The hooded gang members stepped smoothly past me, in between both Max and Franz, and moved through the doorway into the house we were holding the meeting in. Strangely, even in the light, the hoods shadowed all their faces and I wasn’t able to make out any of their features. About the only thing I could make out was that the baggy clothes they wore were in worse shape than I expected, almost ragged in some places. Their hands were all dark as well, almost like they had spent the day before coming here buried up to their elbows in soot.
Christof, the youngest of us here tonight, sat partway up the stairwell across from the entryway. Shotgun casually laid across his lap, he was there to make sure the other gang did not decide to come in guns blazing. As far as I could tell, the gang members I was following didn’t even spare him a glance. One did pause, however, to remain standing at the base of the stairs as the rest moved along into the living room where Wilhelm likely waited by now.
The rest of us stepped into the living room, the four remaining gang members leading the way. My part done, I hung back with Max and Franz at the entryway. In the room I could see Janik standing behind the boss, while Oskar loomed at Wilhelm’s left hand. The chairs had been pushed back to rest against the walls, while a small table with a number of kinds of good, German beer sat in the middle of the room. With my mouth as dry as it was, I wanted one of those Pilsners, though I’d have to wait until after. While one of our visitors remained standing next to me, the other three stepped up to mirror the positions of Wilhelm, Janik and Oskar.
“Welcome,” Wilhelm said, raising his arms in greetings. “Please, help yourselves to a drink and we can get started.”
Rather than move to the table, our visitors seemed to exchange eye contact under their hoods. I could physically feel the room growing more tense at their lack of movement, despite Wilhelm’s invitation to take a drink. I was incredibly aware of the gang member who was uncomfortably close to my side.
“Drink?” the leader asked after the uncomfortable pause.
“Yes,” Wilhelm responded, “its customary to share a drink before getting down to business. It builds up a measure of trust, and shows both sides good faith in striving to make peace.”
“Ah,” the leader said, stretching the word out over several seconds, “I believe you misunderstand. This meeting was to establish peace, yes? Let me show you the peace my lord offers you.”
While Wilhelm looked somewhat confused at the question, which turned to anger as the other leader finished talking, I sensed danger immediately. A burst of flame from some sort of weapon flared out from the gang leader at Wilhelm, quickly setting him on fire. Seeing him falling backwards with a cry of agony, both Janik and Oskar stood stunned for the briefest of moments at the sudden violence. From across the table were flung two long, dark blades, though by chance one glanced aside off the top of a beer bottle. While the first sank to the hilt in Janik’s neck, the other only gashed Oskar’s arm on the way by to hit the wall behind them. Everything happened quickly after that.
In the process of spinning to my left, I barely dogged a thrusting knife from the gang member who had stopped to stand next to me. A high-pitched scream of pain came from out of sight on the stairs. While concerned for Christof, I had my own problems to deal with at the moment. Blocked by my bulk from engaging with my opponent, both Max and Franz rushed from the room to go to the aid of Christof. Though I knew it was the right move, I could barely take care of myself right now.
I dodged another sequence of slashes at my face and neck. So quick was my opponent moving that even my frantically backpedaling was only barely enough to stay ahead of them. Even then, they traced lines of fiery pain across both my arms. I was so focused on preventing them from taking a deeper wound that I didn’t have the time or focus to try to pull out my own knife, let alone the pistol still holstered at my side.
A shout from Gregor came from within the kitchen, followed by the boom of a shotgun. Swearing in a language I could not make out came from behind me, but whatever was said was enough to briefly distract my opponent. Knowing I was outclassed, I seized the opportunity to charge them. Putting my head down, I tackled them hard across the middle. They were quite a bit lighter than I expected, and a bit thinner under their clothes too. Rather than bulling them over, I ended up knocking them up into the air to crash into the opposite wall. Their brief grunt of pain cut off with a thud as they hit.
Ignoring them as they landed in a heap, I pivoted back to the other three enemies in the room. One was down in a heap, the clear target of the shotgun blasts I’d heard from Gregor. Apparently it hadn’t been enough though, as they looked to be in the process getting back up. The other two were advancing on Gregor and Oskar, both of whom were covered in blood and had been knocked prone on the ground by Wilhelm. Janik had managed to pull himself part way towards the kitchen as he bled out on the floor. Before I could move in their direction, Wilhelm’s smoking body shifted as he used a bloody hand to pull a weapon from his pocket.
Grenade.
“Fuck you!” With a great gasp of effort he got those words out, before mustering all his remaining strength to roll it across the floor at the enemy gang members.
I pivoted and dove backwards out of the room, towards the hallway and the stairs that Max and Franz had rushed to. As I flew through the air, the grenade went off with a roar. I felt the heat and some of the shrapnel cut into the back of my legs, but I was lucky and avoided most of the blast. When my ears quit ringing, I shifted from where I was laying on the floorboards to look back into the living room. Only smoke and carnage greeted my eyes.
Wilhelm must have pulled the pin previously, as it went off right as it stopped at their feet. From the carnage, it might have been designed to take out an armored vehicle. The gang member who had been in the process of getting back up was very clearly dead, laying as he was in multiple flaming pieces. The other two were down as well, though only one of them unmoving. As I watched, the leader started trying to push himself back up.
What the hell was this guy made of?!
Coming to my senses, I struggled for a moment with the gun holstered at my side, only now finding time to pull it free. Finally getting a grip, I flicked the clasp free with a bloody finger and pulled the pistol out, aiming it back into the room. Shaking, I tried to line it up with the leader, who by this point was already to his knees and starting to stand, hood blown back off his head. As I finally got the sight in line with his head, I made eye contact with my enemy.
Greyish skin, tinted blue. White hair to his shoulder, marred by the dirt and blood of the fight. Long, tapered ears coming to points framed his face. Red eyes stared at me in anger and in hate. He opened his mouth and yelled something, making to thrust a hand in my direction.
But I didn’t give him a chance to complete the motion.
The gun bucked once, twice in my hand. The first bullet caught him in the jaw, twisting his face to the left as it hit. The flash of pain in his features as his jaw deformed went blank in death as the second bullet caught him in the temple. The… whatever he was dropped to the floor and ceased to move.
For a few moments, or maybe an hour, I laid there without a coherent thought in my head. Just a slight buzzing, like a fly just out of sight of the corner of my vision. Irritating. Ignoring it as best I could, I simply watched the smoke as the flames ignited by the grenade began to spread to the rest of the room. When a hand grabbed my shoulder from behind, I immediately grabbed it with my free hand and tried to pull my latest opponent to the ground.
“Shit, Jakob!” a familiar voice swore, jarring me back to the reality of the situation, “It’s me, Max.”
“Max?” I asked, still somewhat shell-shocked.
“Yes,” Max responded, “I need your help with Franz. He’s hurt bad.”
Staggering to my feet, I could see Max was barely in better condition than me. His shirt was wet with blood, and the hand I hadn’t tried to twist off was firmly pressed to his side, trying to keep pressure on a long cut. Looking beyond him, I saw Franz lying unconscious with several wounds next to another dead…thing. The same long ears, white hair, and grey-blue skin as the leader had. Even in death, how inhuman he looked was still jarring. I avoiding saying the word in my head only through my concern at the state Franz was in.
“Shit,” I echoed Max without thinking. “I think there might be a first-aid kit under the bathroom sink. Grab it and I’ll patch him up as best I can.” I made eye contact with the still standing twin, “He’ll need a doctor though. And soon.”
Max nodded tiredly, wincing as he did so. “I think we all will.”
While he hurried towards the bathroom in search of the medkit, I got down on my knees at Franz’s side to inspect his wounds. At first glance he had looked to me to be a lost cause, but closer showed most of the wounds to be like the injuries I had taken in fighting with my own knife-wielding assailant. The only worrying wound was a deep stab into the meat of his thigh.
Remembering some half-forgotten first-aid training I had gotten years ago, I undid my belt and pulled it loose. Muttering a soft apology to Franz, who of course did not respond as he was unconscious, I fit the belt over his thigh just above the wound and cinched it as tight as I could. Hopefully that would help slow the flow of blood. Right as I got it secured, Max was back with the first-aid kit.
Stolen story; please report.
“Hand me whatever gauze is in there,” I told him. “I need to pack the wound until a doctor can look at him.”
“Here,” Max handed it to me, along with some disinfectant, “probably use that first, though.”
Nodding my thanks, I cleaned the wound as best I could, then pushed some of the gauze inside before wrapping the rest around the leg to hold it secure. I knew it wasn’t the best thing, but like my belt it might be just enough to get him to a proper doctor. I glanced again at the other cuts, making sure I hadn’t missed any other deep ones, but they looked alright for now. Not good, but at least not as bad either.
“What the hell is going on?” Max asked, eyes fixed on the creature lying dead on the floor next to his brother. He tentatively reached out and tugged on one of the dead things ears. It was firmly attached to the dead man’s head.
“I know it sounds crazy,” I started saying, unable to halt the words, “but I think we just fought elves of some sort.”
“Elves?”
“Yeah, you know,” I continued, making some vague hand gestures, “long lives, associated with magic.” There were a lot of myths about them, especially from Northern Europe, but I reined in my desire to babble at the moment when I saw the look on Max’s face.
“I know what fucking elves are,” He said angrily. “What I meant is what the fuck are supposed mythical beings doing here, and why the hell did they just try to kill us all?!”
“No idea,” I shrugged. The heat was starting to build at my back as the fire spread. I turned back to the burning room, gesturing to it as I did so. “We’ll have to find that out later, though. This house is soon going to be an inferno at the rate the fire is spreading. We should go.”
Staring at the spreading flames as well, Max nodded. “Help me get him up and we can get out of here.”
Propping his unconscious brother up to get a better grip, I asked, “What about Christof?”
Max grabbed his brother under the arms and hoisted him up, then over his shoulder with my help, “Dead. That bastard,” he thrust his chin at the dead elf on the floor, “chased him up the stairs and split him open. It looked like he bled out quick.”
A deep feeling of sadness sank into my chest. While I’d been growing gradually closer to the rest of the Night Wolves, the loss of Christof was especially hard. He had been the first to welcome me into the gang, and the only one who really understood my struggle to come to terms with my new criminal life. A college dropout too, Christof had joined the gang after being unable to find any work to support his ailing mother. Surprisingly his mother had been ok with it, as like most people in the Night Wolves territory she had begrudgingly acknowledged that Wilhelm and his gang were the best of a bad situation.
Given the fact that we had just fought and killed beings that were not supposed to exist at all outside of books and myth, I’d say that bad situation was going to be the extreme understatement of the year.
“Alright,” I helped Max settle his brother across his shoulders, “I’ll be right behind you.” I looked back into the living room, not liking the odds for the others, “I just want to check.”
While his expression was void of all hope, Max still nodded. “Don’t take too long. I’ll meet you by your car down the street.”
He staggered to the door, weighed down with his brother as he was, and went outside. Honestly, given how loud everything had been, I was surprised that there were no cops or noisy neighbors out there already. Well, perhaps I shouldn’t be. The cops had been steering clear of most of the rundown neighborhoods the past few months, and even the people who lived here would know better to get involved in gang violence.
Pulling my shirt up over my mouth to help with the smoke, I stepped back into the living room, quickly making my way over to bodies. As I thought earlier, Janik was dead from the knife that had lodged itself in his neck. Gregor and Oskar had caught some of the blast from the grenade as well, though not much, so I had hope that one or both would still live. They were dashed when I saw how much damage the elf’s fire weapon had done. They were dead. Wilhelm himself had lost one of his legs below the knee, and with all the fire damage his upper torso and face were a mess as well.
You can imagine my shock when Wilhelm raised a hand missing two fingers and shakily beckoned me closer.
I rushed to the old man’s side, grasping his questing hand in my own. Completely ignoring the blood, I squeezed it tight, hardly believing that he still was alive given his injuries.
“Jakob?”
“Yes, Boss?”
“Oskar?”
That one word question conveyed hope and fear in equal measure. His eyes were shut, likely damaged by the flames or grenade, so he wasn’t able to see Oskar’s condition for himself. His son’s vacant eyes starred up at the ceiling, a look of pain permanently etched on his face.
“I’m sorry, Boss.”
At my words, Wilhelm seemed to deflate even further. He pulled his wounded hand free from my own, then held it up in front of my face. Wilhelm straightened the finger that held a gold ring with the icon of a wolf on it.
“Take my ring to Karl…” he said, voice growing softer, “he’ll know… what to do.” A long few laboring breaths before he continued, his words growing quieter. “Damn buzzing…where is that…coming…”
To see the large German man reduced to this brought tears to my eyes. While I hadn’t agreed with everything Wilhelm had done, or what he stood for, the fact remained that he had taken care of me, as he had taken care of so many others, when no one else would have spared even a second glance.
“I will.” I squeezed his hand firmly, knowing he couldn’t see the tears in my eyes. “Thank you. For everything.”
A minute later and he was gone.
I pulled the ring Wilhelm had indicated off of his finger. While I had heard of Karl, I’d never met him in person. Hopefully the Thiel brothers would know where I could find him.
I started coughing. The fire had spread to the furniture set next to the wall, and the broken bottles of alcohol were certainly not helping the situation.
Getting back to my feet, I made my way as quickly as I could out of the room. While the fire wasn’t bad yet, I knew with no firefighters coming any time soon, it wouldn’t be long until the house was up in flame. A ground my teeth at that fact, it almost upsetting me as much as the violence tonight. We were truly forgotten by the rest of the city out here.
A blue-grey hand grabbed my ankle in a vice grip, scaring the shit out of me.
I lashed downwards instinctively, my fist smashing down into the unseen face of the elf that I had been fighting earlier. Recently returned to consciousness, they had grabbed me, only to be knocked out again. I’d have chuckled if I hadn’t been so full of grief. That and the smoke that was starting to sear my throat.
I’m not proud of this, but I almost left the unconscious elf there on the floor. Their leader, after all, had come ready to burn us all alive based on what he had done to Wilhelm and the others. An agonizing moment of indecision caused me to hesitate, however. No. I wouldn’t leave them here to burn to death on the floor. That would not be right and, perhaps just as importantly for the moment, they likely had information on just what the hell was going on.
I bent over and grabbed them under the arms, moving to pick them up in a princess carry. Again, I was surprised by how light they felt. As soon as they were situated, and I knew I wouldn’t fall over from carrying them, I left the house. Taking a moment to orient myself, I staggered down the street to where I had parked my car.
Some houses in the neighborhood now had light on, but I ignored them. Many people were probably waking up, wondering what all the noise was about. Some perhaps were even aware enough to call the fire department and police. Though known of them knew exactly how much more dangerous the world had just become.
For me, the only thing that mattered was getting to the car with my unconscious passenger. That and getting all of us the medical care we needed. Luckily, I had the contact information of a retired doctor that had worked with the Night Wolves in the past. As soon as I got to the car, I’d have Max give him a call to meet us at my apartment.
To my surprise, by Max and his brother Franz were upright at my car by the time I got there with my unconscious passenger. Franz didn’t look any better, but at least he was awake and leaning against my sedan. Well, more collapsed against it, but again, at least he was upright.
“Here, take him for a moment,” I said to Max, thrusting the elf into his arms. “Let me get my keys out and we can get going.”
“What the fuck is this?!” Max said, trying and failing to hold the elf at arms distance. After carrying his brother all the way here, he was clearly exhausted. Breathing heavy after his outburst, he pulled the elf into his chest to get a better grip. I was a bit surprised he didn’t just drop him.
“An elf.” Seeing Max start to sputter at my response, I continued, “and the only other survivor of the fight in the house.”
“Yeah, but we could fix that quickly if you let me get my new knife out.”
As Max responded with his suggestion for how to deal with the elf, I noticed that he did indeed have a new knife thrust awkwardly into his pants pocket. It was long, slightly curved, and from what I saw had a curved blade. It was a nasty looking thing.
“No,” I shook my head, putting that option to rest right away, “the fact is, we have no idea what the hell is going on. That elf might be the only one who can get us the answers we need.”
“But he helped kill—”
“I know,” I growled back, angrily pointing at the elf in his arms, “but if we don’t find out what is going on, we might be dead too before long.”
Max scowled back at me, but didn’t respond. For his part, Franz looked to be struggling just to stay conscious from where he was leaning against the car. Without wasting any more time, I pulled my keys out and unlocked the doors.
“What do we do with him?” Max asked.
He was right. For now the elf was unconscious, but if they woke up in the car they might lash out before we could do anything. My eyes landed on the back of the car.
“Put them in the trunk. I’ll drive as smooth as I can back to my place.”
Grunting, Max adjusted his load and took the elf with me to the trunk. I pulled it open and he, not too gently, dropped them inside. When I gave him a slight look of reproach, since they were already knocked out after all, he just made a grimace that was part anger and part pain.
“What?”
“Nothing,” I shook my head, then gestured to the front of the car. “Let’s get going. While I drive, I need you to call Henry.”
“Henry?” Max asked, moving to open the the front passenger door.
“Yeah, he’s a retired doctor that lives next door to me. He helped me once after a night at a bar spent on the wrong end of an ass-kicking contest.”
“Oskar?” Max asked with a slight grin, dropping into his seat.
“Oskar.” I confirmed.
It had been one of the first nights I had gone out with Wilhelm’s son. Oskar had picked one of the seedier bars on the edge of the territory of the Night Wolves. At the time, I thought it was just him looking for a change of pace. Little did I know, the fat bastard was looking to pick a fight with some acquaintances of his that frequented the Heavy Drinker. The name was a bit on the nose, I know, but it ended up descripting exactly what Oskar did prior to starting the fight that night. When we got back to my place, I been lucky enough to run into Henry heading down to the lobby of our building to get his mail. Seeing me, he had offered to get me stitched up. Oskar, of course, only had a few bruises.
I missed the jerk already.
I breathed deep, starting the car. I put it into drive, and started to my place. Within minutes, both Max and Franz were asleep. The most violent, strangest night of my life to this point was only half over.