- Doomsday - Volume One: Gods and Monsters

Chapter 39: Lobo

[03/06/2054]

In the city of Cumaná, one of the largest cities in Venezuela and a cultural birthplace of Venezuelan independence and many other significant figures throughout the country's history, not is all as it would seem. Gangs and drug cartels infamous around the country for ruling with an iron-fist, their criminal actions proudly performed in city centres in the face of the public, have all scurried back into their deep and dark holes, because tonight, a certain individual who had struck utter terror into the hearts of the large and expansive criminal world, had arrived in the city, and arrived with a specific mission that this man would go to any lengths to accomplish.

Standing under a broken street lamp, enclosed in the darkness of the night, a tall figure leaned back against the side of a decrepit building, staring straight ahead of him towards the street, unflinching. Pulling a small container out of his pocket, a packet of cigarettes, the man pulled out a single stick, putting the box away, before lighting the individual smoke and placing it in the corner of his mouth. A few moments went by as the man stood still in the shadows, however this certain individual wasn't deterred. Looking around the area it was obvious that the law had no authority, not that it looked as if it attempted to assert any, from the man's observations all around the country, yet he had grown accustomed to these urban warzones, not that any of these low-tier thugs could lay a finger on him anyway. Quickly racing up the main road, a small convoy of vehicles sped their way past the man, said individual invisible in the night, before they took a right turn, all funnelling into a large industrial complex.

Analysing the gang members leaving their vehicles they appeared armed and ready for a fight, they very much expected someone or something to descend upon their little operation, as had happened to crime syndicates all around the country for the last year or so. Letting out a small huff of smoke, the thin line being pulled upwards, before the stick was dropped onto the floor and crushed under a heavy foot, before the individual began walking towards a dark alley adjacent to the complex. Under the passing lights of the working streetlights, the features of this man had become more evident, and gave off an intimidating aura, a far larger and broader individual than any of the gang members who had recently arrived. Dressed in a bright Hawaiian t-shirt, seemingly bursting at the seams, contrasted with a blank white undershirt, a dark pair of sunglasses and a beige straw panama hat, one would be mistaken to assume that this was simply some average tourist. Yet this man, with his long and unkempt hair and a constant stern expression grafted upon his face, exuded a tense atmosphere, most people not feeling safe around this giant of a man.

Cracking his knuckles, the man made his way through the dark alley, barren and empty with a simple white door in the middle of the backstreet, guarded by two armed young men, who didn't notice the large man at first. Strolling up with little concern, the large man, now only a few metres away from the thugs, gained their attention, who immediately began shouting at the man, "Hey gringo, this isn't a safe place for your kind, get the hell away!" One of the young men began, attempting to intimidate the large man who continued his march towards them. The other man spoke out, "Hey, puta madre, you deaf or something? He was speaking to you!' While raising his rifle up-towards the man, his grip on the weapon shaking slightly, it was clear that these two young people hadn't been a part of this gang for very long.

Yet, this did little to stop the man, who, now standing only a few feet away from the two young men, instantly intimidated them with his presence, his size and strength evident. One of the young men however didn't like the silence from the newcomer, forcing the barrel of his rifle into the face of the taller man, continuing his barrage of insults, attempting to tell the man to leave. What the gang member was not expecting was for the giant man to simply grab the end of the barrel and rip it off with ease, a face of dread washing over the two men. The young man watching from the side-lines let out a whisper, "I-its h-him, E-el D-día Del J-juicio..." The fear was evident within his voice as he struggled to make out his words.