Out of the Darkness: Gods and Monsters: Out of the Darkness, #2

By Kaden Gardner

Starting mere months after the jaw-dropping conclusion of Out of the Darkness: Operation Lazarus. Trent Grayson leads his newly minted International Supernatural Defense Division (ISDD) against the ever-changing cycle of threats appearing in the shadows across the globe. But when their current target launches a literal giant invasion in Norway, the ISDD is taken on a journey around the world where they must face both Gods and Monsters. Whatever happens next, one thing is for certain......... The world is about to change.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kaden Gardner
• Release date: Nov 22, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215389850

Book preview

Chapter 1: Prologue

Colorado Springs, 1899

The last thing he’d said before he’d gone crashing through the portal was that he loved her. Megan stood outside the now collapsed cave with her arms folded and her auburn hair flowing with the wind. She hadn’t expected to fall for him, but she did. She gritted her teeth together as the Native American man known as Wyatt Walker bandaged the injured paw of a massive black wolf behind her. They were all exhausted and covered in dirt. They’d also just won the fight of their lives. The cost was high. Higher than it should have been.

We beat Vlad. Lilith’s gone. Moria is in the wind with Ana. What do we do now? he asked.

The witch didn’t answer. She could only stare at the smoldering corpses that littered the ground just outside of the cave. She exhaled slowly. The smell of burning and rotten flesh was almost nauseating, but she was used to it at this point.

That was when he showed up. The man in the suit. The Horseman of War himself. Willy’s hands were clasped together at his waist.

We won... he said solemnly.

Megan just eyed him. She wasn’t sure whether or not she was angry or sad. She didn’t know whether to scream or cry. All she knew was that her heart was broken.

I could have summoned him back. But Vlad... He-.

You did what was necessary. The Horseman that had given himself the name Willy replied.

What if he’s alive in there? she asked.

Willy took a deep breath. I’ll find him. I’ll bring him back. But I must warn you, time works differently in Purgatory. Hours there can be days here. You’ve lived a long life, Megan. How long are you willing to wait for him to come home?

Megan was as sure of this as she had been anything in her life. That question was the easiest one she’d ever answered.

I’ll do whatever it takes. She replied.

So just like that, Megan waited. She didn’t know if the man she loved was alive or dead. She didn’t know if the Horseman had ever found him. Eventually, days turned into weeks that turned into years. There were conflicts, yes. But she never gave up hope. At least, that’s what she told herself. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure if she knew how to move on. Before she knew it, over a hundred and thirty years had passed. Now she was sitting in her office at the Vatican. The world had changed, and she knew it wouldn’t be long before she was thrust back into the fray.  

Chapter 2: The Definition of Family

What is family? According to the old webster-dictionaries, it is defined as a societal group consisting of parents and their children or a group of people who share a common ancestor. But, from personal experience, I can tell you that isn’t always the case. Growing up, I had no family except for the all-seeing, all-powerful overlords in the government. But that’s a story for another time. I’m not here to share my story. Everyone’s got relatives, and everyone’s got family, and yes, the webster-dictionaries are correct about the literal meaning, but to some, a family can be who you make it. It’s the people who you choose to love and vice-versa. To some, anyone can be family.

With that being said, family bonds are easily broken in this world. I’m still piecing bits of the story together in this old base.  At this point in the story, around four months have passed since what the United States Government and media called the Grozny incident. Now, we start in the busiest city on the planet. The world is already beginning to change.

It’d taken Takeshi maybe twenty-seven seconds to break into the Morales Bioware office. It’s not like there was any security defending the place, just a padlock on the door of the now-abandoned building. Takeshi stood quietly among the heaps of papers and trash on the floor. His eyes scanned the graffiti-covered and decrypt walls around him. The word liar was spelled out in big orange letters across the door to the boss's office. 

Takeshi walked into the office. He took a deep breath as his eyes scanned the woodchips that used to be Hector Morales's desk. He gritted his teeth. There had to be something there, some way to figure out what happened to the Temple. Some way to track down his sister. He knew she’d come here and been at Grozny at some point. He pulled the half-burnt scroll from his dark leather jacket and studied it. He scoffed at Nigel’s poor handwriting. He’d logged Ayesha’s mission here, detailing a hit on the man who’d killed one of their own. But after that, there was nothing but burnt paper. He’d been trying to retrace the steps for days. He stepped towards the broken window and eyed the illuminated full moon overhead.

Where are you, sis? he sighed.

That was when he heard the door at the end of the hallway fly open. Takeshi was quick to duck behind the office doorway. He could see the flashlight beams as they penetrated the darkness just outside of the room. From what he could tell, two men were patrolling the building in civilian clothing. Takeshi quietly pulled the katana from his belt.

Why are we even here? one of the men asked as they stepped into the room, both completely missing the man watching them from the corner.

Takeshi took a mental note of the bright red gas can in one of the men’s hands.

Boss doesn’t want any loose ends! the other man responded.

Which boss are you talking about? Our actual boss or the one with the bolts? the man holding the gas can asked.

The one with the bolts.

Ya know, it’s a real shame we’re being loaned out like this. I thought Mr. Bolts had those red-armored pricks to do his dirty work.

The man without the gas can rolled his eyes as he pointed his flashlight at Morales’s old desk.  They ain't local, he said.

Aint local? We ain’t local! the gas man barked.

Raiden also has his other resources working on finding those other two light bender temples.

Takeshi’s eyes widened at the mention of Raiden. The man’s heart instantly accelerated as his blood began to boil with rage. He stepped from the shadows. His katana suddenly ignited with a bright yellow light. The two men didn’t have time to react as Takeshi’s burning blade lopped the one holding the gas can’s head off. The can went tumbling to the floor while the other man threw both his hands up.

Holy shit! the man squealed as Takeshi’s blade stopped inches from his neck.

Give me one reason why I shouldn’t slit your throat, Takeshi growled.

Who are you? the man asked.

You’re not in a position to ask questions! Now, where’s Raiden?

I don’t know! He gives us orders through text!

Phone! Takeshi commanded with an outstretched hand.

The man’s hands shook violently as he pulled a cell phone from his pocket and tossed it toward Takeshi.

Thank you! Takeshi said. Now, where is Ayesha?

Who? the man’s voice trembled.

She was here a few months ago looking for someone!

This office was abandoned after Grozny! I’m just here to liquidate paperwork!

I’m sure, growled Takeshi as he shoved the phone into his pocket.

Takeshi pulled two golden cubes from his jacket and tossed them behind himself without looking. A golden wall of energy sprang up from them to the ceiling. Takeshi kept his sword raised as he backed through the wall. Then, the wall came down just like that, and Takeshi was gone. The man could all but feel the warm urine running down his leg. He let out a deep exhale. That was when it hit him. He needed to warn his people about this renegade light bender. He slid down by his deceased friend and reached for the corpse. His breath shuddered as he fumbled a cellphone from the man’s pocket, dialed a number, and pressed it to his ear.

Boss! Some light bender hit us during our patrol! He’s taken my cell and-an ear-shattering bang cut off his cowardly voice as the exploding phone peppered the wall with his brains.

Chapter 3: In the Shadows

What kind of monsters wait for us in the shadows? The question bounced around in Trent’s mind as he stood quietly on a rooftop, looking down at the newly-built Big Ben memorial. It was the middle of the afternoon, and the sun was beaming down onto the back of his red collared shirt, and he could feel the sweat building around his neck.

Agent Stone, are you in position? asked Trent as he watched the memorial park through a set of binoculars.

Grace stood in the center of the park looking at a marble statue of Big Ben. Her emerald eyes fixated on the plaque underneath the statue which memorialized the most significant terrorist attack on western soil since September 11th, 2001.

I am, she said calmly.

Do you have eyes on? asked Trent.

Trent, she just got there! Chad’s voice sounded off over the com-link.

Trent cracked a smile from the rooftop as he lowered his binoculars.

I know. Grace, stop staring at the statue. We have a job to do.

Sorry, it’s just weird being here. Three years ago, this was one of the oldest structures in the city. Now it’s just....

Worse will happen if we don’t do our job, Trent said softly.

With that, Grace turned and faced the crowded park. It wasn’t a large park by any stretch, just the statue in the center itself surrounded by a line of small shrubs that formed a square-shaped barrier around it. Then at each corner of the square sat a large concrete slab with the names of all seven-hundred-ninety-seven victims of the anarchist attack. The park around the memorial consisted of a grass field with concrete walkways from various areas that met each monument's corner.  Her eyes went up towards Trent’s silhouette placed on the Portcullis House's blackened roof, then down at the white van parked on the curb in front of the same building. She pulled the cell phone from her blue jeans.

Grace took a deep breath as she stared at the blank screen. Her heart fluttered in her chest.

Try not to look so nervous, Trent’s voice sounded off.

That’s kinda hard considering who we’re dealing with.

She won’t do anything in public. She’s not an idiot, stated Chad.

She also told me to come alone, Grace said.

You are alone. We’re just watching from afar. Trent responded.

That was when Grace caught the woman in the giant white sun hat approaching her. Her eyes narrowed as the woman approached with a wide smirk on her paper white face. Moria wasn’t tall. In fact, she was a few inches shorter than Grace was. She calmly marched up to Grace.

Hello, Grace. The woman sneered.

If  Grace’s heart was fluttering before, it was beating like a battle drum now. She seethed with hatred at the very sight of this woman.

Ms. Teppes, Grace spoke through gritted teeth.

A smile formed on Moria’s face. Grace looked at the woman closely. Her skin was just as white as Grace’s. It almost blended in with the white silk dress the woman was wearing.

You can call me Aunt Moria if you wish,

We aren’t family. You had my family killed, Grace stated aggressively.

Moria rolled her eyes behind her dark sunglasses.

And you killed my husband, and although he wasn’t my son's father, he meant a great deal to me. Now, does your boss want to hear my offer or not?

Grace didn’t respond, she wanted to scream at Moria and tell her where she could shove her offer, but she felt the words get caught in her throat. It went silent between them. Moria could read the hatred on Grace’s face. She could tell by looking at the teenager that she was doing her best to hold herself back. Moria grinned widely.

I want a truce in exchange for Father Raphael and the Lazarus canisters that Victor gifted my coven.

Did she just say Lazarus canisters? Trent’s voice sounded over coms.

Yes, I did, Moria sneered.

Trent could see Moria looking straight at him through his binoculars. He had figured that she’d gotten a hold of a couple. But he’d never expected her to be so forthcoming.  He raised a finger to his earpiece.

Grace, hear her out.

Grace couldn’t help but notice the smug look on Moria’s face. She wanted to strike the woman with every fiber of her being.

I want my Coven to be left alone. To be able to run its business as I see fit.

Human trafficking for blood? I don’t think so! Trent’s voice said into the earpiece.

You know I can hear you, Mr. Grayson? Moria asked.

He knows, Grace growled.

Well, then he should know that you have forty-eight hours to consider my offer, or I’ll suddenly only have one Lazarus canister to trade, and you’ll have to explain to the City of London why half of its citizens died on your watch.

What’s to stop me from blowing your head off right now? asked Grace.

Did you not hear what I just said? I don’t come back, and this city will have another monument to build.

Grace could feel her chest pulsating as her free fist clenched up. She was ready to rip this woman’s throat out.

Grace, stand down, Trent said.

Moria smiled widely, I’ll be in touch, she said, gesturing to the cellphone in Grace’s hand. She then turned and walked off, disappearing into the crowd in a split second.

Please tell me we’re gonna have someone on her ass! Grace growled.

All the way up it, Chad’s voice responded over the radio.

Chapter 4: Big Brother

H oly shit, I guess Big Brother is watching! Chad joked as he stared at the giant wall of monitors.

Each one had a different street corner, road, tunnel, or alleyway. If it was in the city of London, there was a camera on it. They stood in the British Intelligence headquarters building. Chad turned to the firey-haired woman standing next to him, who just turned and sighed.

We have surveillance in every crevice of this city. I don’t understand how she slipped away so easily, she groaned.

You know, the strictest parents create the sneakiest children, Chad said as he gestured towards the surveillance wall.

Rachel rolled her eyes. First of all, she’s not from around here. Secondly, we only monitor everyone because we have to. The Government can’t afford another intelligence failure.

Chad crossed his arms and eyed the monitors.

How’d she slip us so easily? he asked himself.

She’s been slipping the CIA for around sixty years, Trent said as he entered the room with a thick vanilla file in one hand with a black and white picture of the same blonde woman that Grace had spoken with earlier. Trent walked up to the two and took a long breath. Grace was close behind him. 

I’ve got incidents in Vietnam, Cuba, Russia, all over Europe, and that’s just the CIA files, said Trent.

So she’s a ghost? asked Chad.

More like the leader of an entire coven of vampires, said Grace.

Trent turned to her, You know anything we don’t?

I know that she doesn’t make deals. Which means something’s changed. Grace sighed.

You think with Victor dead, she’s changed her mind about being part of his little cabal? asked Rachel.  

It’s possible, answered Grace.

Or she’s scared of something, suggested Trent.

Of us? asked Chad.

You and I both read the records on the Shadow Wars. If I was Moria, I’d be terrified, Trent said as he turned to the screens.

It doesn’t matter why. If she’s offering a deal for the canisters and Grace’s friend, we should take it. Rachel said as her eyes shifted toward Trent.

And let her keep trafficking innocent people? asked Trent.

No one ever said we had to keep the deal. But right now, she does have a leg up on us with those canisters. Chad added.

Trent looked at Chad, then back at Rachel, and rolled his eyes. You know, ever since you two got back together, you’ve been a huge pain in my ass.

Chapter 5: The Witch

It was half-past noon at the Vatican. The bright yellow sun was beaming through the office window as a younger-looking woman sat silently at her desk. The office itself was on the smaller side, and almost every wall was covered with old bookshelves adorned with even older-looking books. The desk was empty, other than an ancient golden-colored circular-shaped medallion with a dark red crystal in its center. There were rune-like symbols around the edges of the medallion. The woman examined it carefully.

Megan usually kept the medallion in the bottom drawer of her desk. But today was different. The medallion hadn’t activated itself in over a hundred years. Megan took a deep breath and closed her grey eyes as she brushed her auburn hair behind her ear. She could feel the gentle warm energy the medallion gave off. Now, if only she could track the energy that had activated it earlier, she’d be in good shape. But her focus was interrupted by a knock on the door. She opened her eyes to the aging Priest standing at the doorframe with a leather bible in his left hand.

Can I help you, Father Bernard?

Megan, have you found out why it’s come on?

Megan shrugged, No idea. I’ve been trying to backtrack the spell all day. Someone’s been toying with my warding.

Have you tried our friend?

The Horseman? Not yet. There are still a few things I wanna try.

The Priest let out a soft chuckle. You know, he could help?

Megan sighed again, I know. But,

Father Bernard could see the solemn feeling that had seemingly consumed the woman the instant. Megan pressed her lips. 

The last time a Horseman came near this thing, someone died.

That wasn’t the Horseman’s fault, said Bernard.

I know. I just don’t like reminders.

Father Bernard looked at the leather Bible in his hands and pressed his lips.

Megan, I have other news. Moria just met with the CIA in London. We think she’s trying to make a deal.

Moria hasn’t been active since the Shadow Wars, Megan said with a puzzled look on her face.

Why do you think I’m here? Something is happening. The higher-ups in the Vatican think there are dark forces at play.

Megan let out a small laugh, There are always dark forces at play. I wouldn't be worried about Moria. She’s not like her father. She only wants her people to survive. She isn’t stupid enough to pick a fight with humanity.

We have intelligence that she loaned out the Ripper to Victor Marks in exchange for some chemical weapons.

Megan furrowed her brow, Why?

The Priest shrugged, I don’t know. But I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the medallion activated when it did. We need all the help we can get.

Megan just nodded, I’ll see what I can do.

Chapter 6: Bad Dreams

Ophelia rubbed her temples as she stared at the empty whiskey bottle on the table. It was six in the morning, and her head was throbbing from the night before. She sat alone at her kitchen table with all the lights in her apartment turned off. The sunlight was trying its best to get through the closed blinds on the other side of the table. Her mind tried hard to wonder, but it hurt to think. All she could really do was sit there and wait for the throbbing to stop. That was when she heard a creak in the floorboard behind her. Ophelia only scoffed.

What do you want? she asked without looking.

Trent’s wondering where you are. The Horseman responded.

Ophelia rubbed her dirty brunet hair. She groaned as she turned to the stern-faced man standing in the darkened area of the room.

Trent knows where I am. Try again!

The Horseman smirked, When are you going to return to work?

Soon as I sort this out! Ophelia said as she pointed at her head.

The Horseman only nodded.

Still having bad dreams?

Ophelia slouched forward in her chair a bit.

You mean repressed memories? Or was it wiped memories? I honestly don’t remember, she sighed.

You’re the one who asked me to do it. Now that I’ve done it twice. I can’t give them back. I wish I could. But even if I did... the Horseman started.

I’d probably make you retake them.

The Horseman just nodded, You have to realize, Miss Wilde, you did it with the best intentions.

And what we’re those exactly? I don’t remember! You haven’t been exactly forthcoming! she sneered.

That’s a question you wouldn’t understand if I answered it myself.

You know, I can’t even remember who I was before the marines? I thought I knew, but... I guess I never really thought about it.

The Horseman took a deep breath. You’re special, Ophelia. Like I told you. If I tell you everything, you’ll only go looking for answers, and a whole lot of people are going to die if you do. You need to be patient.

Is that what you’re little sense is telling you?

That little sense has saved this planet at least four times! The Horseman sighed. And the last time I ignored it, one-third of the planet's population was wiped out. Like I said, be patient! The Horseman said before vanishing.

Ophelia now sat in the room by herself. She felt a sudden buzzing in her pocket. She slowly reached into it and pulled out her cell phone. Then tossed it onto the table when she saw the caller ID that read Agent Grayson.

Not answering that right now! she said to herself.

The phone stopped buzzing after a few seconds as she stared at it. Then it shifted back to the Home Screen, which read seventeen missed calls and six texts. Ophelia’s heart jumped into her throat as her eyes went back up to the empty bottle. The room still smelled like whiskey and whatever dirty dishes she’d let rot in the sink for the past week. She could hear the flies buzzing behind her.

Well, the liquor store isn’t open right now, and I’m out of whiskey. I wonder if Trent has any rum hidden around here somewhere? she wondered out loud.

Her phone buzzed with a text alert.

Pick up your phone... And Don’t touch the rum!

Ophelia looked up into the corner of the room where the small white security camera rested and stuck up her middle finger at it. Her phone buzzed again.

That was rude!

Chapter 7: The Phone

Takeshi mumbled to himself as he pulled the Semtex charge from the non-metaphorical burner phone. It’d taken him over an hour to disarm the small charge and even longer to get it out without blowing his thumbs off and then putting it back together. He’d been working for so long that he hadn’t noticed the sun had come up in the motel room window behind him. He sighed as he leaned back in the wooden chair. Takeshi finally felt like he could actually breathe. He looked around. The first thought that came to mind was that his motel room was very bland. Everything was either white or brown. It really looked like a basic stereotypical hotel or motel room.

Shoulda gone Gideon, he said to himself as his eyes met the queen-sized bed in the center of the room.

He knew he needed a break. He needed to slow down. But he needed to make sure his sister was okay. At the same time, he’d be no use to her if he was exhausted. His eyelids had begun to grow heavy. He sighed as he stood up and jumped onto the vanilla white bedspread. He grabbed the remote from the nightstand and flipped on the television. It automatically went straight to a news broadcast. The headline read something about the new owner of Gideon Global Corp. organizing the grand opening of a new museum in Oslo. It wasn’t anything really controversial. More like white noise so Takeshi could sleep. The man hated the quiet. He leaned back and shut his eyes. His katana rested on the bed next to him.

His mind went back to his falling out with the former Grandmaster Nigel. He remembered the day being wet and humid and him standing angrily in the center of the courtyard while Nigel scolded him about executing one of Raiden’s Tengu that the two had captured the night before.

We’re peacekeepers, not murderers, not executioners! Nigel had bellowed at him.

They would have done the same thing to us! Takeshi had argued.

Takeshi could remember the last time he’d seen Ayesha. His younger sister was only a teenager back then, still learning under Nigel himself. She stood behind the Grandmaster with tears in her eyes. Takeshi could remember storming away. He left the temple that night and never looked back.

A noise brought Takeshi back to the present. His eyes shot open, and he found himself staring down the barrel of a shotgun. His hand instinctively shot up and shoved the barrel skyward. A loud crack made Takeshi’s ears ring like bells before small bits of the ceiling fluttered down. He used his other hand to snatch his katana and sliced the midsection of his attacker. Crimson speckled the white blood sheet as the body fell. Takeshi shot to his feet. It was only then that he’d gotten a look at his attacker. The man was dressed in a raggedy t-shirt and dirty blue jeans. He almost looked homeless with his crusted salt and pepper beard. Takeshi raised a brow at the man before his eyes went to the now open motel room door, where another man stormed through with a suppressed pistol that was raised right at Takeshi.

Had Takeshi been a millisecond slower, he would have gotten a bullet in his chest, but the years upon years of vigorous training had paid off well. Takeshi somehow managed to sidestep whilst simultaneously throwing his katana. Bullets flew by him. The man in the doorway took the blade to the center of his chest. He fell forward onto the floor.

How the hell? asked Takeshi.

His eyes met the digital alarm clock on the nightstand next to him. It was almost noon. He’d just been attacked in broad daylight. How had they tracked him down? That was when he heard the buzzing from behind himself. The cellphone he’d taken off the guy at Morales BioWare rang with a blocked number. Takeshi cautiously picked it up and placed it to his ear.

You now owe me three men! the deep voice on other end said.

Who is this? demanded Takeshi.

Why did you kill my men?

They were in my way. I assume this is the boss.

The voice chuckled, I’m not Raiden if that’s what you’re thinking!

Then you’re of no use to me. Takeshi sneered as he hung up the phone.

He pressed his lips as he examined the room. This place was a mess. He looked down at the cell phone in his hand. He had figured there was probably some tracking software installed in it. But he hadn’t expected to be attacked at a motel in Florida. So whoever was now sending men his way had reach all over the country at the very least, which meant it could only be one of two people. He gritted his teeth together. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy. 

Chapter 8: Awakening

Megan trembled as she put the medallion around her neck. The room was silent, aside from her breathing. She stood at her desk, looking down at an old book that was bound with a black leathery spine. In it was a detailed picture of the very medallion around her neck. She ran her fingers across the worn-out page and exhaled. Everything was almost ready.

Her eyes moved towards the doorway as a couple of nuns wandered by it. She calmly walked towards the door and out into the hallway. The sunlight beamed through the windows and hit the wall next to her. The hall was wide, and its walls were made from sand-colored stone and supported by wooden pillars. The monastery was old but well kept. The vanilla tile floors were so clean that the light from the lanterns hanging overhead reflected off of them. She could see Father Benard waiting for her at the end of the hall with his hands collapsed together and a stern look on his face.

Father, Megan spoke.

Megan, I see you’ve finally left your quarters.

After hours of research! I reached out to our friend. We should hear from him shortly.

Father Bernard nodded, and the two turned a corner and continued walking.

And why do you wear the medallion again?

I am its protector. There’s no telling who can sense its awakening.

Father Benard nodded as he stroked his chin.

Indeed.

That was when the building shook violently. They could hear a loud crack that sounded as if it were from several rooms away, followed by gunfire.

What was that? asked Father Benard.

Megan furrowed her brow as she stared down the hallway.

We need to get to the bunker. Alert the Swiss guard. I’ll meet you down there! Megan said as she took off back towards her office.

She quickly rounded the corner and almost came to a complete stop when she did so. Several priests were unloading assault rifles at the end of the hallway. Her eyes widened, then she vanished into thin air. The next thing she knew, she was standing at her desk and looking down at the book. She very quickly closed it and picked it up. Then she vanished again.

Teleporting was second nature for Megan. It was the earliest skill she’d learned. To her, teleporting across the planet was like walking through a doorway in a blink. She found herself in the bunker, where Father Benard was speed walking down the steps into it.

The bunker was approximately twenty feet under the monastery. It was made from enough steel and concrete to survive five nuclear blasts in a row. Or at least that is what Megan had been told. The walls and floor of the bunker were made from concrete and looked a bit damp to Megan. The room was humid. Five members of the Swiss guard followed Father Bernard down the steps. They wore green uniforms with black plate carriers while wielding SIG 552 assault rifles. They spread out. Two stood at the base of the stairs while the other three knelt in front of them. All rifles were aimed up the stairs at a large vault door.

Father Bernard watched as Megan tossed the book onto the concrete floor with a smack. She took a deep breath before making a slow, waving motion with her hand. The leathery book suddenly combusted in a small fireball that turned it quickly into cinder and ash.

Megan? What did you just do?

"The instructions on how to use this thing are vast. Only