letters at the top of the screen declared `Murder at Magadon' while a small ribbon across the bottom of the screen flashed updates. Marcus hit the volume button up a few notches.
". . . were heard at about 8:40 this evening. When some of the cleaning crew came to investigate, they found Ms. Safavi's body in the conference room, shot three times," the police officer finished saying.
Marcus sucked in a small breath of air. "Audra."
One of the reporters spoke up. "Were there any clues found at the scene that you are able to discuss? Any indication of what Ms. Safavi was doing up here?"
"Ms. Safavi's father is a researcher here at Magadon Pharmaceutical. Recently, she had been kidnapped by a small group of drug cultists which has been operating in the area. Since her kidnapping there has been a rash of thefts from the company dealing with one of the PsychDiv projects for the government. We have a security tape that shows her snooping around with one of the known cultists. The two seem to start arguing and then he shoots her."
The newscast cut back to the female anchor. "That was an interview with police Chief Thompson only a short moment ago. KRON has received an exclusive copy of the security tape from the incident. The content is very graphic, and is not intended for viewing by children or those with weak constitutions."
The video changed to show what looked like a conference room from a high angle. The image was in black and white, but clear. Audra was seen walking into the room, snooping a bit before a second individual entered the room. Andrew and Marcus gasped as they saw the dark-haired mage walking into the room, argue with the Safavi and them pull out a gun and shoot her.
"Fuck!" Stefan muttered as he walked back in the room.
"That wasn't me," Marcus muttered in shock.
"How is that possible? You were with me here the whole evening." Andrew said worriedly.
The video cut back to Magadon where Charles Ledescu, Andrew's father was being interviewed. "Dad?" Andrew shouted in surprise.
The two other mages quieted down as Andrew turned the volume up louder. His father's face was harder than the youth had ever seen, and he could sense that something was off.
"The F.B.I. has been called in to handle this situation. Already they have given the name of the individual who shot Ms. Safavi." His father lifted a color photo of Marcus that had been taken at the police station that morning. "The Federal Bureau of Investigation has identified the man as Marcus Uptmor. He is a known member of a subversive drug cult in San Francisco who eluded police capture just this morning."
Reporters began to field questions, but no-one in the room spoke a word. Marcus seemed to be in complete shock, while Andrew just stared at his father's image. Stefan just walked into the kitchen.
"Shit!" Marcus muttered. Then growing panicked, "Shit, shit, shit!" His voice grew louder with each word. He jumped up, and Andrew right along with him.
The blonde turned to the Cultist, trying to calm him down, when something asked by a reporter stopped him and Marcus both. "Mr. Ledescu, is it true that the murder of your wife and the subsequent disappearance of your son earlier this evening are connected somehow with this case?"
"What?" both of the mages exclaimed in unison.
Charles was quiet for a moment. "So far there is nothing conclusive, but evidence has been found linking the two incidences. I really can't comment much more.
"Magadon, though, has been gracious enough to put up a five-hundred thousand dollar reward for any information on the whereabouts of Mr. Uptmor which leads to an arrest. And," his eyes grew wet as he stumbled on his next words. "Andrew, if you are alive, please come home to me safely."
The two stood there in shock, mouths hanging open. Finally, Andrew fell to knees with a thud.
<That's it for Chapter 9, I hope you enjoyed it. The conspiracy increases the stakes, and Andrew, Marcus and the others try to figure out what is going on. Meanwhile, young James reaches a crossroads that will either lead him back to sanity, or send him spiraling into the arms of evil. All in Chapter 10 "When It Rains."
Also, if you like this story, try out my other story in the Science Fiction and Fantasy section called `Shame of Caine.' Set in White Wolf's Vampire: The Masquerade setting, the story details the fall of twin brothers, Gareth and Marion as they are enter the perilous society of the Kindred.
As always, I love hearing from you all. Thanks for your current and hopefully continued support!
Love Liam ^_^ >