Post by Teddy Battle on Jan 26, 2016 18:02:12 GMT -5
1:00 AM
“Congratulations Tom and Patty on 10 years. Please enjoy a delicious dinner on me!
-Signed, Aunt Regina.”
Chef Tom Mulzoff read aloud the lovely card his Aunt gave him at the restaurant tonight. He was parked in the driveway of his condo complex in Spring Hill, Florida and looked at the gift certificate his Aunt gave him.
“$20 for Olive Garden. Thank Aunt Reg.” He muttered to himself before he exited the ‘94 Dodge Spirit. He headed up the gravel path leading to the doorway and shoved the card in his pocket. He was certain that he was going to use it for lunch this week, and probably wouldn’t even mention the card to his wife.
He quietly opened the screen door which invariably screeched with excitement every time he arrived at home waking his daughter and wife. Still he tried to be as discreet as possible as he did every night. He was shocked to see the kitchen light on at this hour. Patty must have been in a rush to get to bed and left in on. Or better yet, she left dinner for him on the counter and he wouldn’t have to settle for a cream cheese and jelly sandwich as he did most nights.
He was dismayed to see no dinner plate waiting for him on the kitchen counter when he got in there. But what he did see made him worry. There was a bloody hand print on the counter… right where dinner was supposed to be. He followed the trail to the floor and saw it leading to the staircase.
Horror ran through his body as he saw drips of blood trail through the hallway and a drop landing on each of the steps as he made his way up the wooden façade. He saw the trail lead into his bedroom and when he got there he couldn’t believe his eyes…
3:15 AM That Same Night
Detective Jessica Class stood in the room staring down at the dead bodies. She wore a pant suit that covered the tattoos that adorned her whole body. By night she was a Detective for the Miami PD but other nights she played the role of Goth Singer in the band “Rip My Heart Out.” She had become known to take up the cases that were more… unusual in nature.
In doing so she had also built up a relationship with Jordan Wolfram from St. Michaels Church who also had an affinity for cases such as this. Oddity cases, as they were known in the PD were becoming more of a normal occurrence, creating irony in the name as of late. Wolfram and Class had been seeing more of each other than either of them would have liked.
“We have to turn in the body.” Class said without hesitation.
“There’s still so much we can learn…” Wolfram interrupted.
They have had this conversation before, and it always turned out the same way. Wolfram and his team would end up taking the body in and the body would inexplicable disappear. Class wanted to ensure that the proper steps were taken, but knew that when it came out that two perfectly circular holes were found at the nape of the neck that the Opus Dei branch of the Catholic Church would get involved, and assert their dominance over the situation. She had found it easier just to invite Wolfram to the initial party and skip the middle man. As intolerable that the man was, the Bishop Ponderosa was even worse.
“You know there are steps to be made when things like this happen. You can’t take the evidence everytime.” Class started
“It was a stregoy. It’s always those damn stregoy. Trust me, if you ever come face to face with them it will be the end of you so it’s best for us to take this body and see if we can turn him.” Wolfram argued. He had an obligation to find any stregoy possibility and try to turn the victim into a Sanguin.
Perhaps we should back up a minute.
Many people know what a stregoy is, but not by the name. Vampire was the common term for these undead visages, but as it has been associated with witch craft and sorcery the church has adopted other names. Stregoy have the same characteristics as you would know a vampire to have. Allergic to sunlight, the holy cross burns their skin, and they feed off the blood of humans and animals alike. But unlike the Vampires that you know a stake to the heart is not the only way to kill them. They bleed just like man, though their blood is black as night. A mortal blow for them is similar as it would be to man… however the blow must be made with a weapon forged of pure silver.
A Sanguin was a stregoy, but who has tasted the holy blood of Christ our Savior. They were saved demons. They could travel in the light, but were weakened by it. They lived off the blood of Christ, rather than the blood of humans or animals believing in the right for all to live. They fought the evils of the night with their super human strength and the power of God protecting them.
It was far-fetched. Many people denied their existence, and this was the way they preferred it. They didn’t want their identities known or even their order known. They fought for God and kept the human race safe from indescribable evils that the human wind wouldn’t be able to comprehend.
Stregoys generally kept to themselves, feeding off the blood of vermin and barnyard animals, commonly keeping away from the general population however lately there was an increase in Oddity cases and both Jordan and Class were concerned. For once they were on the same page, and for once she easily conceded.
“If you believe that you can help stop this madness then I’m all for it.” She finished as a team of cloaked individuals hauled up the dead bodies of Tom Mulzoff and his daughter and headed out of the room.
“And remember, that if you do find Patty Mulzoff that she’s unarmed yet incredibly dangerous.” Wolfram finished as he left the room leaving Class with her team of paranormal investigators to complete their search.
Black People<White People
“This world is full of the wrong type of people. It’s easy to separate them into black and white but it’s truly so much more than that. It’s a group of wrong people and right people.
The ‘N’ word is thrown around way too much, and I admit that I have been known to use it, but it’s not my fault, it’s my upbringing, and it’s the fault of people that force me to call them that. Black people are generally good people. Generally.
But it’s not my fault that the cops target them, because they are the ones that generate most of the crime. Parents and people alike cringe at the fact that the police are profiling African Americans simply because they committed a crime.
What next, we allow Muslims into this country to blow up our buildings and we allow a Gay man to be president?”
Jordan Wolfram sips from a Golden Chalice, and his face cringes at the taste.
“The blood of God is not to be taken lightly. It is the holiest of sacraments echoing the last supper when he broke bread which he transubstantiated into his body with the 12 disciples and shared his wine which he transfigured into his blood.
I do not do anything lightly, and I certainly do not step into this match with DeMarcus Jordan lightly. Yes, sir, I know your name. I call you DeSean or Shaquan to get your ire up. Because like all Nig… I mean, all… ugh. What word should I use? Ok, how about this. At the behest of my new boss Seth Lerch I will from now on call DeMarcus Joran a Joker instead of a… well… instead of the “N” Word.
So that Joker lives a life separate from the lord. He lives a life where he feels necessary to assert his will and his dominance on those better than he. He does not know his place in the world, and I will show him. This week at Fifteen I will put him in his place. I will break him into a million tiny little pieces and I will feed him to the dogs that he keeps trapped in his basement to fight.
He is a bad person.
I have seen the light.
When I’m done with you, DeMarcus… you will be walking towards the light.
The deep crimson hue of Hell as the devil welcomes you forth.”
“Congratulations Tom and Patty on 10 years. Please enjoy a delicious dinner on me!
-Signed, Aunt Regina.”
Chef Tom Mulzoff read aloud the lovely card his Aunt gave him at the restaurant tonight. He was parked in the driveway of his condo complex in Spring Hill, Florida and looked at the gift certificate his Aunt gave him.
“$20 for Olive Garden. Thank Aunt Reg.” He muttered to himself before he exited the ‘94 Dodge Spirit. He headed up the gravel path leading to the doorway and shoved the card in his pocket. He was certain that he was going to use it for lunch this week, and probably wouldn’t even mention the card to his wife.
He quietly opened the screen door which invariably screeched with excitement every time he arrived at home waking his daughter and wife. Still he tried to be as discreet as possible as he did every night. He was shocked to see the kitchen light on at this hour. Patty must have been in a rush to get to bed and left in on. Or better yet, she left dinner for him on the counter and he wouldn’t have to settle for a cream cheese and jelly sandwich as he did most nights.
He was dismayed to see no dinner plate waiting for him on the kitchen counter when he got in there. But what he did see made him worry. There was a bloody hand print on the counter… right where dinner was supposed to be. He followed the trail to the floor and saw it leading to the staircase.
Horror ran through his body as he saw drips of blood trail through the hallway and a drop landing on each of the steps as he made his way up the wooden façade. He saw the trail lead into his bedroom and when he got there he couldn’t believe his eyes…
3:15 AM That Same Night
Detective Jessica Class stood in the room staring down at the dead bodies. She wore a pant suit that covered the tattoos that adorned her whole body. By night she was a Detective for the Miami PD but other nights she played the role of Goth Singer in the band “Rip My Heart Out.” She had become known to take up the cases that were more… unusual in nature.
In doing so she had also built up a relationship with Jordan Wolfram from St. Michaels Church who also had an affinity for cases such as this. Oddity cases, as they were known in the PD were becoming more of a normal occurrence, creating irony in the name as of late. Wolfram and Class had been seeing more of each other than either of them would have liked.
“We have to turn in the body.” Class said without hesitation.
“There’s still so much we can learn…” Wolfram interrupted.
They have had this conversation before, and it always turned out the same way. Wolfram and his team would end up taking the body in and the body would inexplicable disappear. Class wanted to ensure that the proper steps were taken, but knew that when it came out that two perfectly circular holes were found at the nape of the neck that the Opus Dei branch of the Catholic Church would get involved, and assert their dominance over the situation. She had found it easier just to invite Wolfram to the initial party and skip the middle man. As intolerable that the man was, the Bishop Ponderosa was even worse.
“You know there are steps to be made when things like this happen. You can’t take the evidence everytime.” Class started
“It was a stregoy. It’s always those damn stregoy. Trust me, if you ever come face to face with them it will be the end of you so it’s best for us to take this body and see if we can turn him.” Wolfram argued. He had an obligation to find any stregoy possibility and try to turn the victim into a Sanguin.
Perhaps we should back up a minute.
Many people know what a stregoy is, but not by the name. Vampire was the common term for these undead visages, but as it has been associated with witch craft and sorcery the church has adopted other names. Stregoy have the same characteristics as you would know a vampire to have. Allergic to sunlight, the holy cross burns their skin, and they feed off the blood of humans and animals alike. But unlike the Vampires that you know a stake to the heart is not the only way to kill them. They bleed just like man, though their blood is black as night. A mortal blow for them is similar as it would be to man… however the blow must be made with a weapon forged of pure silver.
A Sanguin was a stregoy, but who has tasted the holy blood of Christ our Savior. They were saved demons. They could travel in the light, but were weakened by it. They lived off the blood of Christ, rather than the blood of humans or animals believing in the right for all to live. They fought the evils of the night with their super human strength and the power of God protecting them.
It was far-fetched. Many people denied their existence, and this was the way they preferred it. They didn’t want their identities known or even their order known. They fought for God and kept the human race safe from indescribable evils that the human wind wouldn’t be able to comprehend.
Stregoys generally kept to themselves, feeding off the blood of vermin and barnyard animals, commonly keeping away from the general population however lately there was an increase in Oddity cases and both Jordan and Class were concerned. For once they were on the same page, and for once she easily conceded.
“If you believe that you can help stop this madness then I’m all for it.” She finished as a team of cloaked individuals hauled up the dead bodies of Tom Mulzoff and his daughter and headed out of the room.
“And remember, that if you do find Patty Mulzoff that she’s unarmed yet incredibly dangerous.” Wolfram finished as he left the room leaving Class with her team of paranormal investigators to complete their search.
Black People<White People
“This world is full of the wrong type of people. It’s easy to separate them into black and white but it’s truly so much more than that. It’s a group of wrong people and right people.
The ‘N’ word is thrown around way too much, and I admit that I have been known to use it, but it’s not my fault, it’s my upbringing, and it’s the fault of people that force me to call them that. Black people are generally good people. Generally.
But it’s not my fault that the cops target them, because they are the ones that generate most of the crime. Parents and people alike cringe at the fact that the police are profiling African Americans simply because they committed a crime.
What next, we allow Muslims into this country to blow up our buildings and we allow a Gay man to be president?”
Jordan Wolfram sips from a Golden Chalice, and his face cringes at the taste.
“The blood of God is not to be taken lightly. It is the holiest of sacraments echoing the last supper when he broke bread which he transubstantiated into his body with the 12 disciples and shared his wine which he transfigured into his blood.
I do not do anything lightly, and I certainly do not step into this match with DeMarcus Jordan lightly. Yes, sir, I know your name. I call you DeSean or Shaquan to get your ire up. Because like all Nig… I mean, all… ugh. What word should I use? Ok, how about this. At the behest of my new boss Seth Lerch I will from now on call DeMarcus Joran a Joker instead of a… well… instead of the “N” Word.
So that Joker lives a life separate from the lord. He lives a life where he feels necessary to assert his will and his dominance on those better than he. He does not know his place in the world, and I will show him. This week at Fifteen I will put him in his place. I will break him into a million tiny little pieces and I will feed him to the dogs that he keeps trapped in his basement to fight.
He is a bad person.
I have seen the light.
When I’m done with you, DeMarcus… you will be walking towards the light.
The deep crimson hue of Hell as the devil welcomes you forth.”
