Mission #6. Bloody Mess.

You can call me extraordinary. Yeah, you heard right, that's what people've been calling me lately. Well, not just me. Turns out, me, Pointy and Tool Kit are the hot shit in town. I don't like it. I sure am not the only guy with horns and a set of spurs. But the three of us? One huge troll, one pair of Pointies, acompanied by one Human? Pretty easy to spot. I don't like being easy to spot.

Its been three and a half weeks, when Pointy calls. Wants money. Didn't even mention the russion bribe money I kept. I was almost ready to give him the thirty K. But he didn't even try to convince me. I didn't play that hard to get. Sooner or later Leo texts: Meet at the Fat Turk at 400 hours. Some kind of concert. Poetry Slam going on. Meaning: A bunch of suits is nodding to a guy reciting the uglyness of the world while they're having champagne and kaviar.

Jimmy says, he needs back up. Rescue a dude who worked for lone star, undercover op. He got lost, sorta. Lost contact two days ago. Wants him out. Vegas is to assist us, of course. Analogue this time. Meaning: he's actually with us with us. We head to some adress in the slums. We have to walk. Vegas stays behind and I put Leofwyre on guard.

As soon as we enter east L.A. it's desert Island again. Barricaded houses. Rough roads. Everybody's staring at us. At some point between two disctricts, there are snipers on the roof, three guys in an empty bus: Pointy ears, a bunch of them. It's my lucky day. I shoot one guy and hack away the other. Cut his head off. Leo and Aaron take care of others. The three bastards in the bus try to shoot me. One if them actually hits his target. The guys on the roof shoot us, I spray the last one standing up there. By then the bus explodes and destroys the left overs.

The next area is troll controled. Since pointy's still invisible, it just takes me a couple of fist bumps and friendly grins to get through. One of them's kind enough to warn us about finger wrigglers in the Crypt King's. I shrug, give them a nod and roll my eyes towards Leo. They get the "Thanks mate, but today I don't really have a choice."

The King's territory fits it's label. It's like a grave yard around here. There's some tiny figure, whimpering and shivering. Leo pokes it. The thing jumps up, grenade at the ready hand and tries to attack him. Again, we prove our awesomness. The three of us acting almost flawless. Aaron takes down the figure, its all but dust in the wind.

If you think, that's weird, wait for whats up next. There are stranges noises coming from everywhere. Then actual zombies are appearing at every corner. Each and every friggin one of them is holding a fucking grenade. Aaron kills them with one flash bang. still, one of the grenades pops. I spot another zombie and pop it as well.

Cumbrously enough, there are some of the bastards left. Pointy recues me from one of them. I am still trying not to let that get to me. I catch another and it tries to bite me. He gnaws at my amour. Kidding me? Kidding me. 

But I want a closer look: They have cuts all over them. Bleeding cuts. Leo catches one, calls Jimmy, and manages to take pictures from the zombie he keeps dangling at arms length. Friggin blood mage's business all over again. SWATs on its way. Vegas announces two choppers.

We manage to head down to a building, it's surrounded by a gate. Remember the TWD episodes in and around the prison? Greens between fences? Well. You get the picture. Tool Kit plays the decoy, starts jogging around the area, luring the horde away from the main entrance. He drops his mini welder, so we can get through.

Inside there's nothing, but another room. Aaron says the fucking bloodmage's still alive. And in there. Along with the hostage. He peeks in there through the astro but when he comes back he has a really weird look on his face as he looks at me. Weirder than ususal, I mean. And as soon as he spots me he starts to wriggle his fingers. Hell no. I step on his hand, trying to be gentle. Pull him up, lock his hands behind his back with one hand, click my gun in place. I bust down the door, try to keep a wriggling Aaron out of harms way on my left, behind the frame. You can call me cutie pie. Spray all my ammo at the fucker in the room. I kill the ugly mage or whatever's left of him. But he hits me bad. One of my horns on fire. My armor is nothing but bits and pieces, hanging from my torso in shreds. Jimmy'll receive yet another bill.

As soon as the bastard's out, Aaron comes back. And complains, of course, since his smoking, battered comrad still has him in a dead grip. In the room along with now hopefully dead … thing-that-used-to-be the fitness model there is one human. Attached to machines, which pump blood through him. I grab a couple of blood bags since we don't want to un-hook him from the whatever and we go back outside. The choppers arrive. At the sight of the blood donor one of the crew dudes throws up right at my feet. If my horn wouldn't still be glowing I'd smash his head in right now. Give him some'n real to remember. Whoever is responsible for human resources really needs to rethink his emmo.

Fat Turkey, whisky on the way. I've earned that. Leo's drunk. It's seven in the morning. Jimmy's making coffee. And serves a bottle of the finest. Pour the scotch in my coffee.

Along with 28.000 and the Amber, Jimmy serves the latest gossip: we're becoming a local legend. There's no name yet. No real one, at least. Because: The Wolf Hunters. Seriously?