A Beginning in Mourning: The Rake(IC)

[Mosasauria]

OOC thread

A small town in a rural, forested area of New York state, Tuesday, 9:47 PM
A creature moved silently and quickly through the forest. It soon came upon a house. One that it has visited before.
Easily and quietly opening a window from the outside, the creature sneaked inside. It headed for the bedroom.
It stood still, watching the sleeping body. The sleeping human was a woman, known as Annette Bourdin to the other humans around her.
It had visited her in the past, like it has with so many of the residents of this town. However, she was special. She was the only one still alive who has seen it. And it cannot allow that to continue.
Had this woman lived anywhere else, at a different time, it would have let her live. But in anticipation of the coming storm, it had no choice.
It gently sat on the end of her bed, looking back at her. It suddenly released a sharp, high-pitched shriek to wake her.
It watched as she slowly kneaded her eyelids, then opened her eyes to see it.
Those wide eyes, full of dread and shock. Always the same. No matter who it visited. No matter when it visited them.
She stammered incomprehensibly, trying to put words together in an attempt to address the familiar creature before her. It.
Finally, she managed to get a sentence out.
"Wh-why are you here a-again?" she asked, slightly trembling as she spoke.
It decided to answer. After all, this was the last time she would ever see it.
"For a reason that you cannot and would not understand. The other times I've watched you, it has been just for the sake of watching you. No other reason. But tonight, that changes," it said in a high, raspy, and yet, perfect English.
She appeared to be stunned that it could even speak. Her lips moved, and words came out, but to it, the rest of her body appeared frozen.
"You've... You've watched me before? Even before I saw you that one night?" she asked.
"Sorry, Annette. But I did not come tonight to chat. The time for watching is over. The time for talking never existed. But know this: You have met your end at the hands of the Rake."
As it spoke, it stood up and edged closer to her, towering over her. When it finished speaking, it made a quick swipe with its claws to her neck.
Her blood splattered across the room.
Now covered in her blood, its mission fulfilled for the moment, it began to dismember her body with its claws. This was a habit it had forged long ago. So long that even it had forgotten when it first did so.
By the time it had finished pulling apart her remains and exiting through the window, it had begun to rain, and lightning pierced the skies. It moved quickly to a location near the center of the forest, not too far from the town, and not too far from the lake.
It shrieked even louder than it did before, at a frequency that humans could hardly hear.
"To all of those like I, I call. Rise! We must band together and unite if we are to stand up to the forces that gather against us! Gather at this town, if you wish to survive this threat humanity now poses to our freedom and existence.

[Sentinel XV]

Deep within the bowels of the Devil's Throat, in a remote section of forest where no trail lead and no animals could be found, an ancient evil was awakening. The call of the Rake pierced the silence of its watery grave, the placidly calm surface beginning to ripple as the horror that stood chained at its depths began to stir. It had been asleep for so long, such a very long time. And it hungered.. hungered for the lifeblood that sustained both it and his prey -- nay, his victims. It had been centuries since a mortal had gazed upon the horrendous glory of The Watcher in the Well, far too long for the Watcher's liking. But he detested that name, for he was no Watcher. He was a Stalker, he was Ephigoth'kletr, The One of Endless Form. But sleep was bereft from him as quickly as those cursed Shamans had sent it forth, and in a sudden rush of fury the Eldritch creature became whole once more. It had been centuries since its last human contact, when the explorers dared to enter into his realm. He was weak then, so very tired, and was only able to enthrall them ever so slightly. But now, now that had changed and he was whole once more: free and whole, free to wreak havoc unto the world as he pleased.

The water began to shift and the cavern hung heavy with artifice as Ephigoth'kletr rose from his chains and ascended as if held by the hand of God himself. But Ephigoth'kletr knew full and well that there was no God that could withstand his fury now, and he could feel the lack of magics in the world that those ancient Shamans possessed, oh, those cursed dogs! How dare they defile his glory, his power, with their trickery and deceit. But secretly, Ephigoth'kletr admired those qualities in mankind and they were no different. They had played Ephigoth'kletr's game and they had beaten him. So them, he could forgive. But the others, no.. no, they would not -- could not -- be forgiven. Water dripped from the horror as he latched onto the carved rock face of the Devil's Throat, crawling out with inhuman speed and in seconds the spawn of Hell itself had left the maw of his creator.. Ephigoth'kletr was free of the Devil's Throat once again, free to roam the lands like times long past.

Brisk wind met him along with the silence of the forsaken forest that he was in. He looked up into the sky and saw the thunderheads and roiling masses of black clouds -- bruised and swollen -- with the sliver of a radiant moon barely showing its face from behind the darkness. Soon, it would storm here as well, but that was of no portent to the Watcher. First, he must sate his desires and then he would answer the Rake's call. Moving forward on all fours, Ephigoth'kletr's monstrous natural form dripped with water remnant from the Throat.

A scent filled the air and graced Ephigoth'kletr's presence, and it was a scent that filled the creature with a primal bloodlust that he had almost forgotten: the smell of human fear. Fear, that glorious, wondrous, twisted, delicious, tantalizing aroma. The amalgamation of all human suffering, all their insecurities and phobias and regrets and memories, all combined into one godly scent. And it was near, ever so near that Ephigoth'kletr could taste it in the air itself, hanging heavy and lingering despite the strong wind. Ephigoth'kletr moved towards the scent at a great speed, tearing through the unkempt underbrush at a breakneck pace. Soon, he was upon the smell and he realized the scene that was unfolding before him. Jumping, he braced himself with all four limbs against the trunk of a tree, moving like some demented spider up the trunk to get a better view. Lightning flashed upon the scene, illuminating it even though Ephigoth'kletr did not need the light in order to see perfectly.

Before him, a large man in a white wifebeater and stained blue jeans hauled a woman in a ripped and torn dress by her beautiful blond hair. Ephigoth'kletr savored every detail as he watched what was happening: oh, how glorious her fear and his rage were, and how glorious their deaths would be at his hands!

"EUSTACE," screamed the woman to the man, "PLEASE, PLEASE I'M SORRY."

"BITCH I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP," roared the man -- who Ephigoth'kletr presumed was Eustace --, punctuating his sentence with a downright brutal backhand across the woman's face, "I DIDN'T MARRY NO FUCKIN' CHEATER. BITCH, NOBODY'S EVER GONNA FIND YOU WHERE YOU'RE GOIN'."

"EUSTACE," screamed the woman again between sobs, "EUSTACE PLEASE, N-NO, PLEASE DON'T DO THIS TO ME."

At this, the man hauled the woman up to his eye-level by the hair and planted a vicious undercut into her stomach, driving the wind from her lungs and silencing her. She continued to sob halfheartedly as she struggled to regain her breath, her legs trailing limply behind her as Eustace dragged her farther into the woods: towards Devil's Throat.

Returning to the ground, Ephigoth'kletr decided that it was time to end their pathetic lives. Crawling forwards, he darkened the small clearing that they had emerged into, a thick haze of abyssal fog hanging at the edges of sight. Moving swiftly he cut them off, utilizing the ethereal blackness to emerge, unseen, before them. Ephigoth'kletr rose in a macabre manner, eliciting a gasp of pure terror from the woman and a shout of alarm from the man.

The man took a step back out of fear, pure fear that radiated off of both of them and only served to heighten Ephigoth'kletr's maddening lust for their blood. An inhuman sound escaped the creature's lips, a rasping noise almost like a cough.. Ephigoth'kletr was laughing. Eustace tried to run, but he couldn't. He was held in thrall by the sheer terror of the beast before him.

"My children," said Ephigoth'kletr in a sinisterly snake-like voice, one of horrid antiquity and evil, "today you are to become part of something much greater than yourselves. Rejoice, for the end shall come swiftly. Pity those that will come after you."

Not a further word was spoken as Ephigoth'kletr's clawed hands shot forth, ripping into Eustace and gouging chunks of flesh from his chest. The gaping, disfigured maw of the Watcher tore into his face as Ephigoth'kletr was consumed by his raging bloodlust. Letting the carcass drop, he turned now to the woman: she was paralyzed in fear, oozing terror. This made the kill all the more enjoyable for Ephigoth'kletr. He caressed her face with his blood-soaked claws and ran his lipless, gaping mouth over her forehead as his slit nostrils soaked up her fear. His hot breath formed a cloud of steam in the chilling night and coalesced around her head. And then he struck, decapitating her by ripping her head cleanly off of the neck, blood spewing over his entirety as the arteries and veins empties themselves into the night air. He stood there for a few moments and simply relished the ungodly shower, and then turned and began to devour the bodies. 10 minutes later only deformed, disfigured corpses remained: not even enough to identify them once they were discovered by the police. After he had fed, and was sated, Ephigoth'kletr was on the move once more.

He was moving quickly, barreling through the forest on all fours, moving like some demented animal, a sideshow horror, and he sped towards where the Rake had summoned them. Not that he was adherent to the Rake, or beholden to him, it was just that after countless centuries of solitude, Ephigoth'kletr was keen for blood and he knew that where the Rake went, bloodshed followed.

Within a half hour he had found the Rake, moving through the forest towards some unknown destination.

Rising up into a bipedal stance, Ephigoth'kletr looked at the creature with his eyeless face, seeing without sight.

"Has it begun?" was all that Ephigoth'kletr would say, in that inhumanly grotesque voice of his.

[Mosasauria]

It heard a large creature approaching it.
It turned around to see one that it had heard much about. The Watcher in the Well. It knew that this creature went by many different names, and it tried to decide which one with which to address.
"I'm afraid it has begun, Ephigoth'kletr. Those humans who know of us are trying to stop us."

[Sentinel XV]

A raspy, grating noise escaped Ephigoth'kletr's throat: a sigh. The creature cocked its head at the Rake, studying it for a moment. It had not changed at all, since Ephigoth'kletr's imprisonment. The Rake was a true Watcher, unlike Ephigoth'kletr. Ephigoth'kletr was a Stalker, a Hunter, a Killer of Men. The Rake was a Watcher of the highest order: almost as old as Ephigoth'kletr himself, yet very rarely letting himself be seen. Not by necessity, but by choice. And now, he had revealed himself. The Rake was finished hiding, and as such the world would suffer indeed for the insolence.

Looking towards the stormy, foliage-obscured sky above them, Ephigoth'kletr would mutter:

"Forgive them, for they know not what they do."

Then, louder, so that the Rake could hear him fully:

"Then so be it. It took their magic to chain me the first time, and I can feel the void of the arcane in the world now. It is empty, dry, as desolate as their drained corpses shall be. I pity their fates, so helpless, so fragile. And we shall break them all."

[Knoxcrest]

Thomas was knelt over the corpse of a ten-point buck he'd just recently killed, the loud crack of his rifle shot having drifted off into the night not long ago. He had his knife running over the corpse, skinning it quickly, as night was falling. He didn't like hunting at night, as it made him a bit clumsy and he'd noticed many bear traps in the area when he was just arriving at the small town he hadn't discovered the name of, just off to the west. He'd also heard stories about a strange and deadly creature roaming the area, known as "The Rake", but he didn't believe in ghost stories. In his years of hunting the rural New York countryside, he hadn't seen a single thing he couldn't identify or explain. He'd definitely seen strange things, like a bear that was at least twice the size of the largest he'd ever encountered, but that was just about the extent of it. Besides that, he was a man of common sense. No such creatures existed, and he knew it.

As he stood to turn, he heard a twig snap about twenty yards behind him. He turned, noticing a rather large buck had wandered into a clearing. Strange, considering the rifle shot should have turned most deer with the herd in the area away, scattering in all directions. He raised his rifle, but suddenly felt a strange sensation of fear and began to sweat an ice cold sweat, like he shouldn't be out in the forest. He never felt this way during a hunt, and most certainly not when he was just about to make a kill. He shook his head, inhaling deeply. By that time when he'd looked back up, the deer was gone. But the sensation remained, a strange feeling of foreboding, as though he shouldn't be there and had no business there.

"I must be falling ill...Yeah, that's it, I must've caught a cold. It was a bit chilly a few nights ago..." he muttered to himself, picking up the remains of his kill and hiking back up the hill, where his truck was parked in another clearing in the forest. He tossed it in the back, and hopped into the truck, turning it on and driving out of the forest quickly.

He made his way back to the town, reasoning that if he was ill it probably wasn't best to continue. He drove through the small community before he found a hotel, where he parked his truck and proceeded inside. He procured his room keys, but decided to head out for a walk through the night, making sure to grab a heavier coat than his usual one before he began to wander the streets, getting familiar with the little town, for he may stop again if he ever took another hunting trip through this part of the state.

[Mosasauria]

A raspy, grating noise escaped Ephigoth'kletr's throat: a sigh. The creature cocked its head at the Rake, studying it for a moment. It had not changed at all, since Ephigoth'kletr's imprisonment. The Rake was a true Watcher, unlike Ephigoth'kletr. Ephigoth'kletr was a Stalker, a Hunter, a Killer of Men. The Rake was a Watcher of the highest order: almost as old as Ephigoth'kletr himself, yet very rarely letting himself be seen. Not by necessity, but by choice. And now, he had revealed himself. The Rake was finished hiding, and as such the world would suffer indeed for the insolence.

Looking towards the stormy, foliage-obscured sky above them, Ephigoth'kletr would mutter:

"Forgive them, for they know not what they do."

Then, louder, so that the Rake could hear him fully:

"Then so be it. It took their magic to chain me the first time, and I can feel the void of the arcane in the world now. It is empty, dry, as desolate as their drained corpses shall be. I pity their fates, so helpless, so fragile. And we shall break them all."

It nodded in agreement.
Wait, that was odd. It did not usually perform such human gestures. Perhaps it has spent too much time watching them...
"Make no mistake, though," it rasped, "These are humans who have dealt with out kind before. Some have already been captured and killed by them. We will kill them, there is no doubt about it. Even though you have not done so, we must not underestimate them. I have... a plan of sorts, to draw these 'special' humans out. Then we strike."
Its throat ached. It has not spoken for an extended time like that, and as such, was not used to it. It would need to be, however. If its plans were to succeed.

[Shadyrya]

OUT I NEED OUT I NEED OUT I NEED OUT.

Still in the room. The men who watched sat in their chairs, watching. He wanted OUT. He wanted to KILL. He paced the bright room, his shadowy form writhing. It had been weeks since he had last killed. He needed to kill. Now. The big door opened. Men walked in, with their devices. These were the men who came close. No shadows were cast; the room was completely illuminated on all sides. Suddenly, a light went out. 017 leaped at one of the men who came close, devouring him, destroying him. The other men who came close ran, screaming. He appeared in front of one, embracing him, giving him a painful death. The doors closed. One man was still in the room. It pulled an L-shaped thing, pointing it at 017. If 017 could smile, he'd be grinning. He toyed with this one, getting close, then disappearing. It screamed, banging on the shiny door. "HELP ME! HELP ME, IT'S GONNA KILL ME!" It's requests were ignored. 017 closed in for the kill.

[Sentinel XV]

That same rasping, horrid, nauseating sound came from Ephigoth'kletr's broken mouth.. that same sound that had greeted the man and woman from behind serrated teeth. Ephigoth'kletr once again chuckled softly. A plan, and humans that could defeat their kind. This was humorous at best, although Ephigoth'kletr knew that the Rake was not one to joke around. No, he was completely serious, as was Ephigoth'kletr.

"A plan, you say," said Ephigoth'kletr, his chuckle dying off, "I am all ears."

If the creature could smile or howl with laughter he would be doing so. A bloodstained hand opened to reveal four mangled ears, taken from the humans he had killed earlier. All ears. Ears. Sadistic mirth from a remorseless killer. The ears fell through the gaps between Ephigoth'kletr's fingers, and soon they were lost amidst the thick undergrowth.

[Mosasauria]

That same rasping, horrid, nauseating sound came from Ephigoth'kletr's broken mouth.. that same sound that had greeted the man and woman from behind serrated teeth. Ephigoth'kletr once again chuckled softly. A plan, and humans that could defeat their kind. This was humorous at best, although Ephigoth'kletr knew that the Rake was not one to joke around. No, he was completely serious, as was Ephigoth'kletr.

"A plan, you say," said Ephigoth'kletr, his chuckle dying off, "I am all ears."

If the creature could smile or howl with laughter he would be doing so. A bloodstained hand opened to reveal four mangled ears, taken from the humans he had killed earlier. All ears. Ears. Sadistic mirth from a remorseless killer. The ears fell through the gaps between Ephigoth'kletr's fingers, and soon they were lost amidst the thick undergrowth.

It watched as the ears Ephigoth'kletr held fell into the plants, a twisted grin widening across its face.
"It seems you have already put my plan into motion.
To lure those against us out, we need to let them know we're here. But we can't be careless about it. We need to make it look as if we're unaffiliated, simply make it seem as though this town has the worst luck in the world to be ravaged by several of us at once.
We will kill in our own ways of doing so. Perhaps even stage a fight between us or any like us who also appear at this town. When these dangerous humans appear, expecting simply several like us running rampant, we shall momentarily cease all activity. Then, we strike. United."
Its throat, though now even more dry, no longer ached.
The anticipation it held for such events had long been in its mind. Ever since the first of them fell to this new group of humans.
"This would not mean the end of those humans who oppose us. This would simply show them just what they dare to disturb."

[Sentinel XV]

"That which they have disturbed shall in return seek retribution. I do not take kindly to my imprisonment, regardless of where the blame may lay," said Ephigoth'kletr, "but the time for talking has run its course, let us depart my brother and set this plan of yours into action. May the world come to fear he who watches and he who stalks."

[Mosasauria]

"Indeed. If you see any others, either send them to me, or deal with them yourself. Now, I wish you luck in your hunt."
It turned away and headed off towards a part of the forest that held a few houses slightly down the road from the town. It had not been there for quite some time, and it needed to be reacquainted with its residents.

[Shadyrya]

Taking it. Using strange devices, putting it in a big metal container. Fully illuminated. Another being. Hairy and scaly at the same time.

[Katyuscha]

In the dark, cold woods of rural New York, the the Black Rabbit walked, ever so slowly, but with a pace and disposition unlike that of any human. It moved though the woods, twitching and jumping forward, as if someone was skipping forward in a video, making him appear a few steps ahead of where he was before. The sound of dry bones echoed in the night air with every step it made, and a subtle, but loud ringing that sounded alot like white noise.

He had many names. Bogeyman, Boogeyman.. it didn't matter what he was called. It was not important.

For years he had been without the strength to sate his bloodthirsty desires. The humans of this century were loosing their superstitious fears and beliefs and no longee believed in him. This took s large toll on him. He no longer existed in the physical world, but in a separate realm. A realm in where he was cursed to watch the humans live out their happy little lives without worry, or most if all, fear. Fortunately for him, this was quickly changing. He had heard the call of the Rake and sensed the fear that came with him. Soon, he would be free... free to torment. Free to torture, murder, and maim. All he needed in order to do so, was fear, and the rake and other supernatural creatures that he senced in the area were just what he needed to bring that fear to life.

He continued moving in the same direction. Never stopping, never resting, or even acknowledging his surroundings. He just moved until he reached the outskirts of the town. He stopped and starred for a good 30 seconds before turning toward another patch of woods. He then walked forward, into the brush for another 5 minutes, until he stopoed just 30 feet away from two dark figures who stood motionless in frobt of him. It was the Rake, and the creatire known as the Watcher. He knew its real name, but neither cared nor respected it enough to call it by its true title. He simoly stopped abd stared at them, knowing they were intelligent enough to acknowledge his presence.

[G-Tech Corporation]

A tavern in the small New England town, Tuesday, 9:50 pm

Jack whistled softly, flipping a coin in his hand as the hubbub of the bar washed over his well-manicured form. His fine silk top hat, a gesture ill appreciated by the fetid creatures around him, cast a long shadow over his face. The shadow was there for the protection of the human beings, more than him. He meant to keep a low profile, as his purpose necessitated blending with mankind rather than incautiously slaughtering them all. If one of the drunks caught sight of his eyes he would have to turn this inn into a charnel house, which wouldn't exactly help his quest.

The eerie haunting melody blowing from his pursed white lips unnerved one of the men at a table near him, who paid the serving wench quickly and left precipitously. A wise move on his part; obviously he was more astute than the other cattle that roamed the sordid establishment. Jack knew he... disquieted the humans, and even several of the Others. His powers were indirectly related to how much he was observed, and as such the being did his level best to keep the beings from watching him.

It was he who watched them, his blood-red eyes hidden in his dapper outfit, claw-like talons concealed in fine gloves. Jack was here for a reason though, and thus he could not watch and wait forever.

It was her, the barmaid, that had drawn his unwholesome gaze. The Flit's purposes were his own, his motivations unscrupulous, but for only half-remembered purposes he preyed on the young and vital, the best humanity had to offer his... appetites.

Eventually the tavern was nearly empty, as the hour of closing drew near, and the buxom black-haired beauty checked out of her shift. The red-painted door of the bar opened and closed behind her in a well-oiled manner, and shortly thereafter Jack followed her, innocuously at first. The insidious being, the Thirster, began far behind her, but in an instant he was ahead of the wench. Night was his element; when he could not be seen, his powers waxed prodigiously. He had once covered a hundred miles in a few minutes in the vicinity of Dover, his queer cloven footprints a puzzlement caught in the snow that had unnerved the superstitious and prompted a witch-hunt of mammoth proportions.

It was his hour.

Silk-clad hands unveiled a small fog lantern and hurried into the covered lane from the side, as if merely crossing the maid's path by chance. Jack pretended to start upon seeing her, all part of his little game. He spoke, groomed English tones and sympathetic emanations swiftly easing the doubts the lady had at his sudden appearance. His words didn't imprint in the woman's mind. If she survived she wouldn't remember what he said; indeed Jack didn't speak, but merely gave the impression he did, and she followed him off the path into the woods with scarcely a thought.

He carefully removed and folded his right glove fastidiously, steely claws glinting in the moonlight. As the black-haired woman sighted his curious hands her mind began to function again. A sense of leaden dread stole over her, a primeval desire for life warring with the trust she had for this stranger, and the light of the moon glinted cruelly as Jack struck. It was not for naught that he had been once called the Ripper. Her throat split in twain, gleaming streams of crimson arterial spray glistening under the cold uncaring moon and splattering Jack. The dark eyes stared into his suddenly coal-like eyes, the Devil's own creation drinking in the life of his victim in their burning scarlet depths, then glazed over unfeelingly as her body dropped as if made of stone.

It lay on the ground for brief seconds, then burst into stubborn red-black flames, the deep crimson tinged by an unwholesome light of evil. Jack breathed deeply of the death upon which he subsided, and the flames coursed to his throat, ripping upward rapidly from her corpse in the middle of the dark forest, lighting the twisted leering trees in an unholy glow. With each breath her body diminished, her life-force now bound to his, and at long last nothing remained of the once beautiful creature. Jack was now clean of all signs of violence, his gloves mended of their tears from other encounters, and his dapper suit absent the crimson remnants of the young woman's life.

Then the Rake's call reached him, its primeval tones reaching him on a visceral level. The Night-Killer turned his head towards the clearing in which the creature waited, and in an instant he was there.

His burning-coal eyes picked out the moving form of the Rake as it walked towards him, and he began to whistle softly in the only blackness. As it spotted him he ceased his melancholic tune.

Jack spoke, sibilant tones hissing into the air, his real voice revealed at the secret midnight hour.

So then old..... friend..... why do you disturb the slumber of all? Surely you do not see the mud-spawn as a threat to us.

[Shadyrya]

They made it too easy. The men opened the shiny door. These must be the ones they call, 'Class D', the cannon fodder, for they hadn't illuminated the surrounding area adequately. A light in the corner had winked out. 017 was surprised by how often this happened nowadays. Way back when, he got three kills in two years. Now he usually got that in two months. 017 writhed violently in anticipation. Then it eliminated one of the idiots. One of them ran toward the light, trying to see what was wrong. 017 took him into his shadowy embrace next. One of them took one of those L-shaped things out and objects flew out of it at 017. Being a shadow, they passed through him. He was the next cow to die. The rest abandoned post, running like all hell was hounding after them. Feeling content, 017 suddenly heard a call. The Rake,some part of him said. It was a summons, a request-no, a demand of attendance. So 017 set off toward the meeting place The Rake had detailed in his message.

Upon arrival, he saw The Rake. It was a thing of terrible beauty, with long, razor-sharp claws. Blood covered it's deep, tan, rugged skin. He drifted toward the creature, preparing to do this leader's bidding.

[Soviet Ruk-Tsan]

The Slender Man appeared from nothing to the rake. He noticed others in his company. He cared little. "I appologise for the wait, it's a long way from Halstberg." He said this in a dark tone, his usual 'voice'. "Why have you called us here? You've interupted my games." The last bit is said almost angrily. The Slender Man's faceless watch gave no acctual read on his emotions. It was the perfect poker... face.

[G-Tech Corporation]

As the grotesque figure of the Rake passed him it did not speak, but rather Jack felt its intent in his bones, a gasping thirst that called for more death, more evisceration, more carnage. Tingling it's intent was a flavor of emotion the Ripper hadn't felt in one of the Others since..... he knew not whence. Eons perhaps.

It was rage, usurped insulted rage. Something, someone, had insulted the Rake's sense of dignity, superiority, the ability to pass unmolested in the night and terrify the lesser beings. An Other perhaps? But no, that was to be expected; there was always a bigger fish, a darker abomination under the stars that thirsted for blood. It was the way of the world. No, this was not visceral anger directed at a greater force; it was offended rage against the humans, those cattle upon which all preyed.

Jacks coal-eyes opened fractionally at this realization. There was an honest threat against the Others of this area from the humans, and that was the reason for the Rake's immaterial entreaty. The Soul-Drinker was no slow coach, and in moments his arcane mind, riddled with the knowledge of millennia of preying on humanity, had divined the Rake's plan.

He spoke into the dark in Oxford tones, mimicking the human he least despised. So then, the game is afoot.

And then in moments Jack was gone, a haunting whistling tone his only residue staining the night forest.

[Mosasauria]

The Slender Man appeared from nothing to the rake. He noticed others in his company. He cared little. "I appologise for the wait, it's a long way from Halstberg." He said this in a dark tone, his usual 'voice'. "Why have you called us here? You've interupted my games." The last bit is said almost angrily. The Slender Man's faceless watch gave no acctual read on his emotions. It was the perfect poker... face.

It turned to the Slender Man after passing by the one called Jack.
"It is... The humans. The ones older and more dangerous than the ones you play with."

[Gibet]

A man in the off-duty uniform of a Corporal sat dozzing-off in the front-seat of a Grey-Hound bus bearing down the highway. He was a tall, thin man in his early twenties. As his side, taking up the other seat, was his green, military-issue duffle bag. His dark hair was buzzed neatly to about a quarter of an inch above his skull, and his face, although pale, was clean shavened. He had been away from his home for nearly two years, and was tired to beat. Outside, it was dark and a light drizzle had begun to fall.

Un-known to this returning hero, another man sat towards the back of this midnight bus...A man who would likewise share his destiny in the coming days. This man was likewise tall, and exceptionally thin--but almost sickly so. His skin was very-pale, as if he were sick, but it gave off an oddly healthy-glow. He was dressed in a black suit and brown trenchcoat. Unlike most of the people on this bus, this man was not alseep--as he often times spent all hours of the night up and about. He was a man who had seen much in his time and in his travels....From the farthest-reaches of Eastern-Europe--Budapest, Istanbul--to Warsaw, Berlin, Paris....During his time on this earth, he had seen and been witness to many atrocities.....War, pillaging, murder, genocide. He had escaped from France just prior to it's occupation in 1940.

Now, he was traversing the continental United States, and had onyl recently visited another small, New England town. He some-how felt drawn to these rural villages, where time seemed to happen more slowly. In fact, this one in particular and brought up soemthing interesting and in need of finding out.....

[Tarnen]

Frank grabbed his coffee, having been on the road for the last 4 hours, was starting to get to him. It was 12:30 at night, and he needed a bed and a shower. Although he would rather be outdoors than inside, he wanted to at least not smell like a dead carcass. He turned on the interior lights, and he grab the folded up map, he briefly looked at it while maintaining his eyes on the road. He was about to pass a small town about 10 minutes away, for a second he thought of stopping for the night, but he decided that he would press on. His truck sputtered, the engine groaning gradually slowly down until it came to a stop. He got out and open the hood, he couldn't see anything wrong with the truck, he left the hood open and when to the driver side, and turned the key, but the engine stuttered.

He scratched his head, he got the oil changed recently, and everything was up to date. He looked at the map again, he figure it would take him 15 minutes to walk into town and get help. He grab his duffel bag of clothes, putting his hunting knife in his holster, as well as bringing his rifle. "Hopefully the townsfolk, don't shoot and ask questions later." He thought to himself. It was a long stretch of road he walked on, and no cars coming or going in his direction, like no one had used this road before. Not to mention forest surrounded him on both sides of the road. He heard something rustling nearby, aimed his rifle toward the noise. Although he couldn't see anything in the darkness he felt something was watching him. He put his rifle down, and continued walking until he saw the sign that said "Welcome to ---" he couldn't see the rest of it being covered by bushes.
The sign was deteriorating and looked like it had not been touched up in awhile, not to mention scratch marks across it. He look at it a bit more
"Cozy." He said out loud, he continued his walk into town.

[Katyuscha]

Jeffrey Saxon

Jeffrey Saxon sat quietly in the local donut shop, staring out the window at the darkness which never seemed to end. He took a sip of coffee and sighed. It seemed that every day the nights were getting longer and more gloomy. He sighed John Murphy, an old friend who owned the coffe shop, came out of the restroom.

"Awfully late to still be hanging around outside of home, don't you think, Jeff?" he said in a joking manor as he moved behind the counter and began collecting the remaining donuts to throw out.

Jeff laughed. "Doesn't make any difference where I am." he began. "This town hasn't felt like home in months." he took another sip of coffee before standing up and putting on his jacket.

Suddenly, something flashed into Jeffs mind. It was quick, but long enough for him to make out what ot was. A dark being, filled with pure hate and fear. Then, just as fast as it had come, it was gone. He cringed for a moment before looking around the room and at John.

"You ok, Jeff? You seem a bit off tonight. said John, worried.

"Yeah..." Jeff responded aftee a short delay. "I'm fine. I'll see you tomorrow, John."

Jeff walked over to the door and began to open it, when he noticed a man walking down the street. He didn't recognize this man, and for some reason, this bothered him, but he ignored it and continued out the door.

"Oh, and, Jeff." John said quickly.

Jeff turned to his friend who had a worried face.

"Be careful out there. People have been seeing things in the woods lately, and..." he stopped.

"I understand, John. Good night." Jeffrey then closed the door behind him and began walking home.

John, then continued to collect the donuts and put them all into a trash bag. He walked to the back door and opened it, leading to the dumpsters. When he opened the door, he felt a presence, as if something was watching him. He looked around the area, seeing nothing unusual... until... his eyed met with a strange form which hid in the darkness of an alleyway. It didn't move or make any sound. It just stood there, silently.

He approached the figure slowly. Watching for any movement.

"He... hello?" he said hesitantly. "Are you ok?

He continued to walk closer to the figure until he was just 8 feet awsy. He stopped abd waited. The figure did nothing. It was still too dark to make it out. Quite unusual, as it seemed the darkness was much darker than it should be. He pulled a small flashlight off his belt and turned it on. It flickered for a moment before the light shone onto the creatures foot. It was furry. He moved up to its torso. Still furry. John began to get scared. He continued up until he reached the creatures face. It was a rabbits face.

He stared wide eyed at it, hoping it wasn't real. Suddenly, the rabbits mouth opened, revealing a pitch black hole with nothing visible inside. John shone the light into the hole, but the light would not penetrate the darkness of the hole, as if it were solid. Then, John heard something. Quiet at first, but it grew in volume and effect with every pasding second until all John could hear was white noise which hurt his ears and gave him a headache. He wanted to run, but he was paralyzed with fear. All he could hear was white noise, and the black hole in the rabbit began to grow bigger. Then, a hand reached out of the hole, followed by another and another and another, until ten pale and bloody hands were reaching out to touch John and take him away, but couldn't quite reach him. Suddenly, something else came out of the hole. It was a head with big teeth and black holes for eyes. It looked at him gor about 30 seconds before letting out a loud horrific scream and disappeared, leaving John alone and in shock. John then fell to the ground, unconscious and with a bloody nose.

[Soviet Ruk-Tsan]

"The humans. You find them a threat to our kind?" The Slender Man seemed less to ask this then to demand it. Something was putting him in a bad mood.

[Mosasauria]

"Yes," it rasped.
"Several of us have already fallen to a certain group of them. This group wishes to capture or eliminate us. I need not say what our course of action is then, other than to stay contacted with each other, do I? Surely you must already know my plan. If not, then just kill. Or in you're case, merely play with the children of the town. Make your presence known, but do not make it appear in any way as if we are working together. When the time comes, we will strike back." It turned away from the Slender Man, and began to walk away.


It quickly continued on towards the houses, almost sprinting through the forest.
When it came upon the house, it saw that despite the time, the inhabitants were awake. Or, at least one of them was.
It could work with that.
It silently creeped towards an open window, staring inside. A younger human, soon to be an adult, was active within. She was apparently on a computer, and the lights were on. The girl looked around, apparently sensing its presence. It moved slightly to the side, laying down in the grass as she looked outside.
She closed the blinds, but it snarled loudly, frightening the girl inside and causing her to immediately reopen the blinds, her eyes frantically scanning the wilderness for any sign of a creature that could have caused such a sound. It stood up right then, looking straight into her eyes.
It watched as the horror twisted her face, and she disappeared from the window. From outside, it heard her sprinting.
Likely to go wake her parents.
Quickly, it moved outside the view of the window, as the girl's parents predictably looked outside.
It knew they would plainly dismiss the girl's frightened concern, and it decided to take advantage of that.

It stood in the same spot. Silent. For almost an hour, until the light in the girl's room went out. It walked back to the window, glancing over it for any cracks. It found a particularly long one, and slowly, ran one of the blades of its claws across the crack, making a faint screeching noise in the process. The lights turned on in the girl's room, and she opened the blinds again.
She saw its face, grinning, less than two feet from her own. She released a blood-curdling scream, and it ran off as it heard sprinting from the hallway inside.
It watched from the distance as the light in her room once again went out. This was perfect. This would indeed truly scare all the humans in the area.
It walked to the back of the house, where it found a small yard with a pool and a sliding glass door entrance into the house. Inside the yard was a doghouse. Even more perfect.
It slowly and silently approached the dog, a labrador, inside the doghouse, and with a quick swipe of its claws to the neck, put it out of its miserable pleasure-slave existence. All the dog could utter was a faint whimper. On top of the entrance to the doghouse, the dog's name was written. Sparky was the name. It took some of Sparky's blood, and crossed out the name on the doghouse.
Washing its claws in the pool, it headed to the sliding glass door. The family inside had foolishly left it open.
It creeped inside, looking for the girl's room. Finding the room, it slowly turned the door handle, finally being able to observe the girl sleep. It looked around the room, acknowledging that it was typical of human females of that age. Rather plain coloring, somewhat garish decor, and her stuff strewn across the room. It approached a binder it spotted on the floor.
It noticed the name "Bianca" scrawled across the cover.
It approached her sleeping form. Had the circumstances been different, it would merely observe her, then be on its way. But it needed to send a message to the humans. If the humans wanted it gone, then it would truly unleash hell upon them.
It gently stroked Bianca's chin, taking care not to cut her. As her eyes slowly fluttered open, it covered her mouth and nose with its hand.
She stared at it in shock, with a slight hint of despair dimming her eyes.
It may not have ever killed very frequently, but that was one thing that it lived for. Despair. The resignation of a human's mind to the end, despite the more primitive parts of the brain telling the human to continue to live. Such a thing thrilled it every time it killed.
It lifted its hand off of her mouth, and as she took a breath through her mouth, plunged its claws straight into her mouth, puncturing straight through, all the way to the lower part of her brain.
Her body immediately seemed to fall limp.
Every time it killed, the result answered a question that it always asked. And it always questioned whether other life actually existed or not, and wasn't just a spell or illusion of some kind. But if something died, then that meant the thing was alive. And that meant it found an answer for that thing.
It watched as the life faded from her still-open eyes. It removed its claw from her mouth, noticing that it was covered in her blood. Finding an open spot on a wall in her room, it wrote in her blood.
"You should have listened to Bianca."

It took her body outside, and set to work preparing its final act for the night. Taking the corpses of Bianca and Sparky, it dismembered parts of them, splaying ligaments, and splicing bones together. Connecting this and that. Removing that and this. Creating a new corpse.
The end result was a bloody, grisly, two-headed, eight-legged masterpiece. Bianca's arms were attached near Sparky's shoulders, and her arm reached outwards towards the ground, her hands forming more legs.
Her legs were attached just behind of Sparky's hind legs, forming an extra pair that appeared as if it was for leaping of some kind. Bianca's ribs now formed spikes along the spine of the carcass, and her own spine was used to extend the tail. Bianca's head took the place of Sparky's, with Sparky's head now resting on the end of that tail-spine.
It gently pushed the carcass back into the doghouse, in a position that, at a glance, would make it look as though the dog, Sparky, was still sleeping normally.
Finally, using the large amount of blood on its claws, it wrote underneath the now-crossed out Sparky.
Bianca

As it once again washed its claws in the pool, it then used its claws to create a rune in the dirt. An ancient rune, probably long forgotten by humanity. If they have not forgotten the rune, then they will know that it refers to them. Identifying them as Its targets.

It then headed to the front of the house, going to the front door. It began to frantically bang on the door and ring the doorbell several times, after which, it sprinted down the road, away from the few houses on the outskirts of the town.

Its work complete, it would return to the area of the forest near the town by tomorrow.

[Soviet Ruk-Tsan]

The Slender Man dissapeared, pondering his conversation. It thinks I don't kill? He would prove he was perfectly capable of this. He appeared behind a drunk couple, walking through the dark. The Slender Man performed an action that, had he possessed one, would be reffered to as clearing his throat. The man turned. "Holy crap!" The man grabbed his phone, holding it up shakily and recording. The Slender Man, had he possesed a mouth, would have grinned. He would prove the rake dead wrong.

[Videssos]

The Weeping Angel

The lighting in the glasshouse flickered suddenly, as the collector was idly looking through various statues he had acquired. The man pursed his lips in disapproval.
"Seems I must complain to the electricians again, for not fixing the lighting in here." He murmured to himself. The man didn't notice that one of the statues had moved. A scraping sound elicited in him the desire to turn around, and he gasped in surprise as he saw the Weeping Angel, fangs extended and taloned hands almost ready to do grievous harm upon him. Unfortunately, the man blinked. In the fraction of a second, his neck snapped with a sickening crunch, and his body collapsed in a heap. Now, I shall see what pray lie within the house ahead, and beyond. The angel knew that other creatures generally regarded by the majority species of Earth- humans, were seen as strange, "unnatural" or otherwise differing from the normal human preconceptions of biological life forms, were converging on this little town. Anyone monitoring the power supply would start to notice fluctuations in the area as the angel fed upon the power supply.

In an instant, the Lonely Assassin moved forward, out through the door. It smashed through the back-door of the house, and then proceeded into the weakly lit living room. A young girl was sat; slouched on a black couch, watching TV.
The lights and the TV all flickered in unison. This time though, the Angel simply fed on the victim's potential energy. The prey was sent back through time to a random location in a random era. This was the Angel's preferred method when it came to feeding and ensuring that no evidence remained of the individual. The Angel quickly returned to deciding on a course of action for the message it had heard earlier. It would head to the location that the call had come from, though it sensed that the creature that had made the call was no longer there. So for now, it would hunt in the darker parts of the town; making any humans who wondered into such an area easy pickings.
It would stick to the shadows. There, it would not be seen; and thus would travel much faster.