A Raven In Exile's Woods

By Michael A. Burt

From the fire of Section Eight's annihilation, a new enemy emerges. The arrival of Azalie Ravenwood has brought death to the Brute's doorstep once again. Decan's assigned to the investigation as a U.S. Marshall, and he's right in the line of Azalie's cross-hairs. Suspicion rises when Decan receives messages from her at the scenes, leaving one question. What is the truth of Decan Morris?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michael A. Burt
• Release date: Jul 14, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476474564

Michael A. Burt

Last year I started writing submissions for the Creepy Podcast, and they accepted quite a few of them. I decided to publish these stories in volumes, but as I continued to write, the stories began to get longer than the word capacity for the podcast. Most of the stories in Volume II are longer than they appear in the podcast. All of Volume III will be longer than what is on the podcast.

Book preview

A Raven In Exile’s Woods

By

Michael A. Burt.

SMASHWORDS EDITION

. . . . .

PUBLISHED BY:

Michael A. Burt at Smashwords

A Raven In Exile’s Woods

Copyright © 2012 Michael A. Burt

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

Adult Reading Material

Table Of Contents

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

A RAVEN IN EXILE’S WOODS

A figure encompassed by darkness stands in front of a standard wooden chair. It’s sturdy as long as you don’t pick it up and try to break it on someone’s back like they do in wrestling. The only thing that’s different from this one and another that sits at a dining room table would be the unconscious man bound to it with electrical tape.

Small in size, but big in influence. Todd Meeks is no one to be taken lightly. He’s a man that knows people, knows how to get information, and knows just who’ll pay top dollar for it. Not long ago he was caught snooping in areas inside the Den where he wasn’t welcome.

The man in shadows decides to find out what it was Meeks saw that got him put on the hit-list. The only thing that isn’t certain is how much pain it’ll take for Todd to talk. He’s not a fighter, not used to pain. His nails are manicured and hands too soft, never worked a hard day in his life. It might not take much to get him to talk. Then again, who says he has to stop at all?

Todd stumbles back from dream land to fall into his body. What’s this about? he asks when he finds the tape keeping him in place. Normally electrical tape wouldn’t be enough to hold a Garou in place, but there’s a lot of it and it’s tight enough to cut off circulation if he starts struggling. Waking up like this he thinks there should be some after effects to a tranquilizer. Instead his head throbs on one side from being hit. He would’ve chosen the drugs if he could’ve.

There’s a man who sticks to the shadows, not letting himself be seen. You’ve been a very bad boy Todd. The voice makes the statement sound like a principle speaking to a wayward student.

Meeks tries to see through the darkness, but it yields nothing. What’re you talking about? His pupils are completely dilated to see into the black, but it’s useless. A powerful light just in front of him cuts on. Invisible touch erupts pain in his retinas sending the impulse directly to his brain. You don’t have to be photosensitive for something like that to hurt. He shrieks, What the fuck man!

A little birdie tells me you’ve been sticking your nose in the boss’ business, Todd. The voice is detached from emotion. The thought of impending torture means nothing heavier than trying to decide the right flavor of ice cream after a meal to him. You do something so bad for so long it doesn’t seem so horrible anymore. It’s like something inside of him died after the first time, and it only got easier from there.

I haven’t done anything, he tries uselessly.

Is that so?

It’s the truth. Todd’s voice expresses his desperation as much as the lie.

The detached voice shows emotion in this next sound. Sadistic laughter, the laughter of a mad scientist in his laboratory. Truth? What a funny notion. If you haven’t discovered anything, then why did you speak with HAVOC? Footsteps move closer to the light, but it’s so blinding Meeks can’t see beyond it. The darkness is so thick it’s almost tangible. It’s like the man is wrapping it around himself like a blanket to keep him hidden. Unnerved doesn’t come close to describing the effect it has on Meeks.

You’ve got no proof I talked to anyone. Todd sounds so confident, but it’s quickly taken away. The click of a small electronic device being activated makes him feel screwed before he hears his own voice, Hey, it’s me. I’ve got something interesting to tell you.

A feminine voice responds, It’s daylight Todd. I couldn’t meet you if I wanted to.

Then wait for the sun to go down. You’ll want to hear this.

The tape stops. You really think I would accuse someone of talking to HAVOC if I didn’t know for certain? He even goes so far as to make that ‘tsk’ noise a couple times.

Todd curses under his breath. How’d you get that? He wasn’t aware that the Brutes knew about his cell phone, let alone bugged it.

What did you want to tell her?

Why should I tell you? The metallic click of a round being chambered is enough of a response. Killing me isn’t going to get you anything.

The click wasn’t that of a traditional gun, but the bolt of a dart gun. No, but if I shoot you with this poison I’ll have plenty of time to get it from you. Something tells me I won’t need to do much with this in your system. It wasn’t that long ago this building was used for a gruesome murder. Only fitting he does something similar.

Now Todd looks worried. What is it?

In the calm voice of a telephone operator that’s worked for the company for ten years and learned to be completely devoid of all sentiment on the phone, he explains. One of Draven’s boys cooked it up. It’s a synthetic poison designed to kill a Garou in five minutes. At first your skin will be prickling like needles are poking you all over. After the first minute your veins will feel like molten lava is slowly flowing through your body. Three minutes, your breathing will be so out of control you’ll swear your lungs are gonna explode. In the fourth minute you’ll convulse so hard your spine will break. Once you pass the first thirty seconds of spasms not even the antidote will be able to save you. Once the convulsions have stopped, your brain will have heated up to the point where it’s nothing more than liquid. There will be enough of you left to feel it leak out your ears and nose before you die.

Death is one thing, this is something else all together. You’re going to kill me one way or another. Why should I talk? Accepting his death gives him a little courage.

Because, you talking means the difference between the poison or a bullet to the heart. Your choice.

Drop dead. Courage and bravado was the last thing he needed.

It can’t be seen, but the smile is wide. I was hoping you’d say that. I want to see how this stuff works. There’s nothing like a good field test to see true results. Before Todd can even think to retract to his last comment the sound of air being split sends a dart into his neck. Immediately the dart injects the poison straight into the blood stream.

Within moments Todd feels needles pricking all over his skin, but it’s not the light prick he thought it would be. It’s as if someone’s taking a needle to every pore on his skin at one time. Digging the point all the way in, then wiggling it around until the needle breaks. His screams echo through the plastic covered walls of the space.

That’s one minute Todd. I can give you the antidote and save you this torture.

Amidst the screams he manages to get a, Fuck you, out there. At least that’s what a little imagination makes it sound like.

A shot of Everclear not only burns your throat, but up the nostrils and down into the stomach. Imagine a burn ten times that flowing through the bloodstream, getting into every organ in the body and casting it into invisible flames. It’s any wonder there isn’t a smell of smoke from all the pain, but there’s plenty of screams.

Feel that Todd? He laughs at the other man’s pain. It works really well doesn’t it?

Chiropractors make a living realigning the spine, cracking and setting it. Patients may not think they have gentle hands when they’re the ones being worked on, but it is compared to this. As if there’s a million of those doctors laying hands on Todd’s spine, bending, cracking, and molding each vertebra in a different position at the same time. This is the very early stages of the spasms.

He doesn’t wait for Todd to plead for the antidote, he just shoots him with it. The moment the dart enters his flesh it releases the cold liquid. Almost immediately the spasms stop their progression. The feeling is like ice being poured into his body in a way that only the gods could accomplish. The antidote kills the poison just as fast as it started. Instead of being on fire he’s now frozen solid. He can’t move, but after a few minutes it passes. Todd can breathe again. He gets a few deep breathes in before he violently coughs. The neutralized poison is thrown up from his body. It tastes worse than hydrogen peroxide must.

When he gets his voice back, You asshole! What the hell did you do that for? is what he yells. The lingering pain of the poison laces his entire body, something he’s not likely to forget. If he lives.

I thought a taste might change your mind about dying that way.

Todd can’t believe the cruelty of his action. You call that a taste? Goddamn, I was already there. It wasn’t long off! He screams in damn near hysteria.

I could always do it again. He pulls back the slide on the air gun, loading another shot. I can do it again and again until you break. I’ve got plenty of both to make this last hours. The lie rolls easily off his tongue.

His entire body aches from the experience. No one in their right mind would want to go through that twice. No, please.

What did you want to tell the vampire? The emotionless voice asks again.

He’s reluctant. With the memory of that pain so fresh he can still taste it, he cooperates. Draven’s scientists are working on a new drug. It’s still in the works, but they’re testing it on our people again. I thought HAVOC could put a stop to it. Meeks coughs more. Apparently not all of the poison came up yet.

And? he asks, wanting more than what he’s been given.

It’s designed to make the user faster and stronger. There’s also something about taking away the subjects fear. I didn’t get the finer details about that part. All I know is that most of the test subjects are having an opposite reaction.

What do you mean? Now the voice shows intrigue.

They become afraid of everything. Most of them are under suicide watch because they’re that afraid.

Why not just kill them? Why keep them alive to live through that kind of fear? He seems strangely sympathetic for someone who can torture a person without a second thought. Talk about a conflict of interests.

The drug doesn’t last forever. After a few hours it dissipates, and the subject can be used again. Some of the first subjects are having long term side effects though.

And you took this to HAVOC to make it stop?

Yes. I had a friend that was a test subject. He was the first one to kill himself because of the intense fear it caused him.

Where did this come from? The lack of emotion in his voice is replaced by intrigue.

I already told you. One of Draven’s scientists got the idea from watching tapes on the Blue Wolf. In every video that showed our people shooting him he never seemed to notice it was happening. There’s no doubt our people were using silver, but it didn’t effect him. Enough blood samples were collected from the scenes to test a theory. The Blue Wolf wasn’t just a berserker, he was a subject of evolution.

This intrigues him more, In what sense?

He was immune to silver. This is nothing new to him.

The voice turns away from the individual and speaks to himself, So, Idle Awakening is almost complete.

How’d you know what it’s called?

Is that all you wanted to tell the vampire? He’s not one to be easily distracted. Not unless it’s the right person trying. He knows Meeks would need to give up the location of the Den to get the testing stopped.

He hesitates, and before he can speak he sees the dart gun come into the light. Do you know anything about the disappearing clan members?

Meeks is caught off guard with the question. No.

Then what else did you want to tell the vampire? The location of the Den perhaps?

No, I didn’t get that far, but I found out something about Draven’s newest player. Something no one else even gave thought to.

And what’s that?

Decan Morris isn’t who he claims to be.

ONE

With everything that’s happened to Decan Morris in the last few years he never imagined he’d be here. He’s killed countless people, betrayed his organization in favor of the Brutes, fallen in love with a deadly beauty and taken out the most notorious section HAVOC could muster. All this and where is he now? In a formal hearing in front of Draven, Isabel and the Board of Trustees for the clan.

Before Decan’s operation to take out Section Eight, Draven made some serious accusations about his loyalties to the clan. He had the clan investigator look into the matter for proof of Decan’s treachery. Megan was so outraged by this that she started her own investigation, but she wasn’t looking for the truth. She was looking for his innocence. It’s times like this that make Decan really appreciate Megan’s attention to detail, no matter how anal retentive she can be about it.

Watching her walk back and forth before the Board in her red pinstripe black pant suit, he doesn’t even hear her