Othello the Legatus Act 2 Part 1.13

Prologue 10

"Whore! How dare you compare me to him?" Iago pushed his love away. She had told him that he was not as virile as the Dark One. How could she compared him? Unless....

"You were with him before." Iago shouted at her. She had fallen to her knees on the flooring. She had just woken from her sleep when he had roused her from it. He had wanted her for his lust. He did not even bothered to removed the clothes but did her in with her face covered by the gown. It was then she had uttered the name.

The foul name of the man who had sidelined his promotion.

Iago was not through with her yet. He stepped toward her. He placed his left leg on her left thigh. He pressed down hard on her. She squirmed in pain, but he was not letting go yet.

"Tell me." Iago pressed hard.

"Yes!" Emilia shouted. "I was in love with him. I also slept with him. He was my first, He was my best."

That was a blow for him. One that he was unable to let go. He looked at her. He then kicked at her.

"You are a whore." Iago told her.

"I am yours. Purchased with your father's life. An exchange which you made me your whore. Am I not right?" Emilia looked at the man who had raped her many more times that she can recall. She laughed at him while spreading her other leg.

"I am waiting." Emilia taunt him. Iago looked at her. He laughed.

"Wait no more. I had no remorse to my action." With that he raped her once more. 

Preys & Predators III 1.1. ( for mature readers only. )

A fictional tale

Preys & Predators III

By

Jimmy Loong

Apr 2014

Prologue 1

I helped with the bags that kept on falling off their holdings bays on those darned trucks. It was not my choice of travelling but that one was the cheapest way. More so when you only have dimes and small dollar notes. The later were few in pieces and were kept them hidden deep in the bags. There were us, the travelling family with no permanent roof over our heads. I have been on the road with my sister Val and our parents for some months then. It was all about packing and hopping onto anything that will move.  The clothes we have are the rags on our body or the ones we snuck off the clothes line. Mine was the plain smock that reached above my knees, with the scarf holding my long tresses of blond hair in place. It was sewn by my mother two years ago, but I could still fit into it. More to it, it was only one left which I liked. Val had on the old dress of mine; it had been too small for me since I grew out at the chest, and jutted more in the lower rear. Daddy and Mama were still in their Sunday best, but it may have collected on some dust since they last washed it.

“Sal, you get them bags down. We reached the place.” I heard the call and opened my eye lids from my deep slumber. I was hit by the dust even before my vision could hit the scenery. I rubbed my eyes, and looked at where we had landed out feet. I was greeted by the torn placard that read these words; why can’t my Dad work here?

“Sal, can we move on?” I heard my mother calling while my dad rushed to the waiting line for a job offer in the nearby production plant. I picked up the pace with the extra bags, and took stock of the surrounding. We were then standing before a high fence protecting two big wall structures. We were at the main fence gates, and there was a queue of people there hoping to get employed. It was a new factory then.

I looked to the truck we were on earlier. It was on its way to the nearby town. It looked far from my height, but that was where we wanted to be. I saw my dad talking to some other seniors of the families’; there for the same reason. All they rattle on was the word I heard many of times; Depression. I’ll be darn honest; I knew nothing of that but it was supposed to eat into my brain that word, while my tummy was getting nothing.

“Sal, I am hungry.” I looked to my little sister, Val. She was just twelve, but was budding to be a young lady. I took out my unfinished piece of bread and passed it to her. Val was eating more than all of us, but she needed it to grow.

Sometimes, that was bad.

Two hours later, while we were setting up camp at the open ground, I could not find Val. I was looking to ask her to assist me in setting the pegs. She was not around. I saw Mama tending to the fire place to boil the pot of water.

“Mama, did you see Val?” I shouted out. She did look at me but when she shook her head, I had my reply. I looked around; seeing the other families all staking their own camp site, and children playing. I recalled Val was playing by the tree line and moved there. The children had moved back to the campsites, but I saw some elder boys edging to the trees. I was curious on that too, and caught one of them who returned.

“Hey, you’re hurting my arm.” The freckled face screamed out but my fist took out his complaints when it socked onto his jaw. He told me what I needed to know with that blow. I left him crying while I rushed to the trees. I pushed myself in past the tree and bushes, and came upon the attraction of the boys. There was Val there standing there with only her cotton panties while the boys were given her the full eye over. One of them was doing the collecting of coins or items of value as fees for the show.

I rushed in and gave the leading boy a fistful of mine wrath. I then grabbed his right arm and swung him like a bat into the tree trunk. I then rushed in on his back and pushed him back into the tree trunk to give him a new look. The audience of boys were earlier amused by my antics, but later found the gory scene was not what they paid for. Some of them left while Val who came to her senses, had dressed back her clothes. The daring ones thinking that I was another lady folk to be slapped tried it on me. He ain’t seen me when I trooped off Daddy in his drunken moods. I lashed out with my right leg into the boy’ balls, and when he keeled over, I gave him a shiner that would need more than a thick steak. It was then the other boys had fetched the elders.

“Show’s over, boys.” I shouted out to the still standing boys. So that soon staked my reputation as Suicide Sal. 

Crusaders III: The New Age 1.6

1.6           The Legacy

Later in the chamber of the senior priest, Father Mikhail; Sergei asked to take his leave on having delivered the young guard to his master.

"No, Sergei. I am in need of you." Father Mikhail was an old man having passed his age of ninety two months back. He was seated on the wooden stool at his desk laden with documents and scrolls. Despite the advances of science, they may have extended life but they could not removed old habits of having to read documents in hard copies.

"Geranium, I am in need of your service." The old priest placed his reading glasses down on the table. It revealed a man with many wrinkles and cracks on his face; weathered through all that his ninety years of experience could offered, now condensed into the shrunken frame that hunched at that table. He was dressed like Sergei; having refused to be promoted to more pompous position as he stated in his own words.

"You are not a Saint Petersburg Guardian anymore. I am reliving you of that to accept your rightful position as the Crusader of the Faith now." The old man raised up his right hand while his left held onto the book of faith. "Come forth to be blessed with it."

Crusaders?

Geranium was taken aback by the announcement. She had heard of the Crusaders; they were the elite of the Guards and have performed many tasks for the good of Mankind and their faith. There were many exploits of the Crusaders in the archives and more she was told in the secret libraries of the seniors.

"Father Mikhail, the Crusaders had been gone since the war. Why called on it now?"

"Yes, my child. The Crusaders have been disbanded with the war. There was too much chaos and disorder. The Crusader had been reduced to only a few as there was no threat against the Faith. We were ordered to stand down, and the war had reduced our resources to the minimal. It was only recently, we have discovered the need to re-grouped back the Crusaders but the Faith had called for the descendants of the original members. This mission would need their skills and resources."

"You are a special child. You were from the lineage of Sir Gerald Black, the very first Crusader. Your great grandmother, Geraldine Black was one of the best too; her deeds cannot be mentioned for now. But now you are to carry on that tradition." Father Mikhail paused to clear his throat.

"I would hereby appoint you as the next Crusader; to hold and protect this realm in the name of the Faith." Father Mikhail then asked the child to look at him. "Time is of essence, so we cut down the formalities."

The priest of the Faith placed his hand on her head and gave her God’s blessings to her.

"Seek out the descendants of the original Crusaders. Join forces and fight for your God." Father Mikhail announced her task. "Seek out the False Prophet."

"But Father Mikhail, how and where do I start?" Geranium asked as she was not sure who was in the original line up and where are their descendants.

"Oh, that part easy." Father Mikhail pointed at Sergei. "Asked him. He had been documenting the Crusaders for years. He would assist you in your journey."

"But Father Mikhail....." Sergei pleaded with the older Priest. "I have so many uncompleted works; the translation, and also the filing."

"Rest assured, Sergei. You won't be missed." The older man replied to the younger priest. "I may however miss my hot water bath, but I could sacrifice it for the love of Mankind. And for the Faith."

Geranium was sure she heard the older man sniggering there but she kept her peace. Or was it the other, but soon she was sent off on her packing.

Othello the Legatus Act 2 Part 1.12

"Act Two Scene 1 Part 4

Roderigo, they are parlaying like a couple of kids, but they would soon grow up and then be consenting adults to share the same body movements." Iago continued on his taunting. "I seen them whispers on the ship. They were so close that they could breathe in each other's exhale. When they are that close, sex would be next."

Roderigo still breathing while nursing his drink, looked at Iago.

"Listen to me, you whelp of a whore." Iago challenge the other. "I brought you here for one thing. You would be with your love soon. But there is one other to cleared off in the chain of love.Tonight you would see him at the far end docks. I would lead Cassio there. You would kill him there."

"Kill him and you would be one short to your lover." Iago told him. "But be told of him. He is hot tempered. Let him hit you first. I would use that your attack was in self defence. Now go. Sober yourself. Love is yours to hold if you succeed."

Roderigo left the tavern, staggering to his own personal shelter. Iago sat there and looked at the doorway. He then spoke to himself.

"The lady does bewitched more than him. She held the Legatus in her arms while she hold sway over the others; Cassio, Roderigo. How many more does she hold in her eyes?" Iago sighed. "She may not know, Othello may be a good love for her; a good reliable man. But he also had his issues. He held one of mine. I believed he seduced my love. That alone fuel my vengeance on him. What is mine would not shared by others. What is his, I have no need, but Roderigo would have it. As I had his coins for my own use."

"All I need to do is to vilified Cassio to Othello.He would soon get over that one." Iago laughed. "He may even thank me. Reward me. Love me perhaps. I got it all planned. A good one, but the details are yet to come. It would be known very soon."

Crusaders III: The New Age 1.5

1.5           The Call was heeded

The land was not all wasted by the war; there are pockets of it that people could still live in. More so, where there was water to be found; abundance of it from under the ground or pouring into the breaks in the stone walls. Mankind was greedy but they were not stupid. Nuclear warfare was ruled out years ago, but the stealth of Mankind came up with sustainable alternative warfare tools; that would damned the land for eternity but ravished it for a period.

‘Starved the enemy, or deplete their resources but keep it safe when the conqueror takes over’. It was not a foolish aim, as it was done for centuries before until the emergence of nuclear capability. For fifty years, the world held onto their sanity that no one would be insane to release that bomb, although we had many scares with it. Finally, they all relented and gave up on that, and resorted to the above concept.

Sustainable warfare created new bombs; new army and new methods with biological and chemical advancement but it still yield the same results; total destruction and loss of lives. The result was only one fifth of the land on Earth was spared, with the rest reduced to wasteland or radiated land with time as its caretaker. Man's new form of warfare did not break the land it ravished but made it suffered for years.

What was once the main continent of United Europe was now left with sporadic settlements like the one here. It was once a proud city of Saint Petersburg; founded in 1703 by the Great Tsar then, lived through the two World wars, destroyed by the Third before it was left to decay to this day.

Saint Petersburg was the Imperial capital of Russia until 1918, when the central government bodies moved to Moscow. It had a population of over 15 million just before the war. It was a major United European cultural center, with annual festivals and events held there. The United Europe displayed their cultures there for the world. Great monuments were built then to made it more prominent to the other nations. All that came down during the war and from a dense fifteen million, now only remained less than two millions lived in fright and starvation. They are safe there with the regular patrols provided by the protector of the city; the Orthodox Faith Division of Saint Petersburg. There the two million or so inhabitants were fed with the crops or hunts that the protector undertakes for them, besides given them security protection from bandits or wild creatures. They had formed boundaries which the inhabitants are kept safe and each day that boundary was expanding to meet the new intake of refuges or once they have cleared the space of bandits.

The Protector of the re-born Saint Petersburg city was the members of the sect that occupied the Peter and Paul Fortress at the Neva River. The fortress that sat on the island by the Neva River; had six bastions initially with its walls built of clay and then brick walls were added later. It also houses the Peter and Paul Cathedral which was the destination of the machine rider.

The rider rode over the bridge that linked it to the island where the fortress sat, with fully auto-rotary laser cannons embankment build on it. The fortress was out of bound for the outside inhabitants who camped across in the ruins of the once great city. The once flourishing river was now a low laying river with rancid water in it.

"Welcome back, Geranium." The sentry at the bridge greeted the rider when she stopped to identify herself. It was not necessary but protocol must be heeded.

"Thank you, Senior Thaddeus." Geranium lowered her helmet field and smiled at the older guard there. Thaddeus have been a sentry there for over thirty years before and after the war. He wore his uniform of the green shades shirt with matching pants tucked into a dark knee high boots. There was a streak of red band that was seen as a vertical down the right side of his shirt. The emblem of the cross was on his left side of the shirt. The sentry had on his waist belt, the phaser similar to Geranium, and on his back was the rifle version of it.

There were four others in the sentry post but they were busy monitoring the bridge for any intrusion.

"Raise the defense shields now." A series of defenses shields were deactivated while Geranium rode her machine to the Fortress. She had to swerve her ride as there were embankments build there to prevent anyone driving a vehicle in directly. They learned enough from the suicides attempts made before.

Geranium parked the machine at the designated place in front of the cathedral. She dismounted and was met by another dressed in the simple priest robes.

"Good day, Brother Sergei. I would have expected you to be busy with Father Timon burdening you with works." Geranium taunted the good servant of the Faith with her sarcastic remarks.

"Yes, my dear Geranium. He burdens me with more of his translation, but he adds onto me the works of bringing you to him upon you arrival." Brother Sergei was a tall man with a narrow expression on his drawn face with his middle age looks. He served the Faith since his youth when he forego all materials of Man and embraced his love for theology.

"I am sure I can find my way to his chamber.....alone.... And safe." I smiled at the priest who was lead me there.

"True, but your route seems to take a longer time and he ...how may I placed it; strained his concept of patience." The priest wished to rush me, but he was bound by rules not to grapple with another gender, more so one like Geranium who may break his spine with two moves of her own. He was full aware of her fighting skills which had made two instructor regrettably 'retired with grace'.

"Hush, hush my dear..." Sergei pushed her on with his hurried words.

"Patience is the companion of wisdom...” Geranium quoted Saint Augustine' words to Sergei who frowned at her.

"Quote me not, and haste is on thy feet." Sergei ignored the lady and walked himself back inside the Cathedral. Geranium followed close and then she adds to his words.

"Am I really a burden?" Geranium recalled the earlier lines of the priest. Sergei stopped in his tracks and turned back to looked at her.

"I have read in Plato and Cicero sayings that are wise and very beautiful; but I have never read in either of them: Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden." Sergei smiled as quoted the Saint Augustine words this time. And then add on. "Yes, you are. Come now, child."

Like the obedient child, Geranium followed the older man.

Othello the Legatus Act 2 Part 1.11

Prologue 9

"Dear Healer, tell me what ails my father. He had been sick, I was to know, but his sudden turn to worse baffles me truly." Iago asked the healer outside of the chamber. His father lies in there heaving with every breath, and coughed out blood in his mouth. Iago had came running on the advise of the healer's daughter who sighted him at the corner. He knew his father was ill, and near to death from the looks of it, but that was looming from him with the new season. Since the healer had come, his father was improving and looked to recover, but the turn of events in the last day, left him for worse.

"Your father was recovering but then he took to this at noon. I am still examining him and would need some time to do so." The healer excused himself while the devoted son ran to his father side for companionship. He knelt before his father's bedding and prayed to the Gods to heal his father. Meanwhile the healer rushed back to his own home, and sat by himself in the herbs room. He clasped his head on his hands, and moaned in pain.

"Tell me your pain, father." Emilia walked up to her father and slowly kneaded the muscles on his shoulders. He shook his head and refused to look up. The daughter held the father's arms and then he spoke.

"I did wrong today, Emilia." The older man replied. "I killed a man."

"But when and how?" Emilia looked to her father. He had been senile and of late clumsy.

"I prescribed the wrong herbs to the man. He had been poisoned by it." The healer admitted his mistake. "I only saw it when I visited him. I was too late."

"Who? Father, tell me." Emilia asked.

"The Legionnaire' father" The healer replied. Emilia hugged her father tightly to hold him. She shed tears for him. Then she composed herself.

"Can we still save him?" Emilia asked him. He nodded and then shook his head. Emilia knew then it would be too late. She left him there to walked to the rear of the house. She cried there alone in the garden letting the flowers knew of her pain. But her pain was to be more unbearable by two days later.

"I come to see the Healer." The Legionnaire asked of the healer at the doorway of her home.

"My father had retired from it. He only attend to a selective few now." Emilia told the legionnaire but the later was insistent on seeing the healer. 

"Tell him to see me or I would have the Vigeles here." The Vigeles were the law enforcers besides other works.

"I am here." The healer had appeared from inside the house. He led the Legionnaire inside and soon there was some loud voices. Emilia rushed in and saw her father seated there with the same horror looks in his face as that day when he told her of the mistake.

"You have not much of a choice." The Legionnaire told the older man. "A life for another."

"Promised that you would treat her well." The older man asked. The Legionnaire named Iago agreed. He was taking Emilia as his love for the life of of his departed father. She ran to him and looked at him.

"It was the only way, my child. I would not had survived the mines. Or even the journey." The old man told his daughter. "You would not be alone anymore."

Emilia was never alone. She was a Legionnaire's wife but she was his personal slave. When he wants her and when he kicks her. 

Crusaders III: The New Age 1.4

1.4           The Shooter of the Faith

Just as then when the Man fed on his would be predator, miles away slightly to the Northwest direction, at the hill lines, another figure was lain face down on the sandy pile by the boulder. The figure was half covered by the blowing sands, although the camouflage fatigue of light gray with spots of white was itself an adequate cover. The figure was laid there with the legs spread out while its head was rested on the right shoulder with the focus on the telescopic lens that was attached to the camouflaged wrapped long range phaser rifle. The arms of the figure were wrapped around the rifle with half the face hidden by the stock and lens. The figure had on maybe termed as a beret but it had a set of goggles build into it. The barrel of the rifle was aimed at the target at the distance of over two thousand yards on the hill. The target was at that moment waiting for the arrival of the sea vessel which would take him to safety.

The target was protected by a three auto-bots detail; war designed droids with firepower that can level this boulder and sandy hill to be a pond. The shooters breathe in and whispered these words.

"Bless me father once." The trigger button was pressed.

"Blast me father twice." The trigger button was released.

"Father be bless thrice." The metal projectile from the rifle blew the target head off.

Immediately, the droids reacted to the shooting as their system looked at the wound and computed the trajectory path but by then the shooter was crawling back on the sand, and then half crouched ran to the nearby vehicle parked behind the dyke. It was a hover skid pad designed for one rider; legs clamped on the surface by the remote control on the goggles, and the three feet by one feet oblong pad took off with it antigravity mechanism propelled forward by the miniature jets build into the pad. Its cruising speed was thirty miles and hour but for getaways like this, it would hit the maximum at fifty five miles per hour.

"Whoo-pee!" The figure now half crouched on the hover pad shouted out in jubilation on a task well done. It was always exhilarating to ride the pad at its maximum speed with the control based on the foot taps. But the escape was not without its pursuers. The laser shots missed the pad by inches'; fired from the two flying droids on foot jets.

The war-bots are build like the figure of Man, but they are encased with the right shoulder mounted lasers phaser, twin barrels on the wrist for close combats and with these, they also carry the phaser rifles that holds a thirty charge energy pack. Those are only the phaser, but the droids are also armed with explosives like thermal grenades, napalm mini bombs and the dreaded round blades. The last are just throwing disc which would energize and become revolving sharpened blades. They can cut through a rock surface of two feet with no issues.

"Damn!" The shooter cursed and then added in a prayer for forgiveness. The concern of the shooter was not the jet boots as they can only do thirty miles an hour max, but the blades. Those can move to a speed of sixty five miles when energized. The shooter tapped in the command on the pad and the hover pad went up on the left side, holding its rider in a slanting stance. The shooter had picked up the rifle and then tapped in the next command. The hover craft did a tight turn to the left while the shooter took aim.

The shot went off from the rifle at that slanting angle and hit the first droid at the side of the chest where its armor was the weakest. The projectile on impact; penetrated the metal cover, and damaged the internal circuitry causing the droid to go into a spin and crashed into the rear droid.

"Bless me Father for I done it." The shooter shouted out as the hover pad made another turn to bring it back to the original path. At that moment of the turn, the hover pad bottom surface showed its owner affiliation;' the House of the Cross.

So then we had met the Third Crusaders of the New Age.

He was to be named the Shooter of the Faith.

Othello the Legatus Act 2 Part 1.10

Once out on the street, he was greeted by the sight of his old friend.

"Roderigo, you made it." Iago called out to his friend, who swung a fist at the former but missed. Iago grabbed hold of the friend of his who was obviously still suffering the sea sickness.

"Iago, you tempted me to travel on this pock marked journey, slammed by the waves, tossed by the winds, and sick with everything I swallowed." Roderigo pushed his friend away before he threw up on the street. Iago saw his predicament and dragged the sick man to the other tavern on the end of the street. They were alone there, as Iago had sent the other drinkers off to the street, with his rank. After a goblet of sheep broth and quail eggs, Roderigo had nothing else to throw out. He was sobering then with a sweet wine.

""Be silent and listen to me." Iago told his sobering friend. "You travel the sea to be with her......"

"On your words, I did that. I am beginning to regret now. You can have the ship and its crew." Roderigo interjected. "I am leaving by land tomorrow."

"You would not not leave. Not when you are here now." Iago told him. "Your adversary is here. He is laying her right now. Are you that man to get her back? Or are you the coward who would cut his own throat in some dark alley?"

Roderigo looked up from his drink. His eyes were red shot but they were alert with rage.

"He charmed her as what her father had said." Iago continued on. "He charmed her with his sad tales. I have heard some of them." Of which Iago made up to annoy him. "I had shed my tears before for him. But you are not him."

"Yes, I am not him. Or why else would I sit here with you." Roderigo sank his sorrow into the goblet of wine.

"Be silent and hear me out. She fell in love for his tales. His words are the only that swayed her." Iago pulled the goblet away from his friend. "Do you think that the words would last? The man holds more than a dark mask, he is darker inside him. Even his looks would one repel her, and if not his body would."

"Give me back my wine. I shall not be tormented by you anymore." Roderigo reached for the goblet, but Iago taunt him on.

"Othello is ugly." Iago frowned up his expression on the left side of the face. "She is a beauty and needed the mirror of her to be complete. Othello is not and soon would be tire by either. He probably first, and then she would come seeking for the one to mirrored her. Some of her age, perhaps, virile and handsome. Some one who had coins and not in need to serve far and long on dusty journeys."

"Cassio is young like her, and he had coins. His family wealth overrides mine." Roderigo took to another goblet and drunk his fill. "Alas, I am doomed. She had more to choose than one for me to love."

"Funny, that you would say on that one. I was in suspect he may be one." Iago swung the subject to work out his evil plan forming in the mind. "He is handsome, good at the trades and gnawing at the toes for the promotion. He may looked naive but the ladies liked him. I seen him both as a good and bad boy."

"Yes!' Roderigo cleared his new goblet of wine. "I am in need of another."

"Yes!" Iago replied next to his friend. "She is in need of one other. She had done it, when I saw her last looking at him. Desdemona, you cannot deny yourself, yet so early into your union, you had strayed your heart."

"You lied, you bastard." Roderigo lashed at his friend, but the other stepped back but not before he taint his friend.

"Aye, the hands needed two to clapped. Cassio was not gentleman. I had known him for years. He looked like one on the outside but beneath the skin, lies a naughty man. He would lain any man's wife if he had the opportunity. I am the only he dared not defy. Or my Emilia would had been under him too."

"You spoke out of line, Iago. Desdemona is not what you had portrayed there. She is..." Roderigo defended the woman of his lust.

"A mortal of flesh and blood, with the raunchy feelings of a woman. I know more, my friend." Iago replied. "She is more than the lady you knew."

Iago smiled when he thought of his own love, the lovely Emilia; how he won her over.

Crusaders III: The New Age 1.3

1.3 The Slayer of the Faith

Across the wasteland to the west, nearer to the mountain range that was once known as the Alps, there was a half collapsed castle, having half of its walls torn down, with only one tower of its original four left standing. In that tower, one inhabitant had taken refuge by building up stone defenses around it; against the natural elements and also the evolved creatures that may creep up in the dark.

The man was dressed in layers of rags under his worn out dark thick leather suit with the emblem of the cross lined with reinforced chain mail around his arms and thighs but with a difference as his emblem have an additional sign of the oval shape to the cross. He was not armed with any lasers or phaser but he had on him the ancient Broadsword carried by his forefathers before him. On both his forearms are the shields that were worn there to protect his shoulders. His long dark flowing hair to the back was unkempt from the days of running, was secured with a dark bandanna that covered his head. The expression on the face of the man was that of dark penetrating eyes, and firm cheeks that lined up to a square jaw; the looks of a true warrior form once appreciated during the older era of chivalry.

He held the Broadsword with both his hands and his legs braced for the moves that were taught to him by his father. His adversary was reflected by the small fire he had tended on the tower flooring; a dark menacing silver furred creature once known as wolves, but now goes with the name of Fenrir. The creatures have evolved to be twice its fore-breeds but it still retained that red orbs for the eyes and the long fangs in its jaw.

"Come and attack me, you vile creature." The man taunted the creature. Once the wolves hunt in packs but the lack of preys have made them run in singles or pairs. Infighting among themselves have also dwindled their numbers but they are still the most feared ones here on these mountains.

The Fenrir kept its distance; moving in small steps with its eyes looking for opening that would allowed it to rushed at the prey but the Man was holding his vigil on the wolf. Whether it was frustration or hunger, the wolf went lunging in what it may have perceived as an opening; but the Man was ready. The Broadsword swung in tight across the path of the wolf, and its sharp blade sliced into the side of its neck; cut in deep and severed some arteries where the bloods spurts out in streaks across its path.

The wolf fell on its side but the Man was already thrusting the Broadsword sharp end into its ribs just after the front limbs. The broadsword thrust in deep was then twisted by it handler, and pushed to exit at the other side of the wolf body. The wolf howled out in its final seconds before silence prevailed once again in the castle.

The Man kicked at the wolf and noticed it was dead, then fell down on his knees and grabbed at the wound. He tore at the flesh there and reached for the inner organs which were rich with nutrients. It drank the blood that was in the wolf to quench his thirst before he settled down to removed the parts he would keep.

So then we had met the Second Crusaders of the New Age.

He was to be named Slayer of the Faith.

Preys & Predators II; Chessmen ( Rated for Mature Readers ) 1.52 ( Finale )

The New Board

Dark Pawn

Sylvia Graden

White Pawn

Micheal Darren

Dark Knight - Killer

Billie Diane / Billy Dane

Dark Pawn

One of novelty of running the Tempest, was that I could explore all form of fantasies with the wave of the money; which I had plenty from the recovered briefcase of Mary Levine Ketch. I walked past my faithful bartender, dressed as one with the authentic Edwardian sideburns and moustache. His dressing matched his current outlooks; the suspenders lashed downwards to hold up his tight tweed pants, with the stretchable white round neck shirt. He even had on a bowler hat for his upper look.

“Busy night, huh?” I had to shout towards him, as the music level at the Tempest was above the norm level. We were packed to the walls, with patrons swinging and drinking to their fill.

“Business as usual, ma’am.” Bruno replied while he reached up to twitch his moustache. I smiled back and watched the crowd. Its Steampunk night, with the dressing and the set designed with steam pipes and valves. We even have a mock up air balloon hanging overhead in the main hall with the bellowing fire to supply the air lift. It was one of our more popular theme besides the swimwear and the toga theme.

I wade past the tight bodies towards my personal office at the rear. I passed by Commissioner Glades doing a fast exit by the private rear door. We did not acknowledge each other as it was the norm for the clients. I walked on and went into my own personal office. It was not much of an office, considering that I décor it like a First Class Flight compartment with the high back seat, viewing the multi screen on the side wall of my office alongside with the concealed wine and snacks compartment. It is fun to run the next best outlet in the city, with the crushing bodies and piling of notes into the tiller. And affording the next best ‘mile-high’ environment on the ground.

I viewed the sixteen mounted cameras and watched for the unusual antics. It was then my partner walked in.

“It was Hellish”, my new partner spoke up. She was dressed in a barmaid’s costume with the corset to spurge out her orbs for all to admire. She kicked off the wooden clogs across the office and plod down on the settee there. She had just walked in after a rousing duty of being the host, and a personal session with an esteemed client in the private room.

“If Commissioner Glades does that in his real job, there would be many officers with tonsillitis issue. Damn! He thinks he is Billy the Locomotive with the gears leveled to high.”

“Billie, that’s what we do, playing their fantasy for them. If they are allowed to do that in their real life, they would not have asked for us.” I told her. “After all, we are the best in the game.”

“Yeah, next time give him the torchlight stuffed with gel and cotton swabs for his own tunneling.” Billie groaned while reaching for the bottle of gin.

“Billie, I doubt a lady of your standing ought to sit in that manner.” She was seated with her legs spread out.

“Fuck you!” Billie called out.

“Don’t be too casual with that or I may just take a bite.” I laughed at her remark.

“Next time, you can handle the guy.” I knew who she was referring. “He almost took out my tits.”

“It’s part of the game, Billie. More to it, I don’t have a live strap-on like yours.” I smiled back. “Perhaps you like a lollipop.”

“Only if you offered me a sweetened doughnut later.” Billie replied.

“Checkmate.” I approached her.