Welcome back to One World. I decided to go with another chapter with this over The Shading because that is more of an epic and I need more time. Also I am looking for some cover/ concept art so if you feel inspired by any of these scenes contact me and lets see if we can work something out. Don't be afraid to like or share!
2
Walter’s Watering Hole
Sam considered herself level headed, but she was pretty sure two officers were dead and that a man had resisted her magic. Developing a counterspell wasn’t unheard, but that meant that one would have to learn how to repel an exact spell from an exact person (even two people who had the same ability produced the magic in different ways, so they had to be dealt with differently) and Samson had rejected two of hers, meaning he wasted two whole spells just to fight off one teenage girl. As dramatic as it sounded Sam thought it was more logical that there was someone out there that was immune to magic. A witch with one spell was impressive, two spells were powerful, three masterful, and four, well there was a reason the government was still after Sam.
“What the hell is going on,” Sam said. Her voice was shaky, like a child that was about to cry. Her breaths were short, having used gravity to fly for a few blocks, then running another ten or so. She would have flown more, but flying with gravity was dangerous. It was like falling off a cliff, constantly picking up speed until reaching terminal velocity. Terminal being the most important word there.
Looking around Sam knew where she was, and a slight feeling of recognizing melted the tension in her shoulders. The roads-turned-parks were all empty, and most of the benches were covered in offensive graffiti. This was one of the most dangerous parts of town, meaning people who were running from the law were much more welcome. Sam walked down a deserted strip of park, out in the open. Most would think it wise to stay hidden, but Sam knew that being in the open meant that people following her would also be in the open, and with her abilities it would be that much easier to escape.
After a few minutes Sam was heard the familiar buzz of a flickering neon sign, dimly glowing in the late afternoon sun, flashing the words “Walter’s Watering Hole” in bright red, with the phrase “Humans Kill Aliens Here” flash in green. Sam guessed that the murder threat was sarcastic, but it drew a very specific crowd, the kind of crowd that chased away officers of the law with baseball bats and chains just because they infringed on a little girl’s right to take a walk during the day. Sam didn’t agree with their blood thirst, but there was a definite mutual disdain for all things extraterrestrial.
She pushed open the authentic wooden door with a heave, noting several burns that had been added since her last visit as she stepped into the waiting room. A man roughly the size of a president on Mount Rushmore stood guard over the curtain that led into the bar. He looked at Sam and snarled, though Sam was sure that was supposed to be a smile, because he pulled back the curtain to let her through.
“Kid’s here,” he yelled. The music changed from some grungy rock to an old western twang. Sam figured a show must have just ended because she saw a lady running off the back of the stage, a lady that seemed very exposed. Walter always found new people to perform at his bar, and it seemed like this new lady must have a very strange talent, seeing as there was a tall brass pole right in the middle of the stage.
Most of the guys in the place gave her a smile as she walked by, everyone but those closest to the stage. They just seemed disappointed, almost sad, to see her.
Sam got to the bar and pulled up a stool, slapping the counter to get the bartender’s attention. Walter looked right over and smiled. He was the kind of guy that could murder people before lunch and spend the afternoon volunteering at an old folks home. The teardrop tattoos on his face and the depiction of Jesus on his arms was a great example of his duality. He was also unbelievably hairy.
“Usual?” Walter said, his voice much too cheerful for his bulging biceps and sun dried skin..
“Yeah but stir it real good this time, I am tired of powder settling to the bottom,” Sam said. The other guys at the bar laughed, Sam knew if any of them talked like that they would probably bleed, but Walter had a soft spot for young women, in a nice way.
“Yes ma’am,” Walter said. He pulled a bottle of milk from the fridge and grabbed the chocolate powder from the shelf above all the hard liquor. “SAM” was written in black marker a few times on the container and lid.
“That dogman still after you?” Walter asked, sliding the chocolate milk down the bar.
“I think he is dead,” Sam did her best to sound cool.
“You earn your teardrops?” Walter said, pulling a laugh from a few of the patrons, though Walter looked more than a little concerned.
“Wasn’t me,” Sam said, after gulping her drink “Some guy that I couldn’t use my magic on choked him, picked him up by the throat with one hand.”
A few of the more grizzly men cheered a little at that, Walter seemed to understand Sam’s worry.
“None of your magic worked?” he said, setting down the cup he was polishing.
“I only tried two, but that seemed like enough. Two counterspells for one girl?”
Walter didn’t have a good answer and just grunted and shrugged. Most of the patrons seemed disinterested, though a few were perking up. One man with fire red hair, Sam didn’t know his name so she called him Lucifer, stood up and sat next to her. This was the kind of guy that looked, and smelled, like he lived in a bar.
“You should be dead,” he said. When he saw Sam’s face he chuckled to himself, “Maybe he isn’t all bad, sounds like he is ok with dropping off-worlders, too bad you got involved.”
“He said he came for me.” Sam said. She really wanted to look tough in front of these guys, but her courage wasn’t shining at the moment.
“I doubt that,” the man said, “He probably is a traditionalist. Lots of religious groups stirring to violence nowadays.”
Walter nodded in approval.
“He seemed spiritual,” Sam said, “he said he was ordained to clean out my plague,”
The man scoffed, taking a sip of his dark brown ale.
“Could’ve just meant women,” the man said. Those listening gave a rowdy cheer, as if women had collectively wronged all of them in some way.
Sam wanted to counter with a witty comment about the number of naked women the men in the room displayed in their tattoos, and how that might affect their ability to find a nice lady, but she needed information, or at the very least advice.
“Maybe, but he specifically called me out,” Sam said.
“And he countered to your magic?” Walter said. “Could just be a private bounty hunter who didn’t want to lose his payday.”
Sam thought that was a logical conclusion, Though she still had a hard time believing someone would counter two of her spells. Why would someone waste so much brain power on just her?
Walter read her expression, “You work your way higher and higher on the LS priority list. Who knows what tools they are hiding from us.”
LS. Landed Species. The government body that stood against everything that Sam stood for. She wouldn’t put it past a group of bureaucrats to spend so much on the pursuit of a truant, granted probably the most decorated truant ever.
“They will need more than one giant ass hole,” Sam said, “especially for a guy so willing to murder people he should be working with. More freedom for me.”
Walter rolled his eyes as a few men cheered. They had a warm connection, not quite father-daughter, but along those lines. Living on her own, there wasn’t too many people Sam could depend on, but Walter was, as cliche as it sounds, a rock. Even with his violent ink and steel wire beard Walter could have the kindest eyes.
“I get groups that come in here wanting to stir up fights all the time. LS has everyone wound tight.”
Sam frowned and looked into her chocolate milk.
“I’ll keep you safe,” he said, then added a wink and a smile.
Sam did feel better. Walter never admitted to it, but he knew too much about magic to not be a wizard. Part of the courtesy of being undocumented is not forcing other people in her same situation to admit to having secrets.
“You can stay upstairs with me,” a woman said.
Sam turned to see a woman walking to the bar wearing a long, black, skin tight, over coat that buttoned down the front, though at the top there must have been something keeping it from sliding off her boobs, and with each step Sam grew more certain that the slit in the front would open enough to see all her good parts. The lady looked Sam in the eyes and gave a seductive smile, raising an eyebrow as if she was curious. Her long blonde hair curled like a smooth fountain of the most unholy sin.
Sam was not a lesbian, but this woman had enough sexuality in one fingernail to turn anyone on.
“What?” Sam asked. It was actually harder to stay cool in front of this woman than it was in front of all the drunk old men.
“Lie low for a while,” she said, taking Lucifer’s drink, “get some rest. Maybe we could put on a show together.” She gave Sam a wink that sent uncomfortable shivers down her spine.
“Not for a few more years,” Walter said.
The woman laughed and stroked Walter’s arm gently.
“My name is Star,” the lady said, holding out her hand, the sexuality leaving her face, replaced with sincerity, “let’s have a little girl talk.”
Sam gave her name and took Star’s hand, the woman bent over and kissed Sam on the cheek, sending waves of really irritating emotions reverberating throughout her body. Sam really isn’t gay, Star just knows how to use her sexuality. Star went backstage and Sam knew she had to follow, though she refused to think about anything but the possibility of learning more about Samson, the giant from the frat house. Downing the rest of her milk Sam smiled at Walter and followed Star through a door that was hanging a little crooked leading behind the stage.
There wasn’t much light, though there didn’t seem to be very much to light up. Star was sitting at a vanity mirror with most of the bulbs burnt out, and oddly enough she was actually buttoning up her dress a little more, though it still was a little revealing.
“Lots of scumbags out there,” Star said, though it wasn’t the Star that lead Sam backstage. This voice came from a woman that looked like Star, though toned down a level or two, and wearing a hoodie. The new Star got up from her recliner and walked over. The other Star, the sexy one, vanished. Sam couldn’t help but smile, could one ever get used to seeing spells like that?
“I don’t feel as gross if it isn’t actually me out there, you know?” Star said.
“Yeah,” Sam said, though she did not understand that at all.
Star opened a bag of chips and began munching, offering some to share. Sam took a handful, anything over socks.
“In my line of work,” Star said, wiping greasy finger on her sweatpants,“ you get a lot of guys to talk, even officers of the law need to let loose sometimes.”
Sam felt something click in her head, “You get naked and men pay to see you,” Sam said.
Star laughed, completely unabashed, “Well that is the basic jist of things, yes. Though I’m not as pathetic as you might think.”
This was one of the strangest days. First the attempted murder, now she was actually face to face with a real stripper. With some of the extraterrestrial peace treaties a few human traditions became extinct. Things like roads, gross tasting unhealthy food, and people using sex to earn money (that included stripping, prostitution, and pornography). The Angels were to blame for that, their religion strictly forbade any such practice and most humans became infatuated with their new found sense of morality, adapting to the aliens wishes. After a few decades all the inappropriate practices simply disappeared. It warmed Sam’s heart to see that there were still threads of humanity tied to their roots, even though she didn’t exactly support the idea of people using nudity as a job, she liked that there were still humans out there. Dirty, disgusting humans.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to be so lame,” Sam said.
“I get it a lot, but I’m not embarrassed. I like keeping the human race tied to it’s past a little. Plus, that really isn’t me out there, learned to make a few improvements”
Sam thought that didn’t seem much better, but actually was proud that Star found a way to use magic in her life.
“How many other spells do you know?” Sam asked, curiosity peaked.
Star stopped, and Sam swore, realizing she crossed a line, never ever ask an undocumented witch or wizard about their spells. It was like asking to see a normal person’s naked body. Sam really needed to get used to being around a stripper.
“What were you saying about cops?’ Sam said, changing the subject
Star was taken aback by the invasion of privacy, but recovered well, “I get some asking for private visits, they are always willing to talk when they are alone like that. There is word that they have been having trouble with a guy that was hard to kill.”
“You got a cop to tell you that?”
Even though Sam hated cops, she felt like telling a stripper something like that broke a lot of laws. Star must have understood the irony too because she laughed and shrugged.
“Listen,” Star said, abandoning the conversation thread for a minute, “men want one thing. Everything they do is an attempt to get that thing.”
“I don’t follow,” Sam said.
Star looked like she was about to eat a rotten sandwich.
“Men pay me to do this,” Star said, creating a nearly naked version of herself, “the longer it takes me to get naked the more money, or other payment, I get. So long as they think everything will eventually come off. Do I need to go further?”
Sam thought she was starting to get it, and shook her head no.
“So what do you want?” Star asked.
Sam thought about that. She wanted to know more about Samson, she did not want to go back to the Academy, she wanted all the aliens to leave earth, she didn’t want to eat laundry anymore.
“Judging by how long it took you to answer you are a true woman and you want quite a few things. Well, you can use what men want to get them to give you what you want. Make sense?”
Sam considered the trade of getting naked for every man to convince them to kick out the aliens, especially the Angels and Shadows. She felt dirty and decided to force the conversation forward.
“What are you trying to say?”
“You need to keep your head down. I don’t know much, but I know there is something stirring out there,” Star said. She had an intensity in her eyes that, even for the short time Sam had known her (like five minutes), seemed out of character. A deep feeling of seriousness settled between the two. They held eye contact for a moment, and Sam decided she was going to trust Star. She was a classic human and seemed to have Sam’s best interest at heart. Out on the run a girl has to follow her gut.
Understanding Sam’s facial expressions Star broke the silence, “People like us have to stick together.”
Sam didn’t know if she meant girls, wizards or some other bizarre connection.. Star didn’t seem to care enough to explain and began talking fast. Not the type of fast when someone is scared or in a hurry, more like friends talking. Sam didn’t have friends. Still, for some reason this didn’t bother her at all.
As Star talked she began to show her true age little by little. Out in the bar Sam thought the woman was in her late twenties, but now Star didn’t seem too much older than Sam. She still had a young girl’s charm, and this thirst for life that Sam realized she had lost some time ago. That being said Star did have stories that could make your hair stand on end. She told stories of grumpy old men trying to take advantage of her, and the amazing ways she put them in her place. Stories that most young women would tell in group therapy sessions, Star paraded like they were funny jokes, or a light hearted coincidence.
Sam let her mind wander for a moment. Star didn’t need to work at a bar showing her body, albeit her fake body, to strangers. Sam wanted a friend on the road, someone to travel with. Star wasn’t the exact person she imagined her companion to be, but hey, a friend is a friend.
“Let’s leave,” Sam said, cutting Star off right in the middle of a story.
Star looked confused for a moment, than flattered.
“Soon.” Star smiled like she knew something really important.
***
Hound.
That was the first thing that went through his head, his first complete thought, the offensive nickname the girl had given him. Hound. Around that same time a dull pain radiated from his K9 teeth, his two sharpest fangs. It was the sensation he got when his body recognized danger before his brain could. Eyes still shut, he tried lifting his head, which sent a shock of pain down his spine. Trying to cry out Hound opened his mouth to scream, but all that escaped was a pathetic scratching whisper, like the sound of someone ripping thick cardboard, followed by a series of rasping, painful coughs.
Damn that girl.
Turning to the side Hound tried to open his eyes. Draped over a chair next to him he saw his uniform. It was pressed, but there was still a few specks of blood visible, along with four small holes where his badge should have been pinned to his breast pocket.
This made his teeth throb all the more. Something was wrong. Activating his senses, especially his hearing and scent, Hound heard the faint slap of flesh against metal, the distant tapping of expensive dress shoes on the linoleum floors, and the distinct stench of over priced cologne coupled with a freshly tailored suit. Two colognes. One was much cheaper, the kind you bought at a supermarket. Listening closer Hound heard the softer sound of rubber shoes squeaking as well. Most of his human counterparts at the station would mock him for recognizing the smell of a freshly tailored suit, but being a Mutt held distinct advantages.
As the sounds and smells amplified Hound locked his eyes on his door, which seemed to have been freshly painted with a gray, lead based paint. Hound would have liked to stand from his bed, ready to meet his intruder face to face, but he knew that his body would not allow that. Settling for a vicious display of his teeth Hound waited.
Barely a moment passed before two men came through the door. One dressed in a very formal suit, the other in a cheaply made black suit, the kind you buy to try and look fancy. The cheaper of the two was tall, dark skinned, and built like he knew how to kill. He was bald, but had a thick, well trimmed beard. The fancier, who was clearly in charge, had some sort of sash draped across his chest, under his blazer that signified his military accomplishments. Judging by the quality of his cufflinks, shoes, and tie, this man had enough money to pay someone to shave him while he slept.
Hound wanted to speak, but his voice betrayed him again, giving way to another fit of painful coughs.
“Save your breath,” the military man said.
He had a slight accent, but Hound still didn’t have all the earthly speaking habits memorized. The bald man sat in the chair opposite of the one that held his suit, and flashed Hound’s badge.
“You are probably looking for this,” he said, same accent.
Hound made a move but the man in charge spoke up, diffusing the tension.
“Before you ruin this, let me explain. I work for the LS, my name is General Tanner, this is my colleague Shade. You have been attacked by a man that should not exist. I took your badge because I suspect you will want to leave your job and come work for me, track this bastard down and help all of the Landed Species sleep better knowing a killer that no one can explain is behind bars.”
Hound struggled to think, and let his face show his confusion.
“Don’t think too much. You won’t remember a lot. Samson did a number on you, starting with a bit of brain damage resulting in memory loss.”
Hound barely remembered his partner, let alone the faces of any of the men, women, or aliens he worked with. He remembered Sam, and he could feel flashes of recollection, but nothing substantial. Nothing substantial outside of Sam.
“What do you say?” Tanner said, “Let’s catch this guy. You can trust me, Hound.”
Tanner put a hand on Hound’s arm and gave him a sincere, encouraging look.
Hound nodded, not flinching at what seemed to be his name now, no matter how offensive it was meant to be. His teeth still ached, but not nearly as bad. He would team up with shade, that seemed like a logical step to fill all the voids in Shade’s story, but no matter how much he repeated it Hound was never going to trust him.
