From War, To Extinction

Chapter 7: The Fear Inspirer

Michael and Alexander reach the outskirts of one of Antigen's facilities, already spotting guard towers, squadrons on watch, and even guard dogs prowling in the dark. The pouring down gives them enough cover to hide them from prying eyes, which makes Michael more comfortable; if Alexander tries something, he kill him without anyone noticing. Michael sniffs around, smelling a strong scent of smoke and gun powder, indicating the use of grenade launchers in the area.
"Yeah, I smell it to," Alexander comments. "Antigen wants to make sure Subject Seventeen doesn't escape from his little enclosure, poor bastard."
"Who is Subject Seventeen? Why would Antigen operate so many guards to make sure a Subject so far down the line-"
"Won't escape?" Alexander scoffs. "He's not just an ordinary Vampire, Michael, he calls himself 'The Inspirer of Fear', he's the type that doesn't like to kill his prey, but instead, toy with them."
"How so?" Michael questions, staring at a nearby guard, his claws retracting from his finger nails.
"He's a master of illusions, his name is Bartholomew Jameson, used to put on illusion shows for kids. Then, during the Second Purge, he was bitten and turned by a Vampire. Somehow, when he transitioned into Immortal Status, his ability to create illusions evolved. Using an unknown Vampire ability, he can make anyone see anything he wants them to, which normally involves the things they fear the most. I don't know how he does it, but he reads people before they come inside, and he knows straight away."
"The Inspirer of Fear, huh?" Michael scoffs, wiping some water from his beard. "He rips into my mind and I'll rip into his chest, just to make that clear. Why do you we need so bad anyway?"
"Seeing he knows how to activate some of his own abilities, I'm sure he'll know how to open your mind and reveal the secrets of yours. I mean no offence, Michael, your mind is strong and all, his ability to break inside of them is stronger."
"And if you're wrong?" Michael says, questioning Alexander's logic. "Have you thought about what happens then?"
"We either leave him inside of his cage, or kill him?"
"Alexander Krasper," Michael chuckles, a smile prying itself onto his face. "You're continuing to impress me more and fucking more."
"Glad I could be of service," Alexander chuckles back.

Michael slips on his leather hoodie, moving towards the gate with Alexander, feeling the light from one of the watch-towers glare onto his body.
"FREEZE!" One of the Antigen soldiers screams, aiming his weapon at both Michael and Alexander. "DON'T FUCKING MOVE!"
"At ease soldier," Alexander says, placing his hands up in the air. "Lower your weapons."
"It's Alexander, let him inside."
"No sir or Mr?" Michael whispers, smirking at his acquaintance.
"I don't like to be treated like my father, because I'm not my father, so I asked them to treat me like one of them."
"Fair enough," Michael comments, watching the gate as it slowly opens.
A group of four heavily armed Antigen soldiers walk through the gates, staring at Alexander, and then a hooded Michael.
"Who's this shit heel?" One of the soldiers growls, directly facing Michael.
"My newest bodyguard," Alexander lies, stepping in front of the solider. "Trust me, Commander, he prefers wearing the hood, and you'd regret it if you tried to take it off."
"Is this piece of shit even worth paying? Has he killed any Vampires? Lycans?!"
"Actually, we encountered a Vampire on our way here, tried to assassinate me. Now, this 'shit heel' as you called him, ripped its head off with his bare hands."
"Bare hands?" The Commander questions, staring at Michael with widened eyes. "He's one of the-"
"Experiment's of my father?" Alexander asks, looking more serious than ever. "Yes, precisely why he's spending his time guarding me from those disgusting beings, don't piss him off or he'll kill you. Trust me when I say, I have no control over what he does to any of you."
The conversation is left a thick layer of silence, too thick to be broken away by a simple topic, so Alexander starts a more important conversation.
"Back to business; Subject Seventeen? How is he coping to the rehabilitation?"
"Not much has changed believe it or not, he continues to fight against it. We send one of the handler's to take off Seventeen's mask as he slept, and well, he removed the handler's hands, making a pun in the process."
"I see his psychotic sense of humour still continues to exist," Alexander comments. "I'd say that's interesting, but I'd be lying in that case.."
"Precisely. The Anti-Hallucinogenics are working though, so he hasn't gotten into somebody's mind in a long while."
"At least we're a success on some things."

Alexander and Michael enter the gates with the soldiers, following them into the large facility connected to the rest of the base. As they enter the facility, Alexander and Michael pass masses and masses of guards, armed to the teeth and heavily armoured. Each guard has decorated armor, like battle scars, features that make them different from one another, like hunters with different experiences; like a bite to a claw mark.
"Not long now," the Commander comments. "Apologies for the extra security, the handler wasn't the only one that Seventeen had gotten to."
"In that case, report," Alexander commands the Commander, something that makes Michael chuckle under his breath.
"Six casualties; Thomas, Jane, Michael, Damien and Clark. Before we had the medication, Seventeen had gotten into their heads, make them open fire on one another, it was a slaughter. If it wasn't for your father's orders to keep him alive for further experimentation, I would have executed the cunt myself."
"At ease, Commander, my guard and I, we're going to speak to him."
"You're going to go inside of the cage?" The Commander asks.
"Yes, if he tries anything, my guard will take care of it, trust me."
"Have you taken the Anti-Hallucinogenics?! I know your man won't need it due to the mutations."
"Yes, Commander, I have. Shall we?"
"Let them inside."

Michael and Alexander enter the large, glass cage, instantly seeing Subject Seventeen standing in one of the corners, his back to them.
"You owe me an explanation on those experiments," Michael growls. "Death-Squad members?"
"In due time, I'll tell you everything, let's just do this first."
"Michael stares at the figure in the corner; orange clothes, a large gas tank strapped to his back, and what looks like a gas mask tied to his face, with a tube from the mask connected to the tank. The door shuts.
"I know what you're think, stranger," Bartholomew growls, his voice dark and extremely deep, kinda' monstrous in a way. "The gas tank; what is inside? I'll answer that question, as long as you're ready for the answer. Alexander, pleasure to see you again, your arm healed quicker than I thought."
"No thanks to you, Mr Jameson."
"Please," Bartholomew shrieks. "Call me Matthew, I'm sure you earned that right. Well, aren't you going to introduce me to your friend? Fine, I'll do it myself."
Matthew launches himself towards Michael, using his Vampire speed to exert into a blur. Michael catches Matthew by the throat, lifting him upwards and throwing him back into a wall, cracking it and sending a few shards down with Matthew.
"Yes, let's talk business," Michael growls. "We may have a job for you, Mr Jameson, maybe."
"Eh-" Matthew groans, cracking his back and neck. "I'm listening."