Ménage à Trois of Madness

[Pope Boniface]

There were certain things in life that shouldn’t be taken for granted. The wind in your face, the freedom to go where ever you wanted, whenever you wanted, for whatever reason you wanted. Not many people had that luxury; everyone was so caught up in the rat race called life. Getting up, executing their morning ritual, going to work, coming home, and going to bed just to repeat the cycle over again. That was no way to live; granted, when he was in the USMC that type of repetitive daily cycle was drilled into him so much that he, even in his freedom, still adhered to certain conditioned practices. However, for the most part, he existed outside the cycle; on the fringes of what is considered the norm. 

That’s where he was now. It was a long day of riding Pope had decided to pull off the road and make camp for the night. According to the road signs he saw, he was in northern Nebraska; the Samuel R McKelvie national forest. Pope had served as a Force Recon Marine for over ten years; he was able to survive day to day off the land with no problem, at least for this night. He was tired; he didn’t feel like trying to find a motel to stay in. It wasn’t that he couldn’t afford one. He could, just, sometimes it was nice to camp out under the big sky. 

“If only it was a new moon.” He said to himself as he lay back on the blanket he set out, staring up through the threes that had shed most of their leaves. He could see the full moon hanging in the dark sky, obscuring most of the lovely stars that he knew were out there. “Oh well.” He said with a sign and listened to the pop and hiss of the logs blazing just to his right. He had constructed a fire with a wall on the backside to reflect the heat in his direction and channel the smoke up into the air. His bike, a red and black Harley Davidson heritage softail was a few paces away and next to him, his 1911 lay near his makeshift pillow made up of his spare clothing. Dinner for the night was some cured sausage, crackers, and trail mix; the good kind with M&Ms in it. It wasn’t much, but it filled him up for the evening. He’d have to find a store tomorrow and stock up on more supplies. Maybe stay in a motel for a couple days to recharge his batteries. 

“Maybe…” he said to himself again. He felt like he needed to be on the move, he couldn’t tell why, just he had the compulsion not to be tied down to any one place for too long. Pope enjoyed the silence for a good long while before he started to get tired. As he was starting to remove his boots, he heard a long howl in the distance. A wolf and where there is one, there is more. “Better put some more wood on the fire.” He thought to himself and reached over to put a thicker, longer log on the fire. That should keep him warm and keep critters away from dining on him. Just to be safe, he took his 1911, chambered a round, and cocked the hammer. Then putting the safety on and set it under his pillow with his ESEE 6 knife. Then with a big yawn he settled down to get some sleep.

[Amelia Shaw]

Ménage à Trois of Madness

--------------------------------------
Judy Garland said it well. Never be a second rate version of somebody else.

Amy picked up her favourite knife, silver blade and inlaid filigree handle it looked delicate, pattern on the handle worn soft. Hefting it gently she tucked it out of sight. Strapping her machete, lovingly nicknamed Rat Bastard to her leg and, checking her Glock was within easy reach in the shoulder holster, spare magazines zipped into her jacket pockets, she slammed closed the lid of her car and turned to her companion.

"Well, looks like we get to see if these little babies work as well as I hope they do." she grinned. She was talking about the special bullets she'd had made by Presley, an exploding hollowpoint filled with holy water, garlic and colloidal silver. It should be enough to make anything in the supernatural world at least take notice she thought, still grinning. And if that didn't work she had her usual silver bullets on stand-by.

The howl was heard through the quiet darkness and the smile dropped off Amy's face. Pulling a beanie over her blonde hair she turned and started walking into the woods that lined the road. Her booted feet moved almost silently over the ground, years of training taking over as she checked to make sure Presley was safely at her side. Her small flashlight beam was only just enough to illuminate the ground immediately in front of them but she wouldn't take the chance that a brighter beam would make them targets.

She knew the woods were sandwiched between two roads, the one she'd parked on the one less used. She hoped to catch the Were before it hit the main road and picked up a weary traveler. Setting a quick pace she only hoped Presley could keep up.

thank you noa?! of caution!

[Presley Winchester]

The series of clicks echoed off of the evening air as the dark haired girl pushed silver bullet after silver bullet into the clip of her trusted gun. Truth be told, Presley would have rather been at home working on her latest order request; a tricky little invention that another hunter had requested that was giving her untold grief as it wasn't coming together as quickly as she had thought it would. It wasn't that she couldn't' hold her own in hunting, she very well cold, after all she was from a family of hunters. She and her siblings had been trained well from both parents, but it was never PJ's first love as she was more at home in her workshop building things. But, even she couldn't' deny that this was the absolutely perfect opportunity to test out her latest invention, a grouping of specialized bullets that she had made for the hunter standing beside her and she just couldn't pass that up at all. The evening was brisk, with a chilly wind coming down from the north, her dark hair was pulled into a thick side-swept braid, that she had discovered that most people were calling a "Katniss" style braid. Whatever, it did the job and helped keep her thick hair from her face as she was working and -as in this case- on a hunt.

The clip was shoved into place with a sharp click, her pale fingers working quickly through fingerless gloves as she flicked on the safety of her sidearm before slipping it into a holster at her back, a habit she had gained from her dad. The next to come was her trusty silver knife, a gift for her sixteenth birthday. It was one thing that she was next to never seen without and as she checked the blade for sharpness, it was easily slipped into her boot for convenance. The feel of the handle brushing against her cafe was surprisingly comforting to the inventor and she couldn't help but smile to herself as she stashed a few extra batteries into her pocket, zipping it up along with a few other odds and ends that might come in handy should they find themselves trekking for awhile before grabbing onto a flashlight and flicking the switch to check that it worked.

"Don't worry, they'll work" Presley smiled as her quiet tone came through as she double checked that she had everything. "I've yet to have an unsatisfied costumer" The smallest bit of pride peeked into Presley's voice as she let a tiny smile come onto her lips while she spoke. It was then that she was quite certain she heard the very clear howl of a wolf. It caused her eyebrows to lift and a glance to be turned toward her companion before she flicked the flashlight on. Presley easily kept pace with Amy, the woods were dark and the Winchester wasn't going to just flick her flashlight beam around to see, that would only mean that others could see it as well.

The dark haired woman made sure to watch where she stepped, not wanting to crack or twig or anything like that. The comforting feel of her knife handle rubbing against her cafe continued to remind her of it's presence. The woods were chilly, but that was just a given as PJ tugged her coat in closer around herself as she continued to fall into step at Amy's side, all the while her eyes searching for clues. After a moment Presley paused, frowning as she looked out between the trees and put a hand on Amy's upper arm to stop her a moment. "You see that?" She questioned in a soft tone, just loud enough for her fellow hunter to hear her as she pointed to a speck of light between the trees a short distance away. "That a fire?" Presley gave an inward groan, the last thing they needed were campers right now.

[Pope Boniface]

Pope slept soundly; no sooner than he had closed his eyes, he was out like a light. During his time serving in the Marines, he learned that when you needed to get some rack, you did it, and you fell asleep quickly because you never knew how long you’d get or when the next opportunity to bunk down would come. The tough times were when you only got 15 or 20 minutes of sleep over a three day period. Which doesn’t sound bad at first, but then considering you’re hefting around 110 pound kit, in the heat. Pope loved serving, and looked back fondly at his time, but thinking about those days didn’t make it miss it too much. 

Falling asleep fast didn’t necessarily mean that you slept heavily; even in his slumber he was fairly alert. So when a second howl came, louder than the first he stirred. Instinct took over and in a fluid motion he grabbed his gun and pointed it at the darkness in the direction he thought the howl came from. The hazy fog of sleep still clung to him and for a moment he thought he dreamt it. That was until he caught a pair glowing eyes in the darkness. Quickly, Pope got to his feet, making himself bigger and more imposing; he shouted, “Vamos! Vete!” into the darkness and fired a .45 shot into a tree trunk near the eyes. It was then he noticed something peculiar. The eyes weren’t too much lower than his own; definitely taller than a wolf would be.

“What the hell are you?” He asked himself. Was this some demon, monster sized wolf, if that was the case, his gun would just piss it off. Those things didn’t exist, this was the real world; not one of his grandfather’s old stories. While keeping his eyes focused on his target he reached down and grabbed a log out of the fire by its unburned end and threw it into the darkness. The burning log hit a trunk just above the eyes and rained down sparks and embers on top of his query. There was a slightly panicked growl that turned into one of annoyance. 

Pope used the opportunity to step back behind the fire putting it between him and whatever it was that had been eyeing him. The log didn’t give my much but the way of light, it just served to distract it. “Go on! Get!” He repeated, this time in English before firing another pair of rounds at a tree in its direction. This was one of those instances where he did miss the Corps; or at least, his rifle.

[Amelia Shaw]

Ménage à Trois of Madness

--------------------------------------
Judy Garland said it well. Never be a second rate version of somebody else.

Amy stopped at  once when Presley touched her arm, looking where the young woman pointed. A sigh escaped her as she spotted the tell tale glow of a fire. The last thing she needed was trying to kill a werewolf under the watchful gaze of a bystander who didn't know such things existed but sometimes things didn't go to plan and she'd learned to adjust accordingly. She just hoped that whoever was camping tonight would listen and do as she instructed without falling into the hysteria common when being confronted with what would soon enough be a dead body.

She nodded to Presley to indicate she understood the other woman's misgivings, but just shrugged in response. "It's not ideal." she agreed, but there was little that could be done. The howl came from the same direction as that of the unknowing camper and Amy suspected that the werewolf was on the hunt for human heart, the traveler being in the wrong place at the right time. A quick head-tilt to let Presley know that Amy was carrying on regardless and she moved off again. If they didn't get the Were tonight it was free to kill more innocent people and that was something that Amy couldn't allow.

The sound of shouting carried through the woods, the sound startled but not yet that of someone in pain and she picked up the pace, pulling her Glock from the holster and flicking off the safety. Keeping the weapon aimed at the floor she sped towards the yell, stopping to assess the situation once she could see through the trees to the makeshift camp.

thank you noa?! of caution!

[Presley Winchester]

There were so many many scenarios that were bouncing around in Presley's head. One thing her dad had always taught them, civilians in a hunting situation always spelled trouble. Now, not only did they have to watch out for the were, they had to look after a civvy who had no idea what they just walked into. If they were lucky it was probably just one poor bastard instead of a family or something like that. One she could deal with, and hopefully with both her and Amy they could keep whoever it was from getting themselves killed. Like her fellow hunter had said, it wasn't' ideal, it was so so far from ideal that it wasn't' even in the same zip code as ideal. Presley swallowed down her impatience and frustration at the situation in a bitter pill as she reached behind her back to pull her gun from it's holster, a subtle flick of her thumb switched the safety off as she kept her finger from the trigger.

Presley kept up with Amy once again as they moved toward the fire and that's when all hell seemed to break loose. A loud howl was heard that was way to close for comfort. Which was shortly followed by a shot and the unmistakeable pop of a gunshot, all of which followed in a series. "Son of a bitch" PJ cursed while they two hurried toward the site of the commotion, the glow of the firelight becoming bigger and bigger the closer they got. From what she could tell, there was just one person by the fire, which caused her to relax just a slight bit. At least knowing that it wasn't a family out for a very late season camping trip was enough to take a bit of weight from her shoulders at lead. The male was tall, really tall, like as tall as her dad tall and that was tall.

But, her attention didn't stay on him for long as she felt the family grip of her gun in her hand, lowering the barrel a bit so that she wasn't pointing it as anyone in general as they edged toward the outer circle of the fire. Her dark eyes looked around, quickly turning in the direction of the howl. There were only two reasons why a were would be out, at least what Presley could think of. One, to build a pack, or to feed, the man was still alive so that was a plus on both accounts. The young hunter waited, hesitating as she assessed the scene before slowly stepping into the circle of light, her gun raised toward the clear hulking humanoid figure of the were on the other side of the fire as the creature clearly was annoyed.

Presley aimed -or as best she could with only the light of a camp fire and the moon- her finger squeezed off a round, only meeting the target in the shoulder as she quickly heard when the were gave off another howl only this one laced with pain. "Dammit" She whispered to herself, knowing that once a creature knew they were a threat it would probably do one of two things, take off or attack and neither one seemed particularly appealing.

[Pope Boniface]

“Shit!” He thought to himself as he heard movement behind him. He didn’t dare take his eyes off whatever was in front of him but he couldn’t ignore the potential threat behind him either. With a quick shuffling step he put himself between the fire and his bike and crouched down to shelter himself. If they were other wolves they’d have to come around and at him from the side bringing them closer to the fire, and he was fairly sure they wouldn’t want to do that. Assuming they were wolves and not whatever this was.

It was only another second before he saw a young woman enter his field of vision just off to his right. He could see the gleam of the firelight off something metallic, he assumed it was a gun, and he took it as a good sign that she wasn’t there to do him harm or rob him because her eyes were trained in the direction of the creature. He wasn’t about to ask her what was going on, he just took some comfort in knowing that he wasn’t alone out here; then without a word she took a shot at it too. That was all the encouragement Pope needed. He emptied his magazine at the thing.

Whatever it was didn’t give off a good vibe. It wasn’t like he was shooting blindly into the dark. This thing was here to do them harm, Pope didn’t know how he knew that, he just did. So when the girl shot, he did too, taking his time to put rounds on target until the slide locked back. With practiced motion he dumped the mag and hit the release letting the slide ride forward, stripping a round off the fresh magazine. Whatever it was got hurt and yelped in pain. And he heard the girl whisper “Damnit” as if that was a bad thing. I guess for humane reasons it was. You didn’t want an animal to suffer.

Pope kept his gun up and stole a glance at the girl. “What’s going on here? Who are you? I mean thanks, but what the hell is happening? What is that thing?” He hadn’t the foggiest clue about what was happening at the moment.

[Amelia Shaw]

Ménage à Trois of Madness

--------------------------------------
Judy Garland said it well. Never be a second rate version of somebody else.

Amy quickly assessed the situation as Pres stepped out and aimed at the werewolf. It was a good shot considering the angle they were coming from, catching the creature in the shoulder. It yowled in pain as the silver bullet from Presley's gun went through its shoulder. The camper, and wasn't Amy glad it was a single male, aimed his own gun and fired until the dry click that signalled an empty magazine. It appeared the man hadn't seen Amy as he addressed Pres while reloading his weapon. She didn't want to startle him but something needed to be done about the now rabid Were eyeing the three of them, blood streaming down its chest as it stalked towards the group head swinging between them. Stepping forward she aimed a cold smile at the creature, but spoke to Pres.

"Lets see how well these work." She'd taken the time to get a better angle and her shot hit it high in the chest. She watched critically as the bullet struck home and the Were let out an anguished howl as it clawed at its own chest, the liquid silver contained in the hollow point spreading through its system. She didn't want to waste the limited supply of bullets Pres had managed to make until she was guaranteed more so she called to the slim brunette, "Can you finish it? Before it decides it's still hungry."

Keeping her own gun aimed at the creature just in case, she swung her head around to look at the one who was nearly dinner. "And you, don't waste your bullets. Just stay where you are and don't make any sudden movements, for gods sake!"

thank you noa?! of caution!