The Metamorphs
Posted: Fri Feb 18, 2005 4:03 pm
Extracts from Agency Files, 18655, 19002, and A 4882.
Names have been changed in the following account to protect the privacy of those involved.
The incident began in an old industrial town located in part of what is called the "rust belt." I was driving past blocks and blocks of old buildings. A few with markers dating them to the 1800's, but they were still here. As I turned down a side street, I was thinking about Charlie, an Autistic Psychic Savant. We had found Charlie at a homeless center. One of our Agency Contacts realized the boy was gifted. Now Charlie is in a foster home, but he enjoys visits from his special friend. It was during one of those visits that Charlie spelled out a Psychic Message giving the rough location of something evil. It was my job to find it. I only had a few landmarks to locate.
It took a few days but I found the place. A faded sign with a painting of a bulldog on an old bar in the midst of abandoned factory and warehouse buildings. As I walked up to the door at Mick's Bulldog Bar, I didn't think it was open. It was, but when I walked in I felt that funny feeling I get when the supernatural is around.
"Hi. How ya doin?"
"I'm alright." I quickly took in an old bar that was lit by one five watt bulb. Two men were sitting in a corner, otherwise it was empty.
"Place is almost empty now, but things'll pick up after 5. Always do."
"Are you Mick?"
"Yeah, I'm Old Mick."
"Nice to meet you, Mick." I ordered a beer and got the distinct impression this place hadn't changed in forty, maybe fifty years. I told Mick a story about how I was just passing through. I could tell he didn't buy it. In fact, he seemed a little nervous.
"Well, I'll see you around Mick!" Then I drove off to do a little recon work. If there was something evil in the area, odds are "it" has done something to somebody. I was a few blocks away when I noticed a small roadside memorial. There was a small cross, a candle in a glass and a few stuffed kid's toys. I stopped to examine it, and noticed there was something in Spanish on the glass candle holder.
"Who are you?"
I turned to face an elderly woman with a Spanish accent.
"Are you from the police?"
"No, ma'am. I'm not from the police. What happened here?"
She looked at me with suspicion but spoke anyway. "The police don't believe us. The creatures killed Marta, but they don't believe us. I read in the newspaper there was traffic accident but it is not true."
She sounded angry and sad at the same time. I told her I wanted to know the real story. This sober sounding woman told me about men with twisted faces, one with fangs, another with horns, and one with a tail. And how she observed one of them change from a real man into one of the creatures. After asking her a few questions, it became clear these were not vampires or well-known shape changers.
I spent that night going through old Agency files I kept on my laptop. As I read, I kept thinking that I'm the one who usually ends up encountering the truly weird and unique. I wouldn't call it bad luck and it's not really what I'd call a curse. It was all part of what I had to do to keep people safe.
There are truly monstrous supernatural beings, but there are also those who walk among as humans who can change their shape to become something else. There are myths about these creatures from around the world, but sometimes, there are variations on the theme. Beings of great supernatural power sometimes come to our world and offer humans strange supernatural powers in exchange for their service to this great evil. The people who agree are usually very evil already and the rest are lost and frightened and are seeking revenge or some kind of control. None of them realize that the being they are dealing with will crush them eventually, much like a murderer who kills any witnesses to his crimes.
So I went to bed wondering about exactly what I might be dealing with and how many. The old Spanish lady I talked to gave me the impression there were only four or five. I say only because they seem to kill people and then leave the body alone. This compared to other creatures who eat their victims, for example. My theory was that these were people who became drunk on power and their ability to turn into murdering fiends. Likely, they were interested in getting revenge for relatives that had been gunned down by street gangs and those who just enjoyed killing. They didn't realize that the route they were taking made them more than monsters but humans that had chosen death rather than finding a way out for themselves.
It was 3 AM when it happened. A lizard-like hand covered my mouth, and I stared up into a face that was deformed. The cheek bones didn't line up, one eye was bigger than the other and the face was covered in snake-like scales. A fist came down and smashed into my face. Using my legs, I kicked it off me. While it lay on the floor I threw a blanket over it and held it down. It was hissing and squirming underneath but I was within reach of my gun. I pressed it against its head which was covered by the blanket.
"Feel that? You know what that is?" The thing moved its head in the affirmative. Past experience told me that the next second would decide whether the thing would live or I would have to kill it. It began to laugh.
"You can't kill me! If you do, my brothers will come for you!"
"Why did you attack me?"
"Why? Why does anyone attack anybody? You don't belong here! Get out! Get out now!"
"No. You don't understand. Tell your brothers that I will not leave." I pressed the gun against its head even harder. "Understand?"
It stopped talking and I let it get up, slowly. It was wearing average clothing and except for the arms and head, looked like a normal human. It walked out without saying a word. I got on the phone and talked to Analysis. I wasn't going to be sleeping the rest of the night anyway.
I examined the blanket I had thrown over it and spotted a scale that had come off. As I held it, it began to grow into a small, green lizard and I dropped it. Then it talked.
"What are you human? You are not more powerful than I. Tell me what you want and I might give it to you."
I was frozen in place. When I spoke, it was like someone else was talking. "I don't want to know what you are. Just stay away from me!"
"You were not frightened a moment ago. If you are looking for power I can give it to you."
I was still holding my gun and I fired at it. It died and discorporated into what looked like black oil. A short while later the police showed up. I told them I had been attacked and defended myself. They asked to see my gun permit and told me I was lucky I wasn't killed. And left.
----------
Part Two later.
Contact_21
Lazlo Agent
Names have been changed in the following account to protect the privacy of those involved.
The incident began in an old industrial town located in part of what is called the "rust belt." I was driving past blocks and blocks of old buildings. A few with markers dating them to the 1800's, but they were still here. As I turned down a side street, I was thinking about Charlie, an Autistic Psychic Savant. We had found Charlie at a homeless center. One of our Agency Contacts realized the boy was gifted. Now Charlie is in a foster home, but he enjoys visits from his special friend. It was during one of those visits that Charlie spelled out a Psychic Message giving the rough location of something evil. It was my job to find it. I only had a few landmarks to locate.
It took a few days but I found the place. A faded sign with a painting of a bulldog on an old bar in the midst of abandoned factory and warehouse buildings. As I walked up to the door at Mick's Bulldog Bar, I didn't think it was open. It was, but when I walked in I felt that funny feeling I get when the supernatural is around.
"Hi. How ya doin?"
"I'm alright." I quickly took in an old bar that was lit by one five watt bulb. Two men were sitting in a corner, otherwise it was empty.
"Place is almost empty now, but things'll pick up after 5. Always do."
"Are you Mick?"
"Yeah, I'm Old Mick."
"Nice to meet you, Mick." I ordered a beer and got the distinct impression this place hadn't changed in forty, maybe fifty years. I told Mick a story about how I was just passing through. I could tell he didn't buy it. In fact, he seemed a little nervous.
"Well, I'll see you around Mick!" Then I drove off to do a little recon work. If there was something evil in the area, odds are "it" has done something to somebody. I was a few blocks away when I noticed a small roadside memorial. There was a small cross, a candle in a glass and a few stuffed kid's toys. I stopped to examine it, and noticed there was something in Spanish on the glass candle holder.
"Who are you?"
I turned to face an elderly woman with a Spanish accent.
"Are you from the police?"
"No, ma'am. I'm not from the police. What happened here?"
She looked at me with suspicion but spoke anyway. "The police don't believe us. The creatures killed Marta, but they don't believe us. I read in the newspaper there was traffic accident but it is not true."
She sounded angry and sad at the same time. I told her I wanted to know the real story. This sober sounding woman told me about men with twisted faces, one with fangs, another with horns, and one with a tail. And how she observed one of them change from a real man into one of the creatures. After asking her a few questions, it became clear these were not vampires or well-known shape changers.
I spent that night going through old Agency files I kept on my laptop. As I read, I kept thinking that I'm the one who usually ends up encountering the truly weird and unique. I wouldn't call it bad luck and it's not really what I'd call a curse. It was all part of what I had to do to keep people safe.
There are truly monstrous supernatural beings, but there are also those who walk among as humans who can change their shape to become something else. There are myths about these creatures from around the world, but sometimes, there are variations on the theme. Beings of great supernatural power sometimes come to our world and offer humans strange supernatural powers in exchange for their service to this great evil. The people who agree are usually very evil already and the rest are lost and frightened and are seeking revenge or some kind of control. None of them realize that the being they are dealing with will crush them eventually, much like a murderer who kills any witnesses to his crimes.
So I went to bed wondering about exactly what I might be dealing with and how many. The old Spanish lady I talked to gave me the impression there were only four or five. I say only because they seem to kill people and then leave the body alone. This compared to other creatures who eat their victims, for example. My theory was that these were people who became drunk on power and their ability to turn into murdering fiends. Likely, they were interested in getting revenge for relatives that had been gunned down by street gangs and those who just enjoyed killing. They didn't realize that the route they were taking made them more than monsters but humans that had chosen death rather than finding a way out for themselves.
It was 3 AM when it happened. A lizard-like hand covered my mouth, and I stared up into a face that was deformed. The cheek bones didn't line up, one eye was bigger than the other and the face was covered in snake-like scales. A fist came down and smashed into my face. Using my legs, I kicked it off me. While it lay on the floor I threw a blanket over it and held it down. It was hissing and squirming underneath but I was within reach of my gun. I pressed it against its head which was covered by the blanket.
"Feel that? You know what that is?" The thing moved its head in the affirmative. Past experience told me that the next second would decide whether the thing would live or I would have to kill it. It began to laugh.
"You can't kill me! If you do, my brothers will come for you!"
"Why did you attack me?"
"Why? Why does anyone attack anybody? You don't belong here! Get out! Get out now!"
"No. You don't understand. Tell your brothers that I will not leave." I pressed the gun against its head even harder. "Understand?"
It stopped talking and I let it get up, slowly. It was wearing average clothing and except for the arms and head, looked like a normal human. It walked out without saying a word. I got on the phone and talked to Analysis. I wasn't going to be sleeping the rest of the night anyway.
I examined the blanket I had thrown over it and spotted a scale that had come off. As I held it, it began to grow into a small, green lizard and I dropped it. Then it talked.
"What are you human? You are not more powerful than I. Tell me what you want and I might give it to you."
I was frozen in place. When I spoke, it was like someone else was talking. "I don't want to know what you are. Just stay away from me!"
"You were not frightened a moment ago. If you are looking for power I can give it to you."
I was still holding my gun and I fired at it. It died and discorporated into what looked like black oil. A short while later the police showed up. I told them I had been attacked and defended myself. They asked to see my gun permit and told me I was lucky I wasn't killed. And left.
----------
Part Two later.
Contact_21
Lazlo Agent