Blood and Beasts

Chapter 37

The tension Abraham felt as he returned to the Sanctum was palpable, stinging the air. Brother Jebadiah was the one to meet him at the entrance, an old converted mineshaft, on the surface now functioning as an office space for pharmaceutical development. Abraham had made the two-mile journey underground on his own; Brother Raul had gone to the private airfield where the vampire Elias was being shipped to, overseeing that all went according to Nefertari's promises. Jebadiah looked grim, which instantly sent a heavy throb from Abraham's guts to his balls.

"What is it?" Abraham demanded.

"A problem. A severe one," Jebadiah said, not mincing words.

"Well?" Impatience seethed through his lips.

"It is best if you come see for yourself." Abraham considered striking Jebadiah in his dreary face, striking him bloody for keeping him in suspense, but Abraham had trust in this man and stayed his frustration. Abraham waved his hand to be led.

The walk through the winding underground passages was one Abraham had taken often, hours of walking depending on which entry point was used, but the hour journey from the mineshaft felt like the longest he had ever experienced in these tunnels. The unease grew as they moved in the direction of the cells, the chamber where the werewolves were held, where Mitchel Crawford, one of the trinity, was held. Abraham tried to stave off the possibilities that threatened to overwhelm his mind as he stepped into the chamber and saw the rows of his Brothers and Sisters standing next to Crawford's cell. There was no point to imagining. What was would be, he had just to step through that door. A door, he saw as he got closer, which already stood partially ajar. He also took note of the sleek stains of blood just a few paces before the door. Whatever bodies had been there had already been moved away.

"The guards?" Abraham asked of Jebadiah, indicating the blood. He nodded. Jebadiah grabbed a lantern from one of the other Brothers and pushed open the door, leading the way.

Abraham felt he was walking into a vision, something he may have witnessed in a dream in the past, as it held a surreal quality. Blood splattered across the floor and walls in arching brushes, almost artistic. He saw the girl first, naked except for a red sheet draped around her. Her chest was ripped open by bestial claws, from naval to throat, and her heart removed. She was laying on the floor like this, just ahead of her killer, the giant silver werewolf that had once gone by the name Mitchel Crawford. He would no longer go by any name. He was dead, with an ax buried deep into his skull and gut slit open, stomach juices spilling out towards the dead girl, almost spilling her out it seemed. And standing above this, one hand resting lazily on the hilt of the ax was John Delaney, a haunting smile gracing his face. He only had one arm to rest now, as his right was missing. Abraham surveyed the rest of the room and saw the arm off to the side, along with a number of discarded tranquilizer darts. Abraham turned back to Delaney, shock and fury dancing on his face in the flickering lantern light. And Delaney just smiled.

"Why?" Abraham eventually managed, uncharacteristically at a loss for words.

"I had one more... story to tell. I'm done now," Delaney said with a satisfied sigh.

"You fool. You stupid fool," Abraham hissed. Delaney laughed that slow wheezing laugh his dead lungs would allow.

"I did what I was... meant to, my purpose. I heard your God... Lucifer's voice in that pool... I heard it and I listened."

"You didn't listen, and I was foolish to think you ever could. You're a psychopath. I cannot fathom why you were chosen, you have now put everything in jeopardy." Delaney released his grip on the ax and shuffled closer, stepping around the large werewolf corpse. Delaney knelt and picked up his missing arm.