Smokestacks bellowed putrid vapors, puffing the ebony plague of pollution out into the world. The metal housing of the factory chimed with the nonstop clockwork churning of industry. Not one break was taken, not one soul was seen roaming the outside of the cold, heartless complex.
A crudely constructed chain-link fence was erected around the perimeter of the complex, along with a few guard towers, which were occupied by a few individuals in black clothing, which obscured most of their bodies. They stood still as stone, not even twitch to be seen.
One road ran up to the only gate leading in or out, of course they weren’t going to use the gate. They’d be spotted in an instant. There was still no plan mapped out for execution, but it was still early in the day. There was plenty of time to form a plan.
Tentin stepped backwards from the large boulder he was hiding behind. He wiped his hands on his slacks. His white dress shirt was rolled up at the sleeves and it disappeared behind the grey vest he sported on this fine day. The sun was high in the sky while a slight breeze cooled all those beneath its reign.
“It looks too quiet for me. There should be more traffic, or at least patrols, maybe some sort of workers walking about.” Tentin turned back to the factory from his mountainous hideout. He brought his binoculars to his face, “I can’t see anything marking this as our factory. No robots, no Nazis, nothing.” He looked back at Lord Blud, who was sitting at a portable foldout chair and table. “You sure this is the right place?”
Lord Blud sipped from his small tea cup. He set it down and rubbed his temple, letting an inaudible sigh escape his lips. “I can’t see if it is or if it is not. This is the place that Sam had been able to pull from one of Hans’ agents. If there is any doubt here, then it is placed on her shoulders.” Lord Blud took another sip, “Using her past excursions as an example, I highly doubt she is wrong.”
“I agree with you there.” Tentin shrunk away from the rock again and joined the British man at his small table. He flopped down on the empty seat across the small, propped up table. “So, any idea on what our approach is? We certainly don’t have the man power to take this place down. You must have some idea on what we should do here.”
Lord Blud gazed upwards. He knew the sky was there. He could feel the sun beating down on his skin, but he was cursed to never see any of these beauties again. The small things he took for granted were the biggest loss to him. He looked back down to Tentin. His heart beat strong; this was a good sign for the fight to come.
“First we must be willing to risk our lives for this venture. Are you content on this fact?” Lord Blud raised an eyebrow, one hand on his teacup, the other on his saucer.
Tentin leaned back in his chair. The wood squeaked under his weight. “I think we all are. None of us would be here if we didn’t expect to die. It’s a hazard of our jobs, no?”
Lord Blud smirked. He was warming up to this rube. “All right then.” He took another sip from his warm brew. “Explosives are the answer to your question. We blow this place sky high, so to speak.”
“Ah, and I’m guessing that we won’t be leaving this Hans guy to chance. You going to make sure he is dead?” Tentin scratched the stubble sprouting from his chin.
The teacup rattled as Lord Blud set it down on the table, “Right. We must be sure he is dead this time. He escaped all those years ago and now the world suffers at what he has accomplished. We must confirm that he is dead, lest he should start something like this again.”
“Hmm.” Tentin stood from his chair. He was all good for killing Hans. His grandpa had fought in the war. He was a lucky one that came home in one piece. Tentin could always remember his grandpa telling his war stories to him. The Nazis were a nasty bunch of depraved sadists. It would be a hell of a time continuing his grandpa’s work. He only wished he could head back home himself and tell his grandpa he was able to take a few of the kraut bastards down as well. Tentin made a mental note to stop by his grandpa’s grave when he got stateside.
The silence was interrupted by the rustling of some thick brush nearby. Tentin’s hand shot down to his gun. It was a reflex ingrained into his body over years of service.
A figure dressed from head to toe in thick black garb emerged from the brush. A heavy pair of black goggles covered the eyes, while the rest of the face was covered with a black facemask. The figure moved closer to the group and Tentin relaxed.
“You comfortable under all that?” Tentin pointed at the thick mass of clothing around the figure.
The muffled voice of Andrelle retorted from under her getup, “No, smells like a dirty sock, but hey, it beats turning into an ash pile.” She made her way to some shade under a tree and began to stare at the factory without saying another word. Being in the direct sunlight burned her skin, even under all the clothing. Her eyes watered with the constant rays of the sun beating down upon them. She couldn’t stand to even be under the sun’s rays, let alone enjoy them.
Tentin moved closer to her and held out a canteen of water, “You okay?”
Her eyes scanned the factory for any signs of Red. “He’s in there somewhere, and I’m going to find him. Whatever it takes.” The lifeless black glass turned to stare at Tentin, “And I’m going to kill that bitch who took him from me.”
A slight shutter crept down Tentin’s spine. He nodded and gave Andrelle the canteen, as well as a straw for her to drink through. He decided it was his best interest to let her be for now. He turned back to Lord Blud, “Where’s the big fella?”
The breeze picked up again. The small clouds that dotted the sky began to cruise away off to their next destination. The peaceful day seemed like a strange occurrence while they were just a mile away from a factory producing death machines like a Ford assembly line pumping out the latest model of transportation.
“Sketching. He’s sketching just beyond the tree line there.” Andrelle pointed her black gloved finger past the small clearing.
Lord Blud poured another cup of tea after a short search of the table. “It’s his only pastime activity. He has become quite the artist. At least others have told me so.” He chuckled at himself for a short moment. His blindness had become another part of him. He woke in the morning like any other day. It was a simple truth he had accepted early on. “He’s never too far from me at any given time. He has more in common with you that way. He shadows me like you shadow Sam, no?”
Tentin nodded. He wished he was with Sam at this moment, instead she wanted him to keep an eye on Andrelle and Lord Blud, not that the blind man would be such a problem, but the Lady Vamp was the one Sam needed constrained. She could take off any moment and try and assault the factory herself.
Tentin took another glance at Andrelle to make sure she was still with them. She stood in the shade, still gazing through her googles, watching the factory like a hawk staking out its meal. He decided to take another go at Lord Blud, plopping down in the small wooden chair. He wondered what Sam was up to. She had left with Brockly and the new comer, Keitha the druid, and went to find any more vantage points on the factory.
Tentin scratched his head and decided to ask Lord Blud a question, “So, any war stories you’d be willing to share?”
Lord Blud sat down his cup and smiled, “Where to start?”
Twigs snapped under boots while black smoke continued to take to the sky. Rocks tumbled down the hillside as they came loose from the ground, cracking against the stone beneath them with each hit.
Sam held her hand back, pushing Keitha against a rock. “Please, try not to do that again.” Sam raised an eyebrow at the druid. “Alright?”
Keitha nodded quickly, swallowing the lump in her throat. She was new to all this scouting business. She was new to this business in general. She wasn’t one to kill or maim people because she was told to. She never got herself into a situation that called for her to use her powers for harm. She mostly just traveled forest to forest, living amongst the trees and animals, freely exploring the world. Her first taste of action was when she was taken by the cult and brought to the church for sacrificing. She was terrified beyond belief, trying her hardest to keep her cool.
Keitha had contact with regular humans before, plenty of times, but they usually just ignored her or called her an eccentric. Her blue tattoos across her body warded against most human contact. She had never met a human that didn’t care about the way she looked, and she never met a human that mocked her ability to turn into an animal. It was the strangest thing she had seen when Sam hadn’t given her a second thought when she came forth about being a druid.
The druid straightened out her shirt, dusting off the dirt from the rock Sam had pushed her up against. Sam was unusual indeed. Keitha had been around life all her existence. She could feel the life force in the plants and rocks, coursing in rivers and streams, every animal under the sun’s influence, and even those hidden from it, carried a life force, and Sam’s was different than any human she had seen. She wasn’t sure if Sam knew about this difference or not, it was kind of a strange subject to bring up to those who weren’t druid kind.
“You stay here.” Sam turned to Keitha, who in turn bumped into Sam while she was lost in her thoughts.
“Sorry.” Keitha took a step back and smiled awkwardly.
A small sigh escaped Sam’s mouth. “Just stay here with Brockly.” Sam nodded and trudged off into a large patch of trees just beyond a small hill.
Keitha blushed and smiled a little. She kind of liked this Sam lady. Sam was one of a kind, just like herself. Maybe that was why she was here? Maybe she was drawn to Sam’s life force.
The wind swept through Keitha’s dark hair. She shut her eyes and let the wind sweep around her. She thanked the Earth in her native tongue and held her hands out. She twirled in a circle, her hands feeling the breath of the Earth. She opened her eyes and held out her hand. A small yellow flower fell gently in her palm. With a quick motion she placed it behind her ear. She turned to Brockly, who was watching her with a smile on his face. “What is it?” She questioned him.
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He turned his head away from her, “You just remind me of someone I used to know. She loved to do the same thing.” Dark circles still occupied the area under his eyes. His black suit was dirty and stained, but he refused to change it until he was clean of his addiction.
The past few days he had constantly exercised to keep his mind from wandering into dark corners. The Drow he had killed were innocent of their father’s sins, but it was the only thing that made sense to him at the time. Kill them all, and his love would return. He let his delusions cloud his thoughts.
“You’ll find her again. I wouldn’t worry too much.” Keitha smelled a flower she plucked from the mountainside.
Brockly snapped out of his mind and chuckled, “And how do you know who I’m talking about? We just met.” He took a step closer to the druid.
“She’s one of the old ones, isn’t she? Connected to the world, just like my kind is. I can feel all those connected.” Keitha snatched something from the wind and held it close to her. “I just feel you will see her again.” She leaned closer to Brockly. “Just as sure as the world will turn once more.”
Brockly scoffed. “Yeah, I’ve been looking for her for some time now, with no success either. Sam pulled me from my pit of despair, but I doubt she can do better than me.” He crossed his arms and leaned backwards.
“Why would you doubt her? She hasn’t let you down in the past.” Keitha stepped even closer to Brockly.
“True, but…” Brockly tried to interject, but Keitha cut him off.
“Sam has already helped you, whether she knows it or not.” Keitha held out her hand. A dark blue flower petal sat in her palm, but to Brockly, it might as well have been a grenade.
He was speechless. The only one who knew that was his love’s favorite flower was him. His arms slowly reached up and grabbed the flower petal. This was no coincidence. This had to be fate. She was talking to him. His love was reaching out to him. He held the petal close to his chest and held back his tears.
“You must let go.” Keitha pressed herself up against his body. “To find her, you must first let her go. Redeem yourself.” The sigils tattooed on her body started to glow.
The rustling of branches and the snaps of twigs interrupted the scene as Sam reemerged from over the hill. She looked on the druid girl pressed against the teared up Brockly and wondered what was going on, but as her experience in such matters had implied, she probably wouldn’t understand what was going on. “Ahem.” Sam coughed slightly to get their attention.
Keitha turned back to Sam, her blue sigils dampening out. “Sam!”
Sam was taken aback by her enthusiasm. She trudged down the hill, “I found what I was looking for. There’s a sewer system around the back of the factory. We can take a note from the less than lovely mutants and head up into the factory unnoticed. If we keep our surprise, then we can end this Nazi son of a bitch tonight.”
“Delightful.” Keitha placed her hands together, receiving strange looks from Sam. The druid still didn’t know how these people reacted to good news. It seemed like they were as excited as a cup of black coffee. “I guess?” Keitha raised an eyebrow to get a response from Sam.
“Let’s get back to the others.” Sam trudged past Brockly, her axe strapped to her back swaying as she stepped. She patted Brockly on the chest, “What’s wrong with you? Haven’t said much.”
Brockly caressed the petal in his hand, remaining silent. This was a clue he was looking for. This was a step closer to his goal. He looked back at Sam. “Nothing. Let’s take this factory down. I’ve got your back.” He straightened his back and held his head high for once in the past year.
Sam smiled and smacked him on the chest again, “Nice to have you back, Brockly.” Sam took lead and kicked a rock aside with her combat boots.
Keitha fell in behind Sam before Brockly could. She wanted to be closer to her, plus she got a great view of her fearless leader. “Hey Sam!” Keitha ran up to her side. “Any tips you can give me for what’s coming next?”
Sam scrunched her eyebrows together, “Um, yes I guess. Just don’t get killed.”
“Ahh.” Keitha nodded as she followed Sam off into the distance.
Brockly placed the petal in his pocket. He was happy for the first time in a long time.
“Ah! Now we can talk tactics.” Lord Blud turned his head in the direction of the approaching party. The only way he could tell their numbers was from the beats of their hearts. “What did you find, Sam?”
All eyes in the camp looked on Sam. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and gazed upwards at the sun. She shielded her eyes with her hand from the sun’s bright rays. “It’s getting late. We won’t have the time to set up an attack by tonight.” She looked back down at Lord Blud, and then she trailed her gaze across everyone around her. “But we need to strike at night. It will give us the advantage we need. Plus, Andrelle isn’t any good to us during the day. She looks like she should be driving a buggy in post-apocalyptic Australia.”
A muffled sarcastic laugh came from the dark dressed vampire.
“Anyway, I found a sewer system that leads into the factory, probably where they pump out the refuse from making robots all day. That is the lead we need to look into. I feel the quieter we enter, the better.” A black bird fluttered up to the top of a nearby tree, catching Sam’s gaze instantly. Sam casually glanced around trying to find the Necromancer. He knew where they were, but she had no clue where the Raven was lurking about. A shiver danced down her spine.
“A distraction would go a long way.” Lord Blud looked over at the irregular heartbeat coming from Sam. He smiled at the uniqueness shown in her. He doubted the girl even knew of her unique traits. “We draw out any guards that will be patrolling the perimeter.”
“But we would have to strike then, and swiftly.” Tentin stood from his rickety chair. “We can’t investigate the sewer line with a distraction. They will step up security and were worse off than we are now.” Tentin inched closer to Sam, “If we cause a distraction, we need to be ready to act. Every day we spend out here is another day they can stumble upon us by accident. If we are to do this, we should push the attack tonight.” Tentin folded his arms and looked around the array of faces looking upon him. “I say we attack tonight, anyone have objections?”
The muffled voice from behind the cascade of black cloth spoke up, “I say we hit them tonight. I have a score to settle with the old bitch with the long hair.” Andrelle smashed her fist into the tree nearby, “She’s mine.”
Brockly looked at Sam, “I’m with you. Whatever your plan is, I’ll stick with it.”
Keitha nodded in agreement, “Me too.”
Sam looked over at Lord Blud. He was patiently sipping his tea, not a peep from him the whole time. Normally he would object to such a hasty measure. Sam was wondering what he was thinking.
Lord Rupert Blud set down his tea cup, “I say we attack tonight. There’s no point in sneaking all the way into their base to do some recon. We might as well blow the place sky high while we are inside.” He turned his blind eyes to rest on Sam, “But it’s your call. Do what you think is best.”
Sam looked around at her party. Their lives were in her hands, and if she messed up, some of them would die tonight. Her decision wasn’t an easy one. Most of them wanted to strike tonight, but it could prove a fatal venture. She was thrust into the spot of leader in an instant. The party around her must have great respect for her if they were to place their lives in her hands. Sam would have to make up her mind quickly.
She grabbed the axe from her back and swung it around a few times, gripping it tightly in her hands. “Alright.” She stepped in the middle of the group, “Let’s hit them tonight. Show these Nazi scum how we treat monsters.”
“Yeah!” Tentin shouted. “We should get to work unloading Lord Blud’s explosives. We’re going to need all we can carry to level this hunk of junk.” He pointed to the factory behind him.
Brockly followed Tentin down the small recently trodden trail, “I’ll give you a hand.”
Sam quickly spoke up, “I will handle the distraction. Once we can sneak through the sewers, we can hit them up front, pulling them away from our entry.” She looked up at the black bird perched above her in the tree, a faint glow of green sparked in its eye.
Lord Blud nodded, “I will leave it to you.” He clapped out loud and in an instant the Ginger rustled through some bushes, his sketchbook in hand. “Let’s help those two with the explosives. I don’t want them blowing us into fertilizer before we can take down Hans.” The Ginger nodded and helped his benefactor through the thick brush after Tentin and Brockly.
Andrelle resumed her gaze on the factory. Red was in there somewhere, and she was going to find him. Her hand glided to the knife on her belt. She was going to kill the woman, who stole Red from her, then she would kill Harold Bessinger, and then she would kill Ra, and every other vampire lord on this planet. She promised herself this.
Sam watched the black bird flutter away from camp. She turned to Keitha, “Stay here and make sure Andrelle doesn’t run off.” Sam followed the bird through the trees as it fluttered away.
“But where are you going?” Keitha inched closer to Sam. She was uncomfortable around the vampire alone.
“I have to take care of the distraction.” Sam smiled at the druid, “It won’t take long.” She soon disappeared into the forest.
Sam brushed away a branch from her face. Before her was the gaping mouth of a cave, forever open to the world outside. Inside sat the man, if she could call him a man, which she needed to meet. Yet again, she needed his help. He was always there for her when she was in need, stalking her like a guardian angel, only he was more of an angel of death and decay. She couldn’t quite figure out why he kept helping her over and over again. He never gave her any ounce of reason for doing so.
The hunched over man sat in the darkness of the cave’s mouth. The black bird from before sat on his shoulder as he hunched over, resting his elbows on his knees. He looked up at Sam as she approached him.
“I see you are to bring destruction down upon that fortress of industry.” He sat up straight, his spine popping as each vertebrae straightened out. “It seems like a risky venture to me.” He stood and held his finger in the air, “But oh contraire, you always seem to come out on top of every predicament you find yourself in. So I bet a pretty penny you will come out of this alive. Your companions though, who knows.” He shrugged and leaned against the crude surface of stone that was the wall of the cave.
Sam stood her ground outside the cave, mostly because the closer she got, the worse the smell was. She shifted her weight onto one leg, her hip moving outwards, “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Doesn’t mean I won’t get a broken bone or two. And my friends can handle themselves. They have before and they will again.”
The Raven chuckled, his bird smiling as well. “And if I heard correctly, you need me to create a distraction?” He tilted his head to one side, the light of the sun glinting off his lifeless eyes.
Sam nodded. She needed him to be the distraction. He was not only powerful enough to take on any of the robots or cyborgs himself, but he also had a knack for staying alive through the worst injuries imaginable.
“Because I won’t die?” He laughed again, “All right, I will do it. Say no more. Tonight I will waltz up to their gate and give them a performance of a lifetime!” He posed, holding his cane high in the air.
Sam couldn’t help but smile at the Necromancer. “Thanks. I guess I owe you one again.” She turned to leave when he spoke up.
“Just be ready for what’s inside. I can smell the death from here.” His voice became a low grumble. His words hit Sam hard as she disappeared back into the trees.
The Raven turned to the cave behind him. “Is it all as you planned?”
The shadowy figure emerged from deep in the darkness of the caves interior. The sun shone off his white suit. He adjusted his eyepatch over his right eye as the left gazed upon the Necromancer with its endless pit of black void. “It is all about to come together. They take out the Nazi threat, and I get my hands on Die Glocke.”
The Raven crossed his arms. “What use is this machine to you? Metal is but a speck of dust compared to your power.”
“It is not what the machine can do that is of use to me, my dear companion, but what powers it is a source of limitless energy.” Mr. Bartlett smiled as he passed the Raven, “Come, we must ready ourselves. Others will be here shortly to try and claim the treasures inside the factory.”
With a slight push, Harold nudged the glasses up his nose. He looked down upon a thick metal factory spewing out waste into the atmosphere. This was it. This was the location of the psychic. The old man had found the location of Andrelle’s husband, the psychic, and now Harold was here to ratify his mistakes. The old man was a little hard to find, and it took a few days, as well as a hefty amount of cash to coax the old man into working for Harold. Alexander was his name, he was a stubborn old kook, and it wasn’t easy to sway him to do so, but the results were outstanding.
Andrelle would be here somewhere. She would be close to her husband without a doubt, and that was when he would strike. He would wait till the night when he could sneak into the factory and gut her, righting the wrongs he was responsible for and regaining Ra’s respect.
His heart began to beat faster. He could hardly control his excitement. He was soon going to kill again and he was happy for it. He felt a multitude of sensations flow through his body. For once in his life, he felt like he had found his calling. He had found what made him happy in his short and miserable life. He would kill. He would be happy.