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The Only Way Out is Through

Published: Jun 27, 2017

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beast blutmond commission cyborg denver hunter johan rabbit revenant threat vampire warning nazcapilot dark_forest black_jaguar shadowpantherkat monster_slayer security_system doctor_kelley native_altars

Description

Des Moines, Iowa / June 23th / 11:15 P.M. --

No matter what time of day, the desiccated forest was always obscured by shadow. By design, the secluded, Stygian wilderness was perpetually shrouded in a somber mist that embroiled the landscape. In actuality, this synthetic forest situated hundreds of feet below the scenic vistas and bustling boulevards of Des Moines, Iowa, served little more than proving grounds. Here young huntsmen proved their mettle in preparation for entering hunting society. The only sure method to maintain one's barrings was to simply follow the lights that marked the entrance to a subterranean wing of the Blutmond Huntsmen Division headquarters at 137 Rohrbach Plaza. Most were content with the notion that this temple-like skyscraper--appropriately called The Ziggurat by locals--operated as any other subsidiary branch of Native Altars, a corporate entity specializing in federal defense and advanced technologies. But just like their competition at Lockheed Martin, there was so much more hidden from the public eye inside the fringe of an all-encompassing black budget.

Dr. Haden Kelley had undertaken this path on many occasions in the past, but this instance was unlike the others. The muscular rabbit was every bit as reserved and controlled as one would imagine for a man who wore little else but black. The doctor strode purposefully toward his destination. His pea coat and dress attire were almost immaculate in presentation. He had every right to be here, but the rabbit had no real business to be had in this dead forest beyond the personal. The man in black was not here on assignment, nor was he here at the behest of Homeland Security. The silent rabbit sought only one object this fateful night: truth. And that object of his desire most likely rested behind what most would call a door. But it was so much more than a door. So much more.

The rabbit could see it now. Flanked by four columns of white light, two on either side, it was a smooth black blank slate. But that slate didn’t stay blank for too long. Upon approach, a large red owl hieroglyph took form directly in the center. With each step forward, more writing emerged. It recognized the doctor from his scent alone. This happened to be a distinguishing characteristic bestowed upon him by those who made him the man he was today. But one glittering glitch on the black slate caused the rabbit to stop entirely. Dr. Kelley took this time to tilt his head and perk his tall ears. The flashing symbol insinuated that he was hardly the only sentient creature in its radius of approach. And it was after but a brief moment that the good doctor identified the probable location of the interloper.

“It would be wise if you chose this time to reveal yourself,” the rabbit calmly stated. His voice was soothing and restrained, but nevertheless, intimidating, “If your intentions are benign then you have no need to stalk me from a distance.”

“As always, you remain ever the keen hunter, Dr. Kelley,” a chimed a pleasant voice out of the darkness.

The owner, whomever it happened to be, had the lively, insouciant attitude of a young man in high school. But there was an unsettling undercurrent to his intonation. It was one that conveyed an implicit expertise and authority inherently incompatible with adolescence. The incongruence was altogether disquieting, but Dr. Kelley appeared untroubled. His expression remained unaffected as he promptly identified the person of interest.

“I hope my hunting patterns don’t give me away so readily.”

“You are far from Sedona, Mr. Rejón,” the rabbit said, his right paw hovering over the hilt of his sword. “May I ask why you chose to follow me here to Colorado? As you and I are both aware, vampires are forbidden from entering the inner sanctum. Why flaunt protocol so brazenly?”

The rabbit slowly turned and came to face this pursuing intruder. At first glance, he was surprisingly unremarkable. Indeed, he looked like a mere high schooler, this stalking shadow. The young man, if he was truly young, was a boyish black jaguar in a navy-blue duffel coat, red and blue checkered shirt and tight blue jeans. All his features and every piece of clothing seemed fit to accentuate an ostensibly youthful façade. The coat he wore appeared slightly too big for him and his wild, unruly hair gave the impression he’d simply rolled out of bed.

“I mean no harm, Haden,” said the jaguar, bowing to expose his neck. “I’m here on behalf of a dear friend. One who fears for your safety.”

“She should not have asked for your assistance,” he said with detached impassivity, immediately guessing the friend in question. “It was improper for my daughter to call upon you.”

“Haley means well,” the young man posited with a chuckle. Even a slight allusion to the snow leopard couldn’t dislodge the rabbit from his dour demeanor. “But please, must we be so formal? I’ve told you many times that you’re free to call me ‘Johan’ if you so please.”

“Fields have eyes, and trees have ears, Mr. Rejón,” said Dr. Kelley with that same discreet and impersonal coldness. “Regardless of how I may perceive your intentions, considering our current climate, I must remain unbiased and professional.”

Just then, a roar peeled out and echoed across the barren forest. Its cry was a dreadful sound of no mortal origin. The beast whose throat signaled this calamity was, in short, a chimeric vision of terror and trepidation. Wherever it originated, the message was sent. A revenant was in search of prey. Prey and reprisal.

The man in black glanced over his shoulder and saw the room was now sealed shut. At this point, there was no hope of entering that rarefied wing on this night. As of this very moment, escape was top priority. The only way out now was through the tempestuous heart of darkness.

“I know what you’re thinking, Haden. But they attacked me first," he jokingly admitted. "Mistakes were made, yes, but I didn’t kill them. I merely incapacitated a couple. Management will be none the wiser.”

“As ignorant as the many Groom Lake sentries who reportedly chased you off their premises?”

“What can I say? I’m not as professional as you yourself,” he cheerfully chortled, raising each fist in preparation for what would surely come next. “I’m weak and predisposed to making needless mistakes in the heat of the moment. I can’t help myself.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Rejón,” the rabbit argued, meticulously unsheathing his weapon. “I doubt that at your advanced age, you often make such needless mistakes, as you claim.”

These two are supporting characters in my story In the Shadow of Your Horns. You can read the whole story so far by clicking on this link:

www.penana.com/user/1057/nazca…

As always, I can't take credit for what you see here. This new piece was done by the always lovely

! In my mind, she's been on a roll lately. This piece and the one that came before it are among the best she's ever done for me, in my mind! I love what she has done here, and I hope you give her page a look while you're at it!

If you are interested, feel free to look over her Patreon, too:

www.patreon.com/poecatcomix/po…

art is ©

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