Post by gray on Feb 22, 2016 2:18:59 GMT
She was looking at him with some concern, again. Once more, he had awoken in a cold sweat, growling and ready to kill. Once again, the former Army Staff Sergeant had had the night terrors from the event that had caused this change in lifestyle. The woman beside him sat, giving him this look that said she cared but was also firm in wanting Murphy to tell her what had happened in his past to create these nightmares. Not that she did not have her own share, but it was the difference between them that the ex-soldier did not need to know what had happened to her in order to accept what it had done to her. Something in her eyes, however, said this time he would not be able to get back to sleep unless he spilled it all, this time.
And, of course, there was the matter that she was no weakling and could quite easily make him hurt in ways that were thoroughly unpleasant...
"Fine, love. Ya wanna hear it? I'll tell. Might as well. Not like the telling's gonna dredge up memories that aren't already fresh and clear in my mind, now.
"While I was still active and stationed over in Afghanistan, I was part of a unit sent to take or take out a priority target. There were twelve of us on that mission, split into two six-man teams. The target was reported to have moved to a compound in the hills neat the Tajikistan border. First we recon'd the area, taking out some traps and a few sentries, then slipping up and over to get a better look at this little compound. Only, it wasn't so much a compound as a small village. Still, we had orders, so we set about checking the place as best we could from a distance. We saw the target in a reinforced concrete house, and three of our own painted the building for a drone strike. The aerial strike was quick, brutal and cleansing, taking civilians as well as the target and his armed contingent. Our two units came down, weapons hot, night-vision active, and we started to canvas the area, looking for stragglers to make certain that no hostiles came out of this place.
"We were most the way through the complex of buildings, hadn't heard a soul stir, when we heard rubble shifting and saw this...this -kid- climbing out. He looked dazed, like you'd expect after surviving a blast wave and building falling on him and whoever else had been in there, but there was something...else...in his eyes. They...sparkled...glowed, almost. Both our units were close enough to see one another, and we were hand-signing to get in close and check the boy. He looked to be about fifteen, maybe, and was muttering in the local dialect when he saw us coming. He locked eyes with my captain and shouted something obviously angry. Then....at the time, I had never seen anything like it. The kid jumped, fucking JUMPED and came at Capt. Kintner. The cap never even got off a shot. One minute he was shouting to take the boy down, the next his throat was ripped out, and the boy was moving, his fingers -claws!- dripping Kintner's blood.
"The next four minutes felt like four days. A guy in the other unit was shouting in native that we were not there to hurt him, to calm down or he would be killed -leastwise, that's what I imagine he was saying. His shouting marked him for the li'l bastard, and the evil thing leapt again, moving almost faster than could be seen, and OUT went Corporal Sameem, only this time his throat was gone from the boy's jaws ripping out the throat while the claws went under his arm and stabbed deep through the meat. Then the kid became faster, running, slashing, biting, killing everyone in sight. We weren't exactly idle, though, emptying shots into him like crazy, and doing more damage to one another than to him. You've seen the scars on my left thigh. That was from that firefight, a through-and-through that thankfully missed anything vital but still put me on my ass. I should've been killed there, and would be dead, if not for Lieutenant Steppenhof. He already had the backs of his legs torn to pieces by the werewolf, and we could see it stalking towards him, now, menacing, taking its time with the kill, now that we were downed and no real threat to it. Not that we ever really were, I thought. Or maybe we had managed to shoot the fucker enough times that it no longer had the same speed while it was healing. I'm not sure. Steppenhof was taunting it, flicking it off, waving his K-Bar at the freak. The 'wolf couldn't see that the Lieutenant was toying with a grenade behind him. The monster stalked in closer, saying the first words I had heard it say in English. It said that we had killed his parents, and now we were paying for it by becoming food. It was then that I got a good look at him, his eyes, the claws, and the fangs. I was...terrified. But apparently, Steppenhof had more wits than I had ever given him credit for. He told the 'wolf that it was a demon and deserved to die, and that if they had killed its parents in the bombing run, that it must've been willed by God. The 'wolf laughed and said there was no God, then came in fast, jaws wide to bite and ready to kill. That K-Bar Steppenhof had been wagging wasn't just for show, though, and he suddenly lunged and buried it into the boy's chest. The 'wolf didn't even pull back and away. He just looked down, snarled something in Afghani, and again spread its jaws to go after the Lieutenant. I'll never forget the man for saving me, that day. Second Lieutenant Myles Steppenhof twisted and jammed the grenade into the thing's open mouth, then used the knife in one hand and the grenade in his other to keep the monster from spitting out the explosive. A flick of the thumb, a count of three, and then...no more 'wolf, no more Lieutenant. I managed to tie off some cloth into a tourniquet, then crawled myself back to our APC and called for an EVAC.
"When they got there...well, you can imagine I wasn't in the best state of mind, and none of them believed everything I said. I was placed into a hospital, told I was suffering PTSD, given meds and therapy for body and mind... Eventually I left, but I knew what I had seen. I started my investigations, and found that there were some really powerful individuals who did NOT want their secrets out there, and were effective at hiding things from those who mattered. I figured, if I had the training and the knowledge, I should do something about it all. Nearly got myself killed my first hunt. See, I didn't believe the stories of silver, then, seeing as how the Lieutenant had blown its head off with a blast. I managed to kill one that had been alone, but not before it ripped my stomach with its claws. The hospital loved me that night, wanting to know how I had managed to almost be eviscerated. I made up some story about camping and a bear attack. Since I was in northern California, it was believed, though the doctor said that it must have been a small bear for how close the score lines were. But...odd enough, it was there in the hospital that I met another hunter, and he...educated me. And that movie Underworld gave me ideas, though the only one I managed to get to work is the hollow-points capped in silver alloy. From there...well, you know a good bit of it, love."
With that, former Staff Sergeant Murphy McCullagh sighed and lay back on the bed, shaking his head.
"OK. I've told you. Can we please get some sleep, now? Tomorrow's probably going to be busy."
And, of course, there was the matter that she was no weakling and could quite easily make him hurt in ways that were thoroughly unpleasant...
"Fine, love. Ya wanna hear it? I'll tell. Might as well. Not like the telling's gonna dredge up memories that aren't already fresh and clear in my mind, now.
"While I was still active and stationed over in Afghanistan, I was part of a unit sent to take or take out a priority target. There were twelve of us on that mission, split into two six-man teams. The target was reported to have moved to a compound in the hills neat the Tajikistan border. First we recon'd the area, taking out some traps and a few sentries, then slipping up and over to get a better look at this little compound. Only, it wasn't so much a compound as a small village. Still, we had orders, so we set about checking the place as best we could from a distance. We saw the target in a reinforced concrete house, and three of our own painted the building for a drone strike. The aerial strike was quick, brutal and cleansing, taking civilians as well as the target and his armed contingent. Our two units came down, weapons hot, night-vision active, and we started to canvas the area, looking for stragglers to make certain that no hostiles came out of this place.
"We were most the way through the complex of buildings, hadn't heard a soul stir, when we heard rubble shifting and saw this...this -kid- climbing out. He looked dazed, like you'd expect after surviving a blast wave and building falling on him and whoever else had been in there, but there was something...else...in his eyes. They...sparkled...glowed, almost. Both our units were close enough to see one another, and we were hand-signing to get in close and check the boy. He looked to be about fifteen, maybe, and was muttering in the local dialect when he saw us coming. He locked eyes with my captain and shouted something obviously angry. Then....at the time, I had never seen anything like it. The kid jumped, fucking JUMPED and came at Capt. Kintner. The cap never even got off a shot. One minute he was shouting to take the boy down, the next his throat was ripped out, and the boy was moving, his fingers -claws!- dripping Kintner's blood.
"The next four minutes felt like four days. A guy in the other unit was shouting in native that we were not there to hurt him, to calm down or he would be killed -leastwise, that's what I imagine he was saying. His shouting marked him for the li'l bastard, and the evil thing leapt again, moving almost faster than could be seen, and OUT went Corporal Sameem, only this time his throat was gone from the boy's jaws ripping out the throat while the claws went under his arm and stabbed deep through the meat. Then the kid became faster, running, slashing, biting, killing everyone in sight. We weren't exactly idle, though, emptying shots into him like crazy, and doing more damage to one another than to him. You've seen the scars on my left thigh. That was from that firefight, a through-and-through that thankfully missed anything vital but still put me on my ass. I should've been killed there, and would be dead, if not for Lieutenant Steppenhof. He already had the backs of his legs torn to pieces by the werewolf, and we could see it stalking towards him, now, menacing, taking its time with the kill, now that we were downed and no real threat to it. Not that we ever really were, I thought. Or maybe we had managed to shoot the fucker enough times that it no longer had the same speed while it was healing. I'm not sure. Steppenhof was taunting it, flicking it off, waving his K-Bar at the freak. The 'wolf couldn't see that the Lieutenant was toying with a grenade behind him. The monster stalked in closer, saying the first words I had heard it say in English. It said that we had killed his parents, and now we were paying for it by becoming food. It was then that I got a good look at him, his eyes, the claws, and the fangs. I was...terrified. But apparently, Steppenhof had more wits than I had ever given him credit for. He told the 'wolf that it was a demon and deserved to die, and that if they had killed its parents in the bombing run, that it must've been willed by God. The 'wolf laughed and said there was no God, then came in fast, jaws wide to bite and ready to kill. That K-Bar Steppenhof had been wagging wasn't just for show, though, and he suddenly lunged and buried it into the boy's chest. The 'wolf didn't even pull back and away. He just looked down, snarled something in Afghani, and again spread its jaws to go after the Lieutenant. I'll never forget the man for saving me, that day. Second Lieutenant Myles Steppenhof twisted and jammed the grenade into the thing's open mouth, then used the knife in one hand and the grenade in his other to keep the monster from spitting out the explosive. A flick of the thumb, a count of three, and then...no more 'wolf, no more Lieutenant. I managed to tie off some cloth into a tourniquet, then crawled myself back to our APC and called for an EVAC.
"When they got there...well, you can imagine I wasn't in the best state of mind, and none of them believed everything I said. I was placed into a hospital, told I was suffering PTSD, given meds and therapy for body and mind... Eventually I left, but I knew what I had seen. I started my investigations, and found that there were some really powerful individuals who did NOT want their secrets out there, and were effective at hiding things from those who mattered. I figured, if I had the training and the knowledge, I should do something about it all. Nearly got myself killed my first hunt. See, I didn't believe the stories of silver, then, seeing as how the Lieutenant had blown its head off with a blast. I managed to kill one that had been alone, but not before it ripped my stomach with its claws. The hospital loved me that night, wanting to know how I had managed to almost be eviscerated. I made up some story about camping and a bear attack. Since I was in northern California, it was believed, though the doctor said that it must have been a small bear for how close the score lines were. But...odd enough, it was there in the hospital that I met another hunter, and he...educated me. And that movie Underworld gave me ideas, though the only one I managed to get to work is the hollow-points capped in silver alloy. From there...well, you know a good bit of it, love."
With that, former Staff Sergeant Murphy McCullagh sighed and lay back on the bed, shaking his head.
"OK. I've told you. Can we please get some sleep, now? Tomorrow's probably going to be busy."