Returning back to the present, merely a few days after the Month of Long Fangs had ended, the final push against Anglond was underway. On an island off the coast, obscured by magical fog and storms and in an area of the sea in which it was borderline suicide to navigate without knowing everything about the currents and hazards beneath the surface, the last remaining free citizens of Anglond lay in wait for the undead menace to come. They knew it was not a matter of if the tide of undeath that had poured out of the south would come but merely when it would come, and that day was fast approaching.
The first indication that the dead were on their way was the discovery of amphibious humanoid monsters scouting out the approaches and the beaches. It was difficult to send them back to the sea, as their mix of seductive charms and ferocity with their weapons and magic made for a difficult combo to break. Eventually the melee approach was abandoned in favor of a much less costly ranged approach, but even that was fraught with danger. The wind would suddenly and explosively pick up at seemingly random and often inopportune times and render all magic and arrow fire useless against the monstrous reptile/ fish/ eel/ cephalopod/ arthropod/ woman hybrids from beneath the waves.
In between breaks in the near constant storms came the next indication of an oncoming assault, as clouds of oversized bats the size of small horses began to swarm the skies above the isle and take up roost in the many ruined structures that dotted the island. Even going out to try and fight the massive beasts which had so rudely defiled former places of learning and prayer was dangerous. This was because exiting the safety of the shelters during the time the Fel Bats lay dormant was to put oneself at risk of being slain or abducted by the amphibious female monstrosities that had begun to make the storm-strewn landmass their own during times of severe downpour.
There was a both positive and negative to the next event that took place. The Fel Bats left, which was good, but in their place came even more sea monsters, including ones that seemed to be amphibious versions of Fel Bats. As the numbers of the dark magic tainted monsters continued to climb and the front lines were pushed back farther and farther, there ended up being only one real solution to deal with the ever-growing numbers of the sometimes living, sometimes undead monstrosities that moved like a tide of doom across the isle from the few beaches to the highest points.
There was ultimately no way of knowing when the actual final stand would occur or if the ones who had been taken by the Deep Ones were even still alive and fighting somewhere, but the Royal Family was not willing to take any more chances. They gathered the last exiles from the Anglish Branch of the Luminas Church, the Nobility, the Knights, the Royal Guard, the Royal Marksmen, the Mages and they themselves of the Royal Lineage and did what no King had ever done. They activated a portal and sent themselves deep below the islet and into a massive cavern from which there was not even a single air vent or natural way in or out, only magical apparatuses that generated and purified the air and those that made food and clean water.
There was only one way into and out of the Black Site that housed the worst of the worst from the centuries of Anglond’s existence, and the device they had used had been deliberately sabotaged so that they could only leave, and no one could enter. Now the last surviving Anglish citizens who had not been inducted into the puppeted nation born from Albion’s remains hatched a desperate plan to try and buy themselves enough time to construct a temporary portal to another member nation of the Luminas Confederacy. They would release the inmates and test subjects from within the massive prison complex that they had escaped to and would use their most twisted, wicked and depraved of bastards and bitches to allow the noblest and purest of the Anglish people to escape.
…
“Prisoners, this is a message from The Warden to everyone except for Dave.”
The magical intercom system blasted out a shout from somewhere deep inside the complex and far beyond the reach of murderous animals that were locked in the zoo.
“You are lucky. Today, 50 of you will be able to have a chance to walk free and be given a full pardon for your many, many crimes, of which include your own filthy and deranged existence. This offer does not extend to you, Dave.”
Wild hoots and hollers echoed from behind bars and cell doors and even the muffled cries of fleeting joy could be heard from those who had been bound and made to breathe anesthetic gases to keep their ungodly power in check. There was only one cell from which the cries of hope could not be heard and inside echoed merely the sounds of a man drinking tea and flipping through a newspaper.
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“Up top, far beyond the jail you twisted and foul lot are dwelling in is an invasion of your homeland. There is not a high likelihood that you will survive, but if you wait until the invaders breach into the prison, no one will survive. Not even you will survive in that situation, Dave, you piece of shit.”
Once again there were howls of joy as the chance to kill again was simply too great for some of the inmates and outweighed the high possibility of a brutal and pointless death. Others were not as thrilled as they once were as they had illogically assumed that the task that they were going to be given would be easier. Aside from those two groups there was still the single person in the lowest and most out of the way cell who had begun to solve the newspaper’s crossword puzzle.
“There will be a random drawing of the select few individuals who get their chance at freedom and an unconditional pardon. Only Dave will be exempted from this and all future drawings due to various reasons, mostly because he is an asshole who refuses to do what we want. The rest of you curs will be selected from by a random number generator and will be sent to the surface. If you try to defect to the foe or refuse to fight them the magical bomb implanted into your neck will explode and kill you instantly. Once the foe has been beaten your devices will disintegrate and you will thereby be fully pardoned from all crimes in the past. If it comes to pass that you are unable to defeat the foe that has and will continue to grow its occupation a second group will be sent, and then a third and so on and so on.”
The individual known only as The Warden blathered on for another half hour as the man who was not to be named sat in a large comfy sofa, his feet supported by an ottoman and his cup of tea on a coaster on the side table next to him. ‘Dave’ was not in the least bit concerned about the speech that had already been muffled by the sounds of a record player that sent the sounds of operatic music flowing through his cell and reclined even further on his sofa. After another few hours he had completely lost track of whether the ungodly parody of a certain man had finished speaking and turned down the volume of his record player only to be rudely interrupted.
*BANG! BANG! BANG! *
The cell door was knocked on thrice and a diminutive, bespectacled, overweight little wimp of a man who bore a striking resemblance to what a certain Earth-based Hermit Kingdom’s Dictator would look like if he was a Brit. His glasses, poorly ironed green pseudo-military jumpsuit and goofy hair were enough to cause most people to snicker at him behind his back, but he was not one to let such insults fly, nor was he one to let ‘Dave’ keep his stuff.
“I don’t know how you keep getting these things! Where do they come from?! Who sends them?! How do they get in here when the door is so small?!”
The Warden gestured wildly at the various pieces of furniture and other niceties that adorned the cell that ‘Dave’ was ‘trapped’ in, but as usual ‘Dave’ kept quiet and let the guards either confiscate his possessions or break them apart and then confiscate them. As the guards and Warden left, ‘Dave’ once again looked around. If there was anyone else in the room with him, they would have been shocked to see that the numerous vanity items had not only been immediately replaced but had been replaced by even nicer things than had been there mere moments ago. Sighing to himself, ‘Dave’ once again took a seat and picked up where he left off on his crossword puzzle while muttering under his breath.
“Uncouth louts. Well, let’s see if the returned ‘Abominable King’ is worth some scant service, unlike these easily outwitted fools. Of course, I owe my allegiance to no man or country by any means, but those worthy of my talents will certainly find me a welcome set of hands.”
Picking up a remote control, ‘Dave’ turned on the television and let the news play on while he worked on his puzzle. Each word he finished drew him closer to the answer to his question and the news further reinforced the answer his puzzle led him to.
“A seven-letter word that is the name of a country that everyone says is evil but is actually not totally so and is destined to rule the world with more equality and benevolence than any other existing nation in Europa…. Well there is only one answer, isn’t there?”
And with that last word finished, ‘Dave’ had made up his mind. He picked up a one-way phone and the voice on the other end asked him a question.
“Lord Wolfenstein, do you, and by proxy we have a handler?”
The Gallant Robin-Hood Who Runs the Underworld answered.
“Tell me, what do you think of aiding the Evil Empire from ages past as it returns with a vengeance colored in tints and shades of justice? Intriguing, no?”
“…”
“Well, enough dawdling. Do tell the Abominable King that I will be coming for a visit, will you?”
And with that, the phone fell to the ground and vanished, just like the rest of the furniture, luxuries and the prisoner himself. In fact, the only trace of his previous presence there was the miniscule explosive that had been embedded into his neck that now rolled around like a grain of rice on the floor of the cell.