CHAPTER: 5

The whirring of chainaw blades against cherry wood trunks sung in the air like a monastery reciting their morning prayers. The air smelled mostly of tree bark, wood, piss, dung, and funnily decay. A group of men were gathered around a box which they knew contained the most disgusting sight ever, the stake driven through it served as an assurance that the sight won't be pleasant.

"Kirba, come have a look at this."

The one named Kirba got up from the trunk he lay on, lazily approaching his summoner, hands-in-pocket. He wasn't in the least fazed by the bulk of muscle the man wielded which came with a fine mass to fit. In fact Kirba found it adorable. Kirba on his own wasn't bad looking, his lean figure bore good substance, even his face yelled vigor, his eyes a striking unnatural shade of blue. The only oddity was the blue trace on his right eye, it almost made him seem like some god of war go-crazy fan. Normally he would lie that he was a man of tradition so it was more or less a trademark on his part but this group knew better. Tattoos of different sorts riddled his right forearm, runes, dragon, butterfly, basically anything he felt had a purpose in life.

"Pop the lid, will ya'." He said as arrived to at the site. He observed the remaining workers who were busy with leveling down trees and chopping wood.

One of the men who held a crowbar opened the box as it had been nailed shut. On removing the covering they were greeted anew with the smell of fresh decay. The stench alone could drive a normal person insane but they were used to this or rather were resistant to it.

Kirba approached the box removing the lid completely. He observed the decayed body in it. Shriveled and dried up, the mouth open as if yelling, the hole the stake created in its chest, eyeballs long decayed, hair almost lost. The only feature that gave it an odd look were it pointed fangs that were still white, although slowly decaying.

"This is the fifth one we've seen this week." The muscle man informed.

"I know..." Kirba ran a finger on the tooth, "...I keep track of what is going on. Um, somebody with pliers." A kid handed him the tool he asked for and ran off towards the working men.

"Alrighty now!" Kirba gripped a tooth and yanked it out, observing it to the last detail. "This one died two days ago, odd." He waved the men to continue their business and they all dispersed, all except muscle man. "Niané corak flaim sus para dan," Kirba chanted causing a blue flame to consuming the body and its casket.

"What is it sir?" Muscle man finally broke the silence.

"Is this the work of vampires? Or are crusaders becoming overzealous in their work?" He spoke to the man in the same foreign tongue he chanted in, a tongue that had been forbidden.

"We believe it is the work of crusaders. Some of the vampires are in a state of distress."

"Is that so?" He began to leave then halted, "It might be possible that she is finally come forth and my leash can finally be broken."

"Well, honestly that is one far assumption. What if they just started going a little cuckoo and the humans are just protect themselves?"

"Even the simplest things have supernatural intervention Goman. You should know that by now."

"But still doesn't that spell trouble?"

Kirba paused and took a deep breath, "Indeed it does." He took off into the thick of the woods with the tooth still in his pliers. After a while of walking a wooden duplex cottage appeared within his range of sight. Invisible to human eyes but visible to those who truly sought it.

He waved his hand over the knob releasing blue wisps into it. A click was heard shortly after and he opened it allowing himself into the modernly furnished New York style living room. It held a furnace, a smooth carpet and a comfortable reading chair. The floor was tiled in black porcelain. Basically the room was rather expensive for a magical wood cutter.

"Drax! Where are you you stupid bird?" Kirba called out with eyes focused on the stairs.

"Says the jackass who behaves like hiding his head in the soil means no one can see him," came a reply from the top floor. Feminine by nature.

"Get down here this instant..." Kirba's face was reddened with fury as the insult rendered him sunk in, "...and I'm not a bloody ostrich."

A raven flew down the stairwell and onto the comfort of the reading chair. "You definitely remind me of one?" It commented.

He gave a silent hiss, "Now is not the time for a damn squabble, we found something."

"Lemme guess, another one of those blood drinking curs, aye?"

"Yes, I want you to scout the area for any shaman or crusader's camp. I believe this one was just done a few days back, before we were sent here," his tone had that seriousness in it.

"Look fam, you give me orders, fine. But looking like Athena when she cursed Medusa, that is just crossing the fucking line. Ya hear me?"

"Are you even hearing me?" Kirba's eyes were already bulging out in frustration and annoyance.

"Now that's much better," the raven chuckled.

"How on earth did I get cursed with you as my flinché?"

"Hey now, if I remember correctly the curse is standing in front of me. And besides if it's what we think it is you might actually be able to deal with it sooner than you think, aye?"

"I-I suppose." He began to walk towards the stair with his hands crossed behind him, deep in thought.

"Kirba-" a wisps of blue aura were visibly dancing in the ravens eyes, "-is it time to finish the job?"

He paused facing the stairs, his eyes void of emotion, staring into a very existent void. "Slowly Drax, slowly." He continued his ascent and soon left the bird alone in the room.

"Well I've got a job to do." The flinché got of where she was perched onto the tiled floor. Blue aura leaked from her body like mist on ice cubes. The sound of cracking bones soon replaced the calm of the air. Her body was realigning itself for the task it was given. A snout soon replaced where her beak occupied, her feathers now fur, her talons and wings now sturdy paws which bore unearthly claws. When satisfied with the fruit of her transformation she let a loud howl which rung through out the woods. It was time to hunt.

*******

"...and that's basically what you need to know about me." Haven spent the entire breakfast talking about what the flinché race were, Sullivan's jaw was already tired and plus in order for him to keep conversing with them he would need food which was denied him from the start.

"In very simple words you exist to assist me physical-wise and magic-wise?" Phara asked for the sake of sanity.

"Yes! And Laurel would you drop me right now?" The feline was to tired to claw his way through and just waited for the girl to pay heed to his request.

Instead of the girl giving heed to his words she lifted him to her view point, "How can you even talk?"

Sullivan deadpanned at the question, "ARE YOU STUPID OR UTTERLY DAFT? I EXPLAINED TO YOU WHAT, WHO AND HOW I AM AND HERE YOU ARE GIVING ME A STUPID QUESTION. ARE YOU AN I..."

Before he could complete his words he was flung into the wall causing him to give a loud yelp. Luckily for him he could ricochet off onto the counter. his hair was on end.

"WHAT DID YOU DO THAT FOR?" Fear already making his words shaky.

"Be careful not to call her an idiot, she takes it rather personally," Phara intoned, obviously uninterested in their squabble.

"Phara warn your monster properly or else I'll rip his fur off."

"And what if he turns into a seal?"

"Then I'll skin him alive."

Phara felt the chill her words carried, not that it meant anything to her it was just that she realized how deeply offended Laurel was. "Sullivan, the next time you insult my younger sister I'll make you a case for the gods."

"Urm... I won't but just so you know 'gods' don't exactly exist."

"Then what do the higher powers refer to themselves as?"

"There is the highest order and he is referred to as The Soverign, the God of gods, King of kings."

"Like the father of the Christ, the giver of the Holyspirit?"

"Yes, that Sovereign. Then there are celestials and they consist of angels, mythical beasts, some of the so called gods, cherubims, and mortal men who found favour in the eyes of the Christ. But instead of being called gods, they are referred to as Oarky (O-ar-kee)."

" Oarkeeeee?" The term left Phara with squinted eyes. It sounded so cliche, almost like an organization or something.

"I expect that you take that into memory as you are now aware that your house is not a regular human home, cos you aren't even human to begin with." Sullivan sat down on the counter to clean himself.

"I thought I just fed you?" Phara was annoyed by the sight.

"You did!"

"What makes your fur delicious all of a sudden?"

"I'm cleaning myself, dimwit. Isn't this a cat thing?"

" But you're a flinché."

" And as a flinché I'm in the form of a cat. Please I don't have the muscle to entertain your current display of absolute stupidity."

Phara gritted her teeth silently," You know for a cat you are quite wordy."

Sullivan just ignored her and got off the counter to his next destination. "Don't go looking for me cos you won't find me."

As if anyone would go looking  for you.

Laurel let out a soft sigh and approached the refrigerator. "You know Phara things might become a little too lively from now on."

" You are one to talk,..." She let a soft sigh escape her lips, the oncoming frustrations already sending their breeze her way, "...but you are right things will become a little too lively even for my own good."