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X-treme Wrestling Federation » Warfare Boards » Warfare RP Board
Werewolf in Chicago Pt4: Reunion (rp1)
Author Message
Nathaniel Idenhaus Offline
Not a Nazi



XWF FanBase:
Hardcore, psycho fans

(cheered for breaking rules and bones; excessively violent; creative with weapons)


#1
04-18-2018, 12:44 PM




It had been several days since Nathaniel came to the startling revelation, that not only was he experiencing blackouts but he was also committing unspeakable acts of brutality, during these lapses in memory. He completely tore a man apart, in a way that no ordinary human could. He ripped the guy to shreds! Even more shocking was the fact that he fled the scene and made it to work the next day. Without the slightest bit of evidence, shedding light onto the fact that he had been out the night before, executing acts of evisceration upon a biology teacher in a school parking lot. This was insane. Not to mention, completely fucking dangerous. How could he commit to his cause and plot world domination and mass genocide, if there were times that he occasionally turned into a monster and disemboweled the locals? No, he would have to figure out how to get a handle on this situation. To regain control and insure that this issue didn't transform into a bigger liability, than what it already was presenting itself to be.

Be that as it may, this matter would have to remain on hold for the time being, for there were pressing work related concerns that currently presented themselves to Nathaniel. Namely, the fact that there were seven bodies existing within the refrigerated storage unit and only six of the corpses, had been checked in and confirmed on the cadaver registry form. So where did the seventh body come from? This made Nathaniel's head hurt. Because this meant, he had to talk to... her.

With a sigh, Nathaniel grabbed his clipboard and left the examination room. His attention locked onto a woman that was stationed behind a white, receptionist style counter. Her eyes glued to the computer in front of her, most likely viewing anything but work related material. Nathaniel cleared his throat and the woman raised her gaze to meet his. This woman's name was Hekate Hillcrest. Five foot, six inches tall, with dark brown hair, red rimmed glasses and a throwback fashion sense that looked like it was pulled directly off a chick from the 1970's. Annoying to say the least, she was a chore of a woman. Barely competent in the field that she was employed within, Hekate maintained her position in spite of her many flaws and failures. Nathaniel was pretty sure she was Jewish too.

"Hekate."

That name was the worst. It sounded like a noise someone might make, whilst trying to cough up a glob of mucus.

"There's six bodies on this registry."

"Yeah. What about it?"

"Why are there seven corpses in the fridge?"

"I don't know."

"Did you see who brought the seventh body here? Was it the police? Or was there a zombie apocalypse that I didn't hear about? Did he just get himself tuckered out, after a day of brain eating and require a nap?"

"No... I think the cops brought him in?"

"Is that really a question that you're asking out loud?"

"Well, that must be what happened. Although, I can't say with complete and total certainty, that I know that's what occurred. Since I wasn't here to witness it happening. You see, I stepped away for a minute or two. They could have brought the body in then."

"Right. Since you weren't here, they simply decided that they didn't need to sign in or say anything. Just toss the corpse in the fridge and be on their way. Fan-fucking-tastic."

"Well, where were you?"

"Filing the records for Ms. Fairfield, the first of the six bodies on the list of registered cadavers. In other words, doing my job."

Another sigh, Nathaniel turned away from Hekate and started walking back to the examination room.

"You know what... never mind. I'll figure it out."

From there, Nathaniel returned to the examination room, walked over to the mortuary refrigerator and opened the door to the unidentified corpse. Pulling out the metal body tray, Nathaniel couldn't help but feel like he knew this man. From another time or place. Yet, at the same time, he knew that he never encountered this man before today. The guy was young, late twenties at the most, with a mop of dirty blonde curls and a neatly groomed beard and mustache. The sight of him triggered a mixture of confusion and inexplicable recollection. Though, Nathaniel couldn't place how or why this would happen. He swore that he didn't know this man, not even in a work capacity. Still, he couldn't shake the sensation that this man was more than meets the eye. Whatever that meant.

Just another drop in the bucket of weirdness that was gradually becoming Nathaniel's new normal. He turned and retrieved a syringe, in order to collect a blood sample and possibly attempt to find a match in the grand database of medical records, that were made available to him in these types of mysteries. DNA or dental records. Something would pop up. And if it didn't, there were always finger prints and the aid of the illustrious CPD. However, this is when the strange got even stranger. When Nathaniel turned back to the John Doe, that magically appeared in his corpse fridge and discovered that the body tray... was empty.

That's right. The body that had been settled on the cold, metal tray was gone. Now, this is the sort of thing, that might have someone questioning their sanity. Nathaniel knew that the body had been there. He knew it. Pulled the tray out of the fridge. Looked right at it. Not to mention, he felt firm in his belief that he wasn't losing his mind. Despite his recent blackouts. So what the fuck was going on? Yet, before he could ponder the situation any further, he felt an abrupt tap on his shoulder. Turning around, he would be greeted with the stark, frightening sight of no one standing there. Which of course was immediately followed by him pivoting back towards the metal body tray, only to be wrapped, tightly in the arms of the man that once occupied it.

"Nathaniel! I've missed you so much! How the heck are you?"

That's when Nathaniel finally understood what was happening and why this man seemed so familiar, while failing to resemble anyone that he knew.

"Please tell me that you have pants on."

It was the fuckin' alien. That damn spaceman. Azrael Erebus.

"I'm not sure. Wanna check for me."

Azrael roared with laughter as Nathaniel, shoved him away. His human facade, instantly replaced by his true form, Azrael vanished from sight, only to reappear on the other side of the room. Where he dropped into a sitting position within the comfort of a swivel chair. Oh and he was fully clothed by this point. Although, it's unclear when exactly this took place, just know that at this current moment in time, he wore clothes. Black boots, pants and tank top, with a long sleeve black button up shirt over that, left partially open and a black fedora, worn on a slight tilt to the right, like he preferred. A hint of fire smoldering within the spaceman's eyes, he always seemed extra, iridescently pale when he wore dark colors. Not that the seven foot tall, man from the stars wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb otherwise.

"To what reason, do I owe this random visit from you?"

"Nothing in particular. I simply figured that with both of us back in the XWF... it warranted a reunion."

"You say that like you have the misconception that we were friends in the past. Allow me to clear that up for you, we weren't."

"Awwww... but we were on the same team! We shared some laughs, kicked the shit out of people, you shot me in the head once and I fixed your broken leg, with the power of my amazing spaceman DNA."

"You really don't need to bring that last part up. Ever."

"Okay, but it happened. Despite there being zero video evidence of it ever occurring."

"Right. I remember and the favor was appreciated. It just doesn't need to be reiterated, whenever you make it a point to show up for a social call."

"Can't have it known that your pure, German blood might have been tainted by alien DNA at one point. It's cool, I understand. Though, if it makes a difference, whatever changes or alterations that could have occurred, have most assuredly, run their course. All traces of my DNA, should be long gone from your system by now."

"Really? Is that so?"

"Yeah, you should be able to fly the Deutschland flag, with a clear conscience and your head held high. Although, that doesn't really fix your other problems."

"My other problems? I'm not sure that I know what you mean?"

"Oh come on, Nathaniel. It's me. How long have we known each other? You know, I just know things. It's what I do. On top of that, you reek of wolf. Not a scent that others might pick up on but this spaceman's nose, knows. So tell me, when did this transformation take place? Wait. Don't tell me. You went back to your homeland. Perchance, in order to rekindle some of that absolute, unadulterated hate, fire and brimstone, that might have sizzled out during a trial that saw you losing your career as a fancy pants, surgeon. Does that sound about right? I feel that I'm on the right track here. Anyway, Germany is like werewolf central. Especially all those old WW2 stomping grounds. Seriously. It's like the words - Nazi and werewolf, are synonymous with each other these days. So it's not surprising that you contracted the wolf curse. I mean, it could be a lot worse. You could have been bitten by a zombie. Fun fact, I actually know a zombie, that learned to control his 'spontaneous outbursts of cerebral cravings'. Well, to the best of his ability anyway. Shows quite a bit of self-command and restraint and can actually switch to 'full on zombie mode' at will. His name is Zane Norrison. Works for a morgue in New York. Nice guy. Only gets his brains from the recently deceased."

"Fascinating. Lets say that you're correct about what happened..."

"Um... no, I know that I'm correct."

"Okay. Fine. You're unequivocally correct."

"Damn straight."

"Anyway, I went to Germany, there was an incident and now..."

"You're a Nazi werewolf! That's fucking amazing. I can't wait to tell Frodo. In fact, I'm going to text him right now. Hang on two seconds."

Azrael pulled out his cell and quickly sent a text message to Mr. Smackins, promptly replacing the phone back into his pocket, once he finished this activity. A broad grin, sliding into place upon his face. He was definitely amused.

"I'm sorry. I can't help but find this matter extremely entertaining. I mean, I'm literally beside myself, with the hysterics of it all. Haha! It's really too much! Nevertheless, I'll do my best to regain my composure, cause I can tell this isn't a laughing situation for you, despite it being utterly hilarious, from where I'm sitting."

Azrael took a deep breath and leaned back in the swivel chair, kicking his long legs up onto a nearby cabinet as he did this.

"So you contracted the wolf curse. Can I assume that you weren't able to locate the one responsible for your condition?"

"That assumption would be accurate."

"Suffering from any blackouts? Loss of memory? Have you killed many people yet?"

"Yes. To both the blackouts and the loss of memory. However, as far as the death toll goes, there's only been one that I can absolutely confirm. Who knows if there are others..."

"Sounds like you need to wrangle up some control and take charge of this whole werewolf situation. Lucky for you, I think I might be able to help."

T.B.C
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