Happy Wednesday! This week's story is inspired by the Aesop's Fable, The Trumpeter Taken Prisoner. A story about an army trumpeter who is being sentenced to death with the other prisoners of war. I hope you enjoy!
A Beautiful Monster
Kraus walked softly down the hallway, an impressive feat from one so massive. Kraus stood nearly seven feet tall, with shoulders that could provide comfortable seating for two grown adults. His black track suit hung loose over his overly muscled frame, which would allow him room to maneuver if things were to turn ugly. Though, one does not typically employ the services of an Ursin if they did not expect things to get, at least, a little ugly.
Touching a button on his ear piece, Kraus released a deep rumbling that was meant to be his best attempt at a whisper. “Are we clear on approach?”
A lighter, but just as serious voice responded, “All good on our end. Cameras are on a loop, motion sensors are off, and your charm should block you from any sensing glyphs. Rich and Terry are on the roof in case things move outside.”
“Very good.” He rumbled. “Moving to issue the contract now. Standby and stay alert.”
Kraus rose to his full height and stepped out into the hallway leading to the ornate black and gold door at the end. Behind the door was the office of one, William R. Hershler, successful stock broker, award winning writer, and philanthropist for the sick children of the Pacific Northwest. Listed as a tier three Averial, Hershler is said to possess a number of exceptional abilities that can make him a danger to any who would choose to engage him.
With a deep breath, Kraus slightly released his hold on his carnal nature. His muscles swelled and ached as they filled in the track suit. His hands and feet thickened, each nail turned black and grew out half an inch. Every part of his body screamed to be released, to let the bear out, but he reigned it in. There may be a need to let go soon, but right now he needed to be able to think clearly.
By the time he had reached the door, his change was under control and he reached out to knock. A few seconds went by until he heard the door unlock and crack open. A small man, with slicked back hair and a pristine black suit appeared. A confused look was on his face, presumably wondering how someone so large could have made it to the door without some sort of notice.
“May I help you?” the man said coldly.
Kraus could smell the anxiety growing in the man.
“I am here to see Mr. Hershler.” Kraus rumbled.
The man looked about uncomfortably. “I am sorry, but Mr. Hershler is busy right now, and is only seen by appointment. If you go down to the front desk, you can schedule...”
Kraus pushed the door open and moved past the door man. “Due to the nature of my business, I don’t do appointments. I do thank you, however, for confirming that he is here.”
The door man had a fierce scowl as he attempted to scurry in front of Kraus. “Sir! You cannot be in here! If you do not leave now, I will have to call security on you!”
“Why don’t you do that. In the meantime, I will be having a word with your boss.” Kraus said dismissively.
The waiting room was more of a lounge than anything else. The room had an ultra-contemporary look, with sleek black leather couches and chairs. A full bar, with a giant mirror behind it, dominated one corner of the room. Straight ahead, on the far wall, a set of double doors, shined to a polish, with stainless-steel handles, marked the entrance to Hershler’s office.
The door man raced ahead of Kraus to get to the doors and pop his head in, but Kraus threw the door open wide, pushing the stammering man out of the way.
A Ken doll of a man, with lightly tanned skin, perfectly parted blonde hair, and a physique they wish for at Abercrombie, was leaning on the front of the oversized redwood desk. Kraus could see the multitude of runes, glyphs, and wards inscribed upon the edges of the desk. He was certainly prepared to have his hornets’ nest kicked.
“William Hershler.” Kraus boomed. “I am Gerald Kraus of Special Operations and by order of the Council of Pierce County, I have been given a warrant to detain you, by any means necessary, for violations against the Costa Rican Accords.”
Hershler raised an eyebrow and raised a palm towards Kraus. “The Costa Rican Accords? Now I know there must be some sort of mistake. I have never been involved in any type of human livestock breeding programs, so you must be going after the wrong person. Why don’t I make a few phone calls, and we can get this entire thing squared away.” Hershler reached for the phone on his desk, flashing Kraus a sly smile. The type that a predator would give, just before pouncing.
Kraus growled, expecting this type of reaction. The business type always think that they have some connection or clout that will put them above Council law. It never seems to work out too well for them, but they try anyway.
“There is no need.” Kraus’ voice was deep and slightly marred due to his form. He made up for it by over-articulating. “I am prepared to present you with grounds for which the warrant has been issued.”
Hershler put the phone back down and gestured to Kraus.
“We have traced financing and mercenary training camps to multiple shell companies. Each of those companies’ records lead back to Angel Enterprises in one way or another, and before you say that this is a big company and that you will look into the matter, know we already have and each of those transactions have been executed upon your secure signature. Now, I would like for this to go by without incident, but one way or another, Mr Hershler, you are coming with me.”
Kraus watched as Hershler began to tense up. Averials are a lot stronger than they look, and incredibly fast. As a were, Kraus had no worry of any charms or mind control abilities, but the real issue would be if he were able to get out the window. Kraus can do a lot of things, but flying is not one of them.
Hershler stood up and walked over to the mini bar against the side wall and poured himself a drink, whiskey by the smell. Kraus’ senses spiked for a moment. Something in the air smelled off, though it was hard to tell with all the magic being used in the place.
Sipping from his glass, Hershler turned towards Kraus. “I see where you are going with this, but I am simply a stock broker. I move a lot of money for a lot of people, including myself, in an effort to make profits. I can tell you for certain that I had no idea that the companies I had invested in were involved in such shady dealings.”
Kraus cut him off. “You financed and enabled others to operate in an illegal manner. Whether you were aware or not, and I find it hard to believe that someone like you would overlook such a detail, you are just as responsible for the death and enslavement of thousands of people. Now I will ask you one time. Will you come willingly?”
Hershler set his class down on the counter. “And what if I said no?” A smug look on his face.
“Oh, please do. I would like nothing better.” Kraus growled. He released a little more adrenaline. His muscles swelled, his bones popped as he began to grow in height. His face began to widen as his canine’s extended and grew.
“Is that supposed to scare me, Gerald is it?” Hershler’s face twisted in anger. “Well you have no idea who you are dealing with!” His golden wings flashed out over six feet to either side of him, but it was his eyes that caused Kraus to hesitate.
Certain creatures have certain tells. Averials have a golden sheen to their eyes when they use their abilities, but Hershler’s eyes did not flash gold, they flashed red.
“You’re a daemon?” Kraus’ voice was guttural, but he was not about to pull back from his form for conversation with a self-righteous daemon.
“Good eye, Gerald.” Hershler smiled. “My wards can only hide so much I guess, but now you will understand that I will have to decline your offer.”
Kraus took a step forward, ready to rush in, when he heard the tell-tale sound of a shotgun slide. A moment later he was thrown to the floor as the buckshot slammed into his side. His ribs burned, but it had been a normal shell and his body was already pushing the slug out and healing itself.
Reaching for the nearest lounge chair, Kraus threw it across the room, slamming into the doorman holding the tactical shotgun. The chair took him off his feet and slammed him hard into the wall. The gun slid across the floor.
Hershler raised his hands and summoned a stream of flames that consumed Klaus. Quickly covering his face, Klaus scrambled to his feet and ran straight through the flames at Hershler. Alarmed by the lack of cooked werebear before him, Hershler lifted into the air and shattered the window behind him with another stream of flames. Kraus grabbed the daemon by the ankle and slammed him hard into the marble floor. Using his advantage, Kraus yanked Hershler back towards him, grabbing ahold of one of his wings and snapping it with a quick twist of his hand. Hershler screamed in pain
Kraus pulled out a set of enchanted restraints and locked Hershler’s hands in front of him. A quick flash of red in his eyes, and his wings folded in, hidden behind him.
Hershler glaired at Kraus, blood running from his nose and a cut above his eye. “It was business. It was all just business.”
Kraus yanked him to his feet. “There is a very old saying, that I think applies here.”
Hershler raised an eyebrow.
“He who incites strife is as guilty as they who strive. Now move it, you have a court appearance.” Placing a hand on his earpiece. “Target secure, warrant served. We’re going to need a bus for the doorman.”
No comments:
Post a Comment