The funny thing about alarm clocks is we curse them when they work and we curse them even more when they don’t. It is pitch black in his living when room he hears the beeping noises followed by low muffled voices coming from his answering machine. He looks at the clock, its 2:00 AM. The familiar voice of Detective Bren Boone cuts through the darkness.
“Damnit Keppler! Pick up, we have a 187 on Amherst at the Brentwood condos.”
He scurries to pick up the phone almost falling from the sofa onto his shoulder on the floor.
“Uhhhh, yeah Bren I’m here, a 187? Yeah okay I’ll meet you there.”
He jumps off of the Sofa and heads for the shower before getting dressed. As he walks to the driveway to get into his vehicle, he is close enough to hear the sounds of distant sirens tearing through the silence of the cold rainy morning. He stops to look up.
“Yeah that’s what everybody needs to see- first thing in the morning. A dead body, helluva life you’ve made for yourself Keppler.”
He starts the car and pulls into the street and heads west for Amherst Blvd. Bren Boone’s voice comes blaring over the radio, the crosstalk he’s hearing is telling him that there are two possible victims, they’ve both been shot.

Welcome to the Brentwood condominiums, spacious, clean living. Spacious. Clean. Yeah, maybe fifteen years ago. The glare of flashing lights in front of the building light up the early morning skyline for several blocks in all directions; there are two ambulances along with several police cruisers in the street. He pulls to the curb and gets out; flashing his identification at an officer securing the entrance. He sees Bren Boone approaching him with a big smile across his slender face.
“Morning sunshine.” he chuckles.
“Morning Bren, what have we got here?”
“Uniforms are doing a canvas, but they haven’t turned up anything yet. They’re dumping the security cameras in the lobby to see if we have any tangible leads. A lady next door to the scene called in the disturbance, she said it sounded like they were fighting, there wasn’t supposed to be anybody in there that she knows of that’s why she called it in. Emt’s got here awhile ago one victim was already dead when they arrived, the one they found in the bathroom still had a pulse, they transported him to Mercy General. He’s touch and go but we’ll see. Forensics is going over the scene right now.”

They take the elevator up to the twenty-fifth floor. As soon as they enter the residence a member of the forensics team approaches them.
“Detectives, There’s something in the bathroom that you really should see. “
They enter the bathroom behind the officer, and there on the wall written in blood are the words; BURN IN HELL BABY KILLER.
“It looks like they picked up after themselves for the most part but they forgot one shell casing that rolled under the sofa where the first body was found. It looks like a 9mm; we’re going to get a clean print off of it. The first Vic was shot in the living room and the second struggled with his attackers first in the bedroom. It looks like he got a piece of them too before they got him in the bathroom. There’s a blood trail leading out the door, we’ll run the DNA.”
They enter the bedroom and carefully survey the entire scene. Another member of the forensics team approaches them.
“We found an open wallet on the nightstand, its military ID, Army, your second Vic is a recently discharged soldier named Sgt. Edward Craig. The Vic on the couch’s name is Troy Blake. Craig just got back from overseas too. Hell of a way to be welcomed home.”

One pill makes you larger
and one pill makes you small
and the ones that mother gives you
Don't do anything at all
Go ask Alice
When she's ten feet tall.

They say that a picture is worth a thousand words, but in this case you could argue that they are worth ten- thousand. The video feed from the lobby of the high rise clearly shows three men entering the elevators. The only thing the video feed doesn’t show; is how they managed to get out undetected. That’s when the buildings lone security officer tells them that there is no surveillance equipment at the rear exit of the building and they could have easily unlocked the door from the inside and slipped out unnoticed. In the distance Keppler sees the tall lanky form of Lieutenant James Scanlan, moving through the lobby, his high pitched voice reaching well above anyone else in the room. He approaches Keppler and Boone with his usual arrogant stride, before stopping directly in front of Keppler. He stares over the rim of his spectacles, his eyes looking him up and down.
“Keppler. I should have known. Double homicide is it?”
“The Jury is still out on the second Vic Lieutenant, he may pull through yet.”
“No witnesses. No evidence. Sounds cut and dry to me detective, do put this one to bed quickly.”
“No evidence? We have plenty of evidence sir, its still in process, but we have evidence.”

Scanlan’s lips pucker into a slight pout, his eyes squinting as he tries to read Keppler. He folds his arms in front of him. Keppler stares him down
“What Evidence?”’
“They tried to clean up after the murder but left behind a shell casing with a clean print, also the forensics team thinks that one of them may have removed a glove to write the bloody message on the wall; we may have a workable print or two there as well. And we‘re still going over the security video, there may be something there too.”
“Put it to bed as quickly as possible. There are other cases to solve gentlemen.”
As he turns away abruptly and stalks away, Bren Boone appears over his shoulder, both men watch Scanlan curiously as he exits the lobby.
“Is it my imagination or was he a little too vehement about us running through the investigation without making sure we’ve got it right?”
Keppler takes a couple of steps forward, his eyes never leaving Scanlan.
“You had coffee yet this morning Bren?”
He shakes his head no.
“Me neither. There’s a coffee joint across the street lets hit it up.”

Scanlan’s a piece of work, a hard nosed copper from the old days, who’d long since given up on any principles he might’ve had in the past. Put in the time, work your case, and prove it in court. Scanlan was once a good cop, hard nosed and tough, but as is the case with so many others, his political ambitions consumed him as he clawed his way up the ladder no matter the cost. No matter whom he had to walk over. Now he was just another politician. They walk across the street to the coffee shop; they grab two cups of coffee and walk back outside.
“So let’s take it step by step with what we know so far Kep.”
“Ok. Three guys enter the lobby; take the elevator to the twenty-fifth floor. They jimmy the lock to get in. we know Troy Blake was sleeping on the sofa; so he was more likely than not- shot first. So the first guy waves off the other two to go weed out Eddie Craig. They struggle with Eddie before shooting him. We know that they knew which condo their targets would be in so that tells me that they put in the leg work too. They must have been following Troy seeing as how Eddie Craig just got home from the V. so up until now we only assumed that Eddie was the target because of his Military background but now we almost have to consider that he was nothing more than collateral damage and Troy Blake was the intended target. How close do you think I am?”
“Close enough.”

And if you go chasing rabbits
And you know you're going to fall
Tell 'em a hookah smoking caterpillar
Has given you the call
Call Alice
When she was just small

He lights his first cigarette of the day and takes another hit of the coffee, he inhales the smoke and slowly releases it from his lips. Several thoughts run through his mind, the writing on the wall, the bloody message, literally- almost immediately makes him think of the people protesting the airports and bus terminals. The Human Action League. Yeah that seems a bit convenient to him, Military guy fresh back from the V, shot in his own home? Naw- fuck that. He’s been in the game long enough to know a diversion tactic when he sees one. he isn’t buying that, too easy.
“Keppler.”
He draws in another wisp of smoke; his eyes slowly roll to the side to study Bren Boone.
“We need to take a closer look at Troy Blake; he was up to his neck in this.” Boone says.
“The Human Action League.”
“What?”
“Radicals, anti war, anti government, anti police, we have to keep that in mind too.”
“Maybe the message wasn’t so convenient after all?’
“Remember the army recruiting office that got bombed a couple of days ago Bren?”
“Yeah they couldn’t prove it, but they questioned several high ranking members of the H.A.L. over that as I recall. The Government has them on an urban terrorist watch list now I hear.”

The heart of any investigation lies in the nooks and crannys. Small things, seemingly unrelated- can bring the whole picture into focus. They aren’t going to just breeze through this just to close the case, Eddie Craig deserves better, Troy Blake deserves better. Fuck Scanlan, they were going to do their jobs to the best of their abilities no matter what. They head back to the station to check on leads, once back at the 15th Keppler heads straight for the crime lab. He sees the lab tech named Jason Chin, and enquires about the print off of the shell casing.
“Nope.” Chin tells him. “Scanlan came in and told me to put it on the back burner, it wasn’t a priority. But I know you put a rush on it; so I told him that a tech took the casing to the evidence locker. I think he went after it.”
“How long?”
“I have other six other cases ahead of yours, but I can bump you to the top of the pile; I’ll run it really quick, so long as Scanlan doesn’t catch me.” Chin tells him.
“I’ll go stall him, do what you can Jason, if you get a match just stick the results in the top drawer of my desk. Thanks.”
Keppler meets up with Boone and they make a detour towards the evidence locker.

When men on the chessboard
Get up and tell you where to go
And you've just had some kind of mushroom
And your mind is moving slow
Go ask Alice
I think she'll know.

After completely confusing Scanlan for more than a half an hour, Keppler and Boone return to the squad room. He pulls the top drawer of the desk open to find a note from Jason Chin, he unfolds it to read.
Keppler, Call me ASAP! ~Jason~
He opens his phone and dials the number of Jason Chin.
“Yeah Jason What have you got?”
“I’m off the clock; meet me at the waffle house on Garfield. In twenty-minutes”
“What’s going on?”
“I’ll tell you when you get here; you really need to see this. Boone too.”
They make a hasty exit and head over to Garfield avenue in Keppler’s car. On the way they go over what they know and do a fair amount of speculating as to what Jason Chin couldn’t tell him over the phone. And at almost the same exact time they spot him sitting near the front window of Fat Dean’s House of Waffles. Keppler and Boone both enter and nod to the waitress.
“That young man over there is expecting us.” they smile.
They sit across from Jason Chin who seems rather pale for an eastern Tai-Painese.

He puts a folder flat against the table and cautiously slides it to Keppler. His eyes dance around the room nervously looking for anyone that doesn’t belong. Keppler picks up the folder and opens it. his head doesn’t move but his eyes cast a sideways glance at Bren Boone; before he returns his attention to Jason Chin.
“Are you absolutely certain about this Jason?”
“Fuck yeah man. I ran the print off of the casing twice just to make sure, and then I went and ran the bloody print from the bathroom too.”
“And you didn’t show these to anybody else?”
“No, I put everything back where I got it, marked the evidence box as non priority and set it to the side. I just got out of the lab when I saw Scanlan go back in behind me and secure the box; he came back out with it and headed back to the evidence locker.”
“That shell casing and those bloody prints are going to disappear. Mark my words.”
He slid the folder to Bren Boone.
“The prints from the shell casing and the bathroom belong to two cops from the 22nd.”
Bren Boone’s eyes narrowed.
“Scanlan’s old house.”

When logic and proportion
Have fallen sloppy dead
And the White Knight is talking backwards
And the Red Queen's "off with her head!"
Remember what the dormouse said;
"Keep YOUR HEAD.

~White Rabbit - By Jefferson Airplane. Copyright© 1967. All rights reserved.~

~Scratch. A.B.T. Copyright © 2011~




This Flash Player was created @ FlashWidgetz.com.

add music to your myspaceadd music to your myspacemusic playlist

The images return to him every single time he closes his eyes, to pause, to rest, to sleep. He sees the pictures in his mind as clear as any day in his life; it’s almost as if he were watching a movie on television. But he knows these images are very real, memories, recent nightmares that will haunt him forever. He stands in a field, surrounded by rice patties. He can see the earth exploding around him; he can see the bodies of young men as they are propelled backwards; by the endless wave of bullets tearing through their flesh. Their blood fills the air like a rainstorm as mortars rain down on the grass huts; reducing the entire village to a sea of fire and ash as they make their advance across the patties, firing every step of the way. They are within sight now. And in front of him, he sees a young child, of a sex that he cannot distinguish, it is half naked and wet and crying uncontrollably, he feels the muzzle of his weapon beginning to drift toward the ground, his eyes staring blankly into the dead space in front of him.

“You Fuckers have really done it up right this time.”

He hears no sound but can almost feel the bullets speed past him as they slice through the fragile body of the young child. It almost seems to disintegrate right before his very eyes, from breathing flesh and blood to nothingness- instantly. He drops to one knee as the rest of his platoon passes by advancing into the remains of the burnt village. His eyelids remain closed tightly almost forcing them back into the sockets.
“Don’t feel Eddie. Feeling will get your ass killed here.”
He opens his eyes as he feels the first drops of rain touch his heat ravaged skin. He raises his head to look up at the sky, and briefly pauses to question the existence of God. The sound returns and slowly pulls him away from the thought. Back into the jungle, back to an absolute reality, where there are more people to kill, more people must die, for no particular reason. Just because. He rises to his feet and begins to walk but stops right where the child had once stood only seconds before.
“I want to go home.”

Come gather 'round people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You'll be drenched to the bone
If your time to you
Is worth savin'
Then you better start swimmin'
Or you'll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin'

She passes by him working the isle three times before she notices his eyelids twitching, rapid eye movement. Dreaming, or given the uniform, perhaps it is more along the lines of a nightmare. His eyes slowly pull apart as she leans in; smiling, flashing her perfect white teeth in a brilliant smile. Her crystal blue eyes looking him up and down as he studies her.
“Can I get you something to drink honey?”
He looks away shaking his head slowly, his eyes drifting out the small window as the pillows of white clouds and the patches of earth beneath them slowly drift by. Soon he would be home after six long years, five spent in country. Soon he would be taking his first tentative steps towards a civilian life; one that he isn't altogether certain that he is ready to face. He will need a job, a purpose; it will be a life that he will really have to work at. He returns his attention to the here and now as the flight attendant brings him a bottle of water and smiles broadly at him.
“You better buckle up honey, we‘ll be landing in Ashford soon.” she tells him.

They told him what to expect once he got back to the states, things weren’t the same there anymore, not like before. The war had brought out the best in people, lots of anger, lots of protest, wave after wave of angry - bitter people, all carrying signs and shouting at the top of their lungs, at the police, at the military, at God, at whomever they could get to listen. A world lost to civil unrest, rapidly changing, and the uniform he’d chosen to proudly wear for the past six years would surely make him a target. They told him that it’s was really bad at the Amherst international airport, large crowds picketing the return of soldiers, rioting, police. It was a real mess. Soldiers were always a popular target for the sign wavers, so instead he would catch a flight to the smaller neighboring town of Ashford. There he would take a bus for the last one hundred miles to Amherst. His cousin Troy agreed to meet him at the bus station and take him uptown to his sister’s condo. He leans back in the seat pulling the seatbelt around him clicking it into position. He feels his lips almost involuntarily purse into a smile as he watches the sexy blond flight attendants perfect young ass gently sway back and forth as she disappears into the front of the plane. It was nice to know that at least some things hadn’t changed… Amerikan women were still as beautiful as ever.

Come writers and critics
Who prophesize with your pen
And keep your eyes wide
The chance won't come again
And don't speak too soon
For the wheel's still in spin
And there's no tellin' who
That it's namin'
For the loser now
Will be later to win
For the times they are a-changin'.

From three seats back he could still hear the wipers of the Trailways Bus slapping against the windshield. The rain beaded up on the side windows and the heat from inside- caused them to fog up some. Making it impossible for him to tell just how far they were from Amherst. From across the isle a young blond boy sits clutching a small stack of comic books to his chest as he stares at Eddie Craig with wide eyed wonder.
“Wow mister, are you a soldier? For real?”
Eddie smiles at him.
“Well- I was. But I got discharged so I’m going home to be with my family now.”
“Were you- you know. Over there?”
“Yeah. I spent five years over there.”
“Did you kill people?”
“Daniel!” his mother scolds him. “You know better than to ask a question like that!”
She leans forward in her seat looking around the young boy.
“I’m so sorry. Please forgive my sons poor manners.” she tells him
“Its ok ma’am, I expect I’ll be hearing a lot worse from adults once I’m home.”

The bus pulls into the terminal in Amherst just after 3:00 PM, and as Edward Craig steps down onto the sidewalk he already sees the familiar sight of Troy Blake’s black 56’ coupe in the distance. And although he opted to take the bus for the last one hundred miles to avoid the airport crowds; he soon discovers that the terminal too- has its fair share of protesters. And their language is as colorful as the signs they are waving. They shout at him as he passes by, shaming his uniform with every step he takes. Some take to calling him a murderer, other s call him a baby killer. Many spit at him and question his pride.
“Are you proud of all of the innocent people that you killed over there you murdering scum?”
The truth is a funny thing Edward, it- as a matter of fact, escapes most people. Even the sane ones. No one is innocent, not in this day and age, no ones hands are clean, not even the so-called civilians.
Edward Craig walks defiantly, unchallenged by the taunts of the hostile crowd, he remains undaunted as he passes them by, his posture perfectly straight, upright. Troy Blake pulls the 56’ couple up the curb stopping in front of him. For the first time on this long journey Edward Craig sees a friendly
Face.
“Welcome home Eddie.”

Come senators, congressmen
Please heed the call
Don't stand in the doorway
Don't block up the hall
For he that gets hurt
Will be he who has stalled
There's a battle outside
And it is ragin'
It'll soon shake your windows
And rattle your walls
For the times they are a-changin'.

They travel mostly in silence as the coupe turns onto Amherst Blvd and begins to head downtown towards the condominium of Connie Craig. Troy fills him in on much of the family happenings in his absence and the two begin to get reacquainted with one another relieving the tension of the uncomfortable silence.
“Connie really wanted to be here when you got home Eddie, but between her new ol man and business, it keeps pulling her away, she’s got a decent condo though. It’s in a high rise downtown. They had to cut back on security because of budget cuts but its relatively quiet there except for the occasional whack job.”
The streets of downtown Amherst are dirtier than he remembers, at first glance- in Edward Craig’s estimation; his home town appears to be in the middle of a severe downward spiral. Many stores are empty, and they pass by several burnt out buildings. His mind wanders as he gives Troy an uncomfortable sideways glance. Troy stares straight ahead.
“A lot has changed here, lots of people against the war, sometimes they lash out. Lately though- they‘ve been getting organized. They call themselves the Human Action League.”

He pulls the coupe into the parking structure next to the condo and they get out so Troy Blake can lock it. They enter through the side of the high rise and head straight for the elevator. They take it up to the twenty-fifth floor and Troy leads him down a long hallway to the condo. His assessment was fairly accurate, it has a large spacious living room, but the kitchen seems cramped and closed off, there are three bedrooms with two bathrooms. And the whole place is decently furnished. He puts his duffel bag in the hallway closet as Troy goes into the kitchen to get two beers from the refrigerator. Eddie stands with his back to him as he stares out the double glass doors that lead to the balcony.
“It was raining when I left, and its still raining when I get home.”
Troy passes him a beer.
“Man that was some crazy shit you went through over there, we heard all about what you did on TV. Reporters even went to your folk’s house to talk to your mom; but your pops ran them off. Everybody was talking about you for awhile there Eddie, I’m surprised they didn’t have a reception planned for you or something.”
He stares straight ahead.
“Yeah well, I wanted to keep it low key, I didn’t know what to expect.”
They reminisce long into the night before they both decide to turn in. The lights fade and Troy opts for the couch and Eddie takes the master bedroom. Neither hearing the faint footsteps in the hall just outside.

Come mothers and fathers
Throughout the land
And don't criticize
What you can't understand
Your sons and your daughters
Are beyond your command
Your old road is
Rapidly agin'
Please get out of the new one
If you can't lend your hand
For the times they are a-changin'.

Knowing full well that they can’t disable the security cameras they enter through the deserted lobby leaving only their backs visible on the security discs. There are three men dressed all in black walking to the elevators with purpose. They enter and key the twenty - Fifth floor and upon arrival exit the elevator and draw a bead on the door at the far end of the hall.
“And you say there‘s two targets?” one dark figure whispers to the next.
He nods.
“Yeah, they’re both inside, we have to do them both, you got the jimmy?”
They move in front of the door and almost too quietly jig the lock open. Too easy, the three figures slip inside complete unnoticed by Troy who is sound asleep on the couch. The leader motions down the hallway to the first of three bedrooms and two begin a door by door search for Eddie Craig. The leader remains in the living room where Troy Blake sleeps. He carefully twists the silencer onto the barrel of the pistol. He raises the weapon and fires four times into Troy Blake’s chest killing him instantly.
His other two partners though are not having much luck locating Eddie Craig who as it turns out got up to use the bathroom.

He comes out of the bathroom to discover an unidentified armed person hovering over the bed with their weapon drawn. As they pull back the covers Eddie blindsides them tackling them to the floor. In the struggle the weapon discharges hitting the assailant in the leg, causing him to scream out in pain. But they still have the gun and Eddie is forced to retreat back into the bathroom, but most unfortunate for Edward Craig is the fact that this is the first time in six years, he is completely unarmed. At the other entrance to the bathroom the leader of the trio fires, hitting Edward Craig in the abdomen twice and two other times into an unknown part of his body. And as he slumps over and falls into the empty bathtub. After six year of loyal service to his country Edward Henry Craig is left for dead. The trio now triumphant, stand over their targets, gloating albeit ever so briefly, one stays in the bathroom to leave a trail the other two clean up as quickly as they can. For they know that someone had to have heard the commotion and they will soon come to investigate and discover the bodies. They hastily exit the condominium and head for cover. As an unexpected turn has been taken in the game of fate. Eddie Craig it would appear got a piece of one of them before they took him out.
“Welcome home Eddie.”

The line it is drawn
The curse it is cast
The slow one now
Will later be fast
As the present now
Will later be past
The order is
Rapidly fadin'
And the first one now
Will later be last
For the times they are a-changin'.

~Scratch. A.B.T. Copyright © 2011~

~The Times they are a changin’ lyrics by Bob Dylan Copyright © 1964. All rights reserved. ~


This Flash Player was created @ FlashWidgetz.com.

flash fetishadd music to your myspaceflash fetish

It is almost 5:00 PM as he steps out of the City Café on Cherry Street. The sidewalks are brimming with the hustle and bustle of people trying to get home from work in time for dinner. He stops to look up when he sees the black clouds slowly rumbling in the skies above Amherst. he can feel it in his bones; there’s a nasty storm heading their way. And he would be powerless to do anything but stand and watch. He stops to light a cigarette and slowly inhales the first gray plumes of smoke deep into his lungs, giving pause to wonder how it will all end. Around him, the city almost seems consumed by it, life, moving in all directions simultaneously. People coming and going, to and from, many in circles; locked unknowingly inside a never ending maze of conformity and infinite patterns, locked inside of life itself. The sounds of honking horns and congested streets echo through the steel and concrete towers of downtown Amherst, it’s the busiest time of day. Rush hour. Perfect timing. As always.

As he sees the first drops of rain touch his bare hand, he looks down at it momentarily. Seconds later he looks back up as the front of the red brick building a block and a half away across the street, erupts into a sea of broken glass and flying pieces of mortar and brick. Several cars and one city bus are caught directly in front of the blast, it flips the bus over several times and two of the cars explode, causing even more death and damage. Anyone caught in front of the building dies instantly. The explosion is so intense it shakes the ground beneath him from a block and a half away, and knocks him completely off of his feet. His ears begin to ring, his hearing is gone, and now all he can do is watch as a crowd of stunned people; running in all directions fleeing the chaos of the moment. Chaos, the very essence of life. Without absolute chaos there would be no need for order. Yin and Yang, fire, water, life and death. Chaos, Order. People have died here today, possibly hundreds.
“They really did it, those pricks. They really did it.”

His hearing begins to return as the familiar wailings of police, fire and ambulence sirens echo through the late afternoon air. He struggles to his feet as panic stricken people run by him. But he himself remains too stunned to move. The cell phone inside of his pocket begins to vibrate, incoming call.
“Hello?”
There is a brief pause.
“Barris Towers, tonight at 9:00 PM. be there.”
All he can do is nod slightly as his eyes drift back up to the scene just over one block away.
“Arliss. What have you done?”
“And Eric?”
“Yes?”
“I trust that I don’t need to remind you to come alone?”

Time has come today
Young hearts can go their way
Can't put it off another day
I don't care what others say
They say we don't listen anyway
Time has come today
(Hey)

He stumbles up the front stairs of the brownstone feeling the pit of his stomach about to have an eruption of its very own. He removes his coat and once inside, his tie comes off as he hurries to the bathroom. He doubles over and falls to his knees in front of the toilet. His concerned wife enters the room behind him, as he begins to vomit uncontrollably.
“My God! Eric are you alright? I heard there was an explosion in midtown close to your office they say it was an Army recruiting office. My god that’s horrible!”
He pauses to catch his breath as tears begin to well up in his eyes. All he can do is nod.
He struggles to his feet and looks into her eyes.
“Kathy- I want you to take the kids and go to your mothers in Grandview, its getting too crazy here, my God there are too many crazy people here.”
“Eric I-”
“Damnit Kathy! Take the kids and go to your Mothers! I’ll join you there as soon as I finish my business here.”

He goes to the scotch cabinet and removes a bottle. But even the strongest stuff he has in stock won’t calm his frazzled nerves. He stares out into the now pouring rain and begins to wonder if he is in this shit way over his head. He didn’t sign on for the murders of innocent people. Arliss Jacobsen, the ring leader, by day he’s a highly respected business man. The benefactor of several high profile charities in and around the city of Amherst. But Eric Tanner, he knows the truth, now more than ever. Arliss Jacobsen is little more than a wolf in sheeps clothing, drug trafficking, illegal gambling and now murderer. And now Eric himself lost inside of the maze right along with everyone else, and he’s desperate to find the exit. He raises the glass to his lips and stares out the window. How a world that seems so calm on the surface could, be so spiraling out of control?
“This is some crazy shit Eric, beyond crazy.”
Behind him he hears his wife heading toward the front door.
“Could you call jimmy’s school and let them know we’re going to be in Grandview for a few days?”
He nods and she walks out the door and closes it behind her.

Oh
The rules have changed today (Hey)
I have no place to stay (Hey)
I'm thinking about the subway (Hey)
My love has flown away (Hey)

My tears have come and gone (Hey)
Oh my Lord, I have to roam (Hey)
I have no home (Hey)
I have no home (Hey

He arrives outside of the Barris Towers building B, just before 9:00 PM. He draws in a deep breath before pushing open the double glass doors leading into the lobby. It is empty save for three guards at the security desk. They are getting ready to make their rounds when the desk officer spots him.
“Here to see Arliss Jacobsen Mr. Tanner?” he asks.
Eric Tanner nods.
“He’s on the top floor, waiting for you.”
“Yeah. I know how to find it. Thanks.”
He takes the elevator to the 30th floor and makes a beeline for the office of Arliss Jacobsen. He pauses momentarily to collect himself; he has always found his visits here with Mr. Jacobsen to be very unsettling. He knocks until a low muffled voice tells him to enter. He is very tall with long dark hair, perhaps in his mid to late 30’s. Arliss Jacobsen is a rather imposing figure, muscular, lean, with dark eyes that Eric Tanner thinks bears a striking resemblance to those of a great white shark‘s. He is wearing a dark blue, well tailored pen stripe suit; and has his back facing the door with both hands clasped at the wrists behind him, when Eric Tanner enters.

He fidgets nervously waiting for him to turn around to acknowledge him. Sensing the tension, Jacobsen motions for him to sit. Eric Tanner can feel his blood pressure rising, it almost feels as though he is about to address the devil himself.
“Pour yourself a drink Eric, you look like hell.”
“I’m fine sir, what exactly is it that you wanted to see me about?”
He turns to face him now.
“Very well. Down to business then. How did it go with the police yesterday?”
“Fine I guess.”
“You guess?”
“Bon Howard from the 22nd is on board now, Justin Tarrow and Aaron Finley too. But there may be a problem in the 15th.”
“I thought that all of the key players in the 15th were already ours. We even have a lieutenant in our pocket there don’t we?”

He begins to rub his palms together nervously, looking down at his feet.
“Keppler and Boone. They’re going to be a problem; they’re like a couple of pit bulls. They won‘t take our bait.”
Arliss Jacobsen eyes him curiously.
“Is there something else bothering you Eric?”
“Well sir, I thought that you wanted to stay low key, bombing an Army recruiting office? That’s going to attract a lot of attention. Never mind from the police, the feds are going to be all over this.”
Arliss Jacobsen scoffs.
“Relax, No one can tie us to the bombing, The League did it independently, they wanted to make a statement, It will work out for us in the long run anyways.”
“How so?”
“The world is a very angry place Eric, lots of protest, lots of mistrust within the public at large. Everybody hates this war with the Viennese; mistrust of the government is at an all time high. They hate the fascist war mongers and the feds are a bunch of morons. They are going to be chasing all of the false leads that we’re providing for them for the next ten years, but we must keep the prying eyes of the police department away from our business. We can keep the feds chasing the Human Action League around in circles forever, but we need to keep local law enforcement busy.”

He leans back in his chair beginning to reconsider the drink offer. Arliss Jacobsen motions toward the wet bar, and Eric Tanner walks over to pour himself a drink.
“Keppler and Boone scare you do they?”
His eyes follow Eric Tanners every move.
“Not so much Boone, but Matthew Keppler, he’s really smart, tough too. And you know it was those two that pinched Tommy Willis.”
“Yes well, Tommy Willis is no longer of concern, stabbed to death in prison I believe wasn’t he?”
“The bombing. Four blocks from the 15th prescinct, Keppler is going to get nosy, I can feel it.”
Arliss Jacobsen leans back in his chair and smiles.

“You know- when I was a kid we had this dog, he used to sit out in our front yard on a chain barking at every car that passed by our house. he would get up and run after them until he reached the end of the chain. My father would come out and yell at him, swat him with a news paper and made him sit. Then one day day my father came out and unhooked the chain and opened the front gate. A car came by he chased it four blocks before he gave up and finally came home. Theres no particular reason for dogs to chase after cars. Most do it simply because they need something to chase after.”

Now the time has come (Time)
There's no place to run (Time)
I might get burned up by the sun (Time)
But I had my fun (Time)
I've been loved and put aside (Time)
I've been crushed by the tumbling tide (Time)
And my soul has been psychedelicized (Time)

(Time)
Now the time has come (Time)
There are things to realize (Time)
Time has come today (Time)
Time has come today (Time)

He considers what Arliss Jacobsen told him, Subterfuge, make the dog chase the car so he doesn’t notice that the fox is already in the hen house. With a renewed sense of urgency and determination he sits up all night searching tirelessly for just the right distraction. His buzzer rings at 9:00 AM. When he opens the door he is stunned to see Arliss Jacobsen.
“I believe I’ve found what your looking for Eric.”
“Sir.”
“His name is Troy Blake, he’s a custodian at the 22nd presinct, he’s been working with a reporter from the Times on a story involving city wide police corruption. Rumor has it, that he even has a little black book full of names of people that are on my payroll there and at the 15th. I’ve been having him followed, I know where he’s been staying. He has a cousin being discharged from the Army, Sgt. Edward Craig, war hero, he’s coming home this week. Too many protesters at the airport here, He’ll probably be coming in from Ashford by bus. Have someone sitting on the bus terminal, Troy Blake is going to be picking him up. Contact our lieutenant inside the 15th tell him to take care of them both. Find that book at any cost. And Eric?”
“Yes?”
“Tell them to make it look… Political.”

Arliss Jacobsen turns and walks toward the limo as Eric Tanner watches him. the knot he’d been feeling for the past day or so in his stomach resurfaces, he walks back inside the brownstone. On the coffee table; in morning paper the story of Sgt Eddie Craig in the lower right hand corner of the front page reads; War hero cleared of all charges in military court, Eddie Craig is coming home. Political?
It suddenly becomes clear, the world is in chaos, the country is up in arms over the war. The Human Action League remains as one of the strongest opponents of military prensence in Vien-Tom, A war hero comes home to be made an example of by the anti war movement. He walks into the den, sits down at his desk and dials a number from the phones memory. The phone almost immediately goes to voice mail, the voice of officer Aaron Finley crackles over the phones speaker.-click- you have reached 555- 416-3251 please leave your name and number along with a brief message at the tone.
“Aaron, its me Eric, Call me back as soon as you can. We have to talk.”
Now he would need to be in touch with the lieutenant in the 15th precinct. They had a lot of work to do before Eddie Craig got off the plane at Ashford.

Oh
Now the time has come (Time)
There's no place to run (Time)
I might get burned up by the sun (Time)
But I had my fun (Time)
I've been loved and put aside (Time)
I've been crushed by tumbling tide (Time)
And my soul has been psychedelicized (Time)

(Time)
Now the time has come (Time)
There are things to realize (Time)
Time has come today (Time)
Time has come today (Time)

~Scratch. A.B.T. Copyright © 2011~

~Time Has Come Today- By The Chambers Brothers. Copyright ©1966. All rights reserved.~


This Flash Player was created @ FlashWidgetz.com.

podmatrixflash fetishmyspace fetish

Romania, December 25th, 1590.
He hadn’t even removed the bastard sword from his waist when he’d first heard her call out his name. his eyes focused on the rooms upstairs. “Vasille” it had to be him, and he had returned to feed on his mother. He could feel his lungs burning inside of his chest, he was running- almost frantically up the stone stairwell that wound its way up through the two story house. He could clearly hear the echoes of his mother’s screams as they reverberated throughout the walls, he almost jumped through the air throwing himself against the heavy wooden door, and as it burst open, he could see her lying on the floor, still, his half brother Vasille crouched over her, his eyes seemed almost inhuman as he turned to face Chapel.

He was smiling, his mothers fresh blood running down his crimson lips and onto his chin. he was laughing under his breath.
“Your mother was delicious Brother.” He laughed wickedly.
“Vasille! you monster! what have you done?”
He slowly rose to his feet his eyes never leaving his half brother Nicolae. He stared in shocked disbelief down at the now dead body of his mother.
“So. It would appear as though you now have a decision to make brother. In a short time she’ll turn, she will become like me, so you have to kill her or kill me, but you have to do it now, choose one but you can’t kill us both.” Vasille laughed.

Chapel stared down at her body briefly and then back up at Vasille Vladu. Slowly moving forward, retrieving a hammer and wooden stake from the night table. Now his eyes were completely focused on Vasille. Who had fully turned to face him.
“As you can see- brother, I have been expecting your return, but even I never suspected you cowardly enough to attack my mother, so I guess I’ll have to kill you first.” He growled at Vasille.
But rather than face his angered brother, he swiftly bolted out the two glass double doors and over the side of the balcony and out into the cold dark Romanian night.
“Ne vom intalni din nou…. Brother.” He said almost under his breath.

He bent down and cradled his mother’s body in his arms and rose to his feet. His half brother had officially become a monster, and had to be stopped before others were to be left dead in his wake. He carried her down stairs where he almost gently laid her body on a table, he pointed the wooden stake over her heart- his eyes tearing up now rolled skyward.
“God.. Forgive me.”
He hammered the stake deep into her chest. He stood over her for a time, before placing a second wooden stake in his inside coat pocket and then returning to the entrance to the house.

He walked across the wooden floor spilling the oil lamps fuel as he went, stepping out of the door as he lit it and pausing to watch the flames spread and then climb the sides of the walls. Within minutes the entire structured had become engulfed in the sea of fire, knowing in his heart that he would never return here and knowing fully well what he now had to do. He walked into the woods almost in a daze, and reached the edge of the lake before he realized that he was being followed, she stepped through the tree’s and stopped at the edge of the woods. He drew in a deep breath before turning to face her. He knew without looking- that it was the female that had turned Vasille into the monster that he had now had become. Her name was Afina, she was beautiful, or at least that was the illusion, long black hair, beautiful face, perfect body, but in reality all she was to Chapel was just another monster.

And yet there was something in the back of his mind was taunting him, “To catch a monster, you must be willing to become one.”
“I have been watching you.” she said.
“I know you have.”
“So sad about your- mother. So sad.”
To Afina’s surprise, he refused to back away when she approached him, even more strangely, he seemed almost willing to allow her to feed on him, she drew closer, young Chapel refused to move, Even when her canines bared. He exposed his throat to her, allowing her to bite him. His knees buckled but he refused to fall, instead pulling her in closer gritting his teeth as she fed, She didn't know why, and once she started she didn't care. That is until she tried to pull away after she felt the curious tingle in her chest.

When she saw him thrust the wooden stake into her heart fully they both staggered backwards and fell to the ground. He struggled to his feet and slowly began to circle her, remembering the bastard sword that he had never removed from his waist. He slowly pulled it from his its scabbard remembering his mothers screams, the demonic- unfamiliar look of blood lust in his half brothers eyes. Knew that he himself would soon become one of them. But unlike them- vowing before the god above, that he wouldn’t allow the devilish desires to consume him, though undead he would become, he vowed too, that he would never stop until he had come face to face once again with Vasille Vladu and purged his existence from the earth.

He raised the blade of the sword up above her neck and with a smooth long stroke he removed her head. He drove a long wooden spike into the ground near the water, and impaled her head onto it clearly in view of where he knew Vasille would find it. He had always been drawn here to this place since they were children, he had always loved this lake so, and even though the water posed a serious danger to Vasille now, Chapel knew that eventually he wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to return to this place and he would find Afina’s remains and the message he would leave for him.
“We will meet again…. Brother.”
He removed a white handkerchief from his pocket and tied it around his neck. Now he would return to the woods and wait for the inevitable. She had taken more than enough to turn him.

December 29th, 1944.
He had hunted him through three whole centuries and into a forth, and while he had come close to causing the extinction of Vasille Vladu on several occasions, he had never quite gotten just the right opportunity to rid the world of his brother’s curse until now. Now though- there they were face to face, three hundred and fifty four years after the fact. The murderer of his mother, the man, the monster that he had hunted for so long now stood before him. This time he would ensure that there would be no resurrection. He silently circled him never speaking a word. And when he smelled the slightest hint of fear he knew that he finally had him.
“Still you cling to the remnants of a long dead past. Still you thirst for revenge for your mother. Still you long for my demise. But what of those you took from me through these many years Nicolae? Are they not worthy of my revenge on you? For me it isn’t. personal.”

Chapel said nothing as he continued slowly circling him, Vasille Vladu moved until his back was against the wall and he could retreat no further. He squinted and bared his canines and made a hissing sound, but Chapel remained unmoved. Until without warning he brutally attacked him with all of the venom and anger he could muster. Vasille would try to defend himself but quickly realized that he had been away for too many years and it was only a matter of time. Battered and weak he lay in a pile of hay as Chapel removed the kerosene lantern from the support post in the middle of the barn and began to pour the liquid from it. His eyes never left Vasille Vladu as he lit the match and tossed it into the hay - almost instantly the fire consumed him.. His screams echoed through the night air as Chapel watched in silent indifference as the building burnt to the ground with him inside it. This time there would be no resurrection.

He watched from the distance as people came to try to contain the blaze, and when he could no longer feel his brothers presence he knew that finally he was gone. But there was soon a new feeling around him, somewhere close. A feeling of loss, of hopelessness, of anger and resentment. He recognized them as feelings that he too at least at one time had felt though the years. He turned to look through the dark woods, there at the very edge of his perception was the presence. And through the cold night air he could hear Sipe’s voice coming through the tree’s as though it were riding the wind.
“Nice fire Chapel. Is he gone then?”
He turned to look back at the waning light from the flames. He stared for a moment. Before slowly nodding to the affirmative.

He stared silently down into the fire now barely visible, the voices of those that had been fighting it, screaming at each other through the darkness.
“Finally.” He muttered.
“And what of the others like us?”
“Others?”
“Well. There are others like us out there in the cold cruel world. Isn’t there Chapel?”
“More than a few I’ve heard.”
“So what’s it like then? Never knowing the sun, always hiding, running from the world, just beyond the shadows. It won’t be much of a life that I have ahead of me will it? I mean I only ask you because you‘re the obvious expert.”
Chapel turned to face the cold voice pondering the question.
“Do not confuse what you have with a life. You’re life was never yours in the first place. You just never realized it, no one ever does.”

~Scratch.. A.B.T. Copyright © 2010~

December 29th, Chateau De l'obscurité, 17 miles outside Paris France.
Vasille Vladu’s anger resounded along the empty hallways of the Chateau, his deep voice shouting- then caring little about who might hear the tirade. Strangely though the underling Sipe stood unmoved, unaffected by the anger Vasille Vladu displayed at him. Instead Sipe began to raise his own angry voice, yelling back at Vladu leaving him slightly surprised.
“I thought I made it clear, No one was to harm Marie Clavette! I wanted to face Chapel at a time of my own choosing Sipe -your treachery will surely bring him here!” Vasille Vladu yelled.
“My treachery? It was he who struck first by taking Nastasia’s head! Have you no feelings about that Vasille? I took an eye for an eye, my treachery? Do you not feel MY rage Vasille Vladu? She loved YOU not me, and yet I saw fit to avenge her, while you tremble at the very mention of Chapels name, I took action, so what if he comes? let him I say! So what will you do devil? Cower in the corner like a frightened school boy?”

He’d barely gotten the last word from his lips when an outraged Vasille Vladu struck him down viciously. Battering Sipe with a relentless attack, slashing at him with talon like fingernails. And yet each time- Sipe would get up and come back for more, just to be battered again. Finally bloodied and beaten Vasille Vladu wrapped his cold undead fingers around Sipe’s throat and lifted him into the air.
“And now underling- you shall pay for your insolence, now I shall remove your pitiful existence from this world-” Vasille Stopped in mid sentence. He cocked his head to one side, somewhat puzzled. Sipe’s black and reddened lips slowly spread into a sly smile and he began to cackle incessantly as though he had completely taken leave of his senses. Suddenly Vasille Vladu could feel the discomfort growing inside of him.
“And what are you to do with me Vasille Vladu? Kill me? Have not you and Nastasia already taken any resemblance to what I once had to any normal life? Have you not already killed me? Made me into the animal that I have become? Go on then Vampire God! Finish what you have started!” Sipe spat in his face.

It was all he needed to make Vasille loosen his grip ever so slightly, and suddenly Sipe lurched forward clawing and biting with every ounce of anger and venom he possessed, with all his strength- finally sinking his teeth into Vasille’s shoulder causing him great pain and even more anger. He slammed Sipe’s body down onto the cold marble floor and began to beat on him even more relentlessly than before, and still Sipe’s insane cackling caused him to stop. The temperature seemed to drop drastically as Vasille slowly began to scan the dark room cautiously. He was getting stronger with each passing night but still wasn’t at full strength, and most certainly not ready for what he knew was coming for him.
Sipe’s laughter slowly subsided as he began to make pathetic gurgling sounds in between sentences, the blood spraying from his lips with every word.
“Can you feel that Vasille?….. Heeeessss Coming forrrrr yoooou!! Hehehehehehehehehe-- HA!HA!HA!HA!HA!..“
He stood abruptly and walked to the window. No. He wasn’t ready yet. Another time Chapel another time.
He pushed the double glass door open and left the cackling Sipe behind him.



He didn’t have to see him to know that he was there, it was obvious that there was another of his kind present, but it wasn’t Vasille Vladu, a much smaller male, the same one that killed Marie Clavette. He was curled up in a ball in the corner, almost in a fetal position. He sat up abruptly when Chapel approached. The moonlight came through the window and he could see his red eyes. The sly smile reappeared across his black lips. He began to giggle.
“Well, well, we meet again, Chapel is it? Well Chapel- you missed the party.. Sad to say.. King Vladu left early. I think he’s afraid of what you’ll do to him. What you’ve already done to him… at least once or twice before I suspect. Ay Chapel?”
He didn’t answer, he stood in front of the door where moments ago Vasille had beat his hasty retreat. His arms were both calmly folded behind him. Sipe knew right then that this one wouldn’t be so easily unsettled by his implied insanity.
“You two… have a history… do you?”
Chapel didn’t answer. Sipe slowly began to piece together the startling revelation.
“Hmmmmm… Related…. Perhaps?”

Sipe staggered to his feet, slowly trying to move in behind Chapel.
“Ahhhhhh…. He made you… didn’t… he?”
Chapels hand grabbed his throat choking his words off. Mmmmmmm. This one was much stronger- now he understood why Vasille had chosen to wait. He turn his head now looking him square in the eyes.. Any previous hint of humor had now left Sipe’s face.
And then as suddenly as he grabbed him he let go, letting the small vampire fall to the cold marble floor gasping for breath. He stepped around him walking out onto the balcony, Sipe once again struggled to his feet. He slowly reached a finger out to touch him but pulled back at the last second.
“Soooo. What then? You gotta score to settle have you?”
Chapel’s dark eyes cast him a cold sideways glance.
“What Vasille Vladu and I are to each other is of no concern to you- insect.. What you need concern yourself with at the moment is what I should do with You.” He turned to face Sipe.
“Ohhhh yeah. I killed your girl. Didn’t I?. well you DID kill mine first.”

Chapel turned to face him fully, slowly walking towards him, when the distant howls of a pack of dogs stopped him. He turned once again to face the balcony. it appeared as though he wasn’t the only one who hunted Vasille Vladu this night. Sipe crawled up behind him, looking up first at Chapel and then to the sounds of the howling dogs.
“Hmmm. Appears as though Vasille is causing a bit of a fuss out there, aye Chapel?” He giggled.
He didn’t answer. he listened quietly as the sounds of angry men and animals echoed throughout the cold dark French countryside. He ignored Sipe’s incessant rambling until finally he turned to look down at him. He slowly backed him into the corner.
“I will deal with you at a time of my choosing insect, this night I have more pressing matters that require my attention.” He said.

He left Sipe cowering in the corner to ponder his pending fate and began to follow the sounds of howling and shouts of angry men hidden deep within the darkness, knowing full well that when he came close enough to Vasille Vladu he would simply be able to feel it. he stepped out from behind the tall farm house to listen to the direction of the hunting pack. he knew that Vasille Vladu would be in the opposite direction, there he would find him in the woods. He pressed on farther and farther, deeper into the trees. Letting Vasille’s own presence guide him to his location, until finally behind him the howling seemed to be fading in the distance, he stepped into the clearing and there standing all alone amongst the remnants of Bomb damaged house’s was a single structure which looked like a two story Barn. he could feel him even stronger now, Vasille Vladu was closer than ever before. he stepped into the large opening and closed his eyes. he was above him.
“I didn’t want to believe that you were strong enough to find me so quickly.”

He could hear Vasille Vladu’s cold voice softly echoing through the structure. but offered no response.
“You have come for a reckoning then have you?” Vasille was stalling.
Again Chapel offered no response.
“You still carry around with you memories of the past as do I, you can not forget or forgive what I have done to you, nor can I forgive what you have done to me.. So here we are Chapel. So? what are we to do now?”
He could feel Chapels anger rising slowly. he moved down towards the floor inching his way closer until finally stepping out into the moonlight that shone down through the doorway. he could see Chapels eyes. cold. dark. Piercing. and very angry.
“Hello brother.” Vasille said.
Chapel slowly moved forward.
“Your treachery on this earth ends tonight Vasille. this time. for good.”


~Scratch.. A.B.T. Copyright © 2010~