Warbound Ground Zero 1/8 part B
Authour: banditobane
rating: R
beta reader: pen 37
summery: Five stangers are brought together by fate to end a war that would distroy humanity.
Characters: From SN Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer, From SV Chloe Sullivan, From HL Duncan Macleod, From TC Robert Cross AKA The Crow, Original characters Professor Albert Townson, Detective Adam Staplebeck, Lt. Jeff Duccat
disclamer: I don't any of these characters I just did it for fun, Please don't sue.
A/N: Babdah is the raven god of death in Celtic lore.
Dean makes a refrence of John Carpenter's 'They Live' because of his love for cult horror movies.
pen told me to add some Buffy refrences for Chloe but I do not know crap about Buffy, I just never got into it.
Okay so it has been awhile since I posted the prolauges. I've Just been really busy with a lot of things and I wanted to make sure it was perfect so I hope you guys like it. And this is only the begining
That guy looked familiar, Chloe thought to herself as she walked into the café and straight to the table in the back. In the seat facing the door sat a slightly overweight, balding man in a suit that looked like it was made by a colorblind tailor.
“Detective Staplebeck,” Chloe said to him, “How are you this morning?”
“What is it now Sullivan?” the older man sighed.
Detective Adam Staplebeck was one of the homicide detectives working the bizarre string of events that have been happening for the last couple months. Adding to the list was the new serial killer and this only frustrated the old detective more.
“Looks like you’re in a good mood.” Chloe said sarcastically as she took a seat across from him. “I take it that this new serial killer is getting under your skin.”
“In more ways than one.” Huffed Staplebeck. “So why are you here now?”
“I’ve just came to see how the case is going. that’s all.”
“And dig up things that we don’t know yet so you can put on the front page.” He replied angrily. “I told when you first got here Sullivan. The only reason I’m letting you hang around is because: One, your friends in the CSI vouched for you. And two, you have more experience with crazy crap then anyone in the force.
“But you do not go into a crime scene with police supervision, interview any witnesses without our consent or try and pull a fast one over our heads. You follow the rules and you’re the first to get the story. But if you cross the line on this case Sullivan I’ll have your ass rotting in a jail cell next to the winos and druggies, am I clear?”
“Christo detective.” Chloe smirked.
“What?” Staplebeck said confused.
“Never mind.”
Adam Staplebeck is what you would call an old school cop. He always went by the book. But he would only bend the rules when cases need to be solved at any cost. He wasn’t afraid to cross that line, which was his wife had left him and he went through more partners then a whore on her best day. But now he had to deal with a spunky little reporter from Kansas.
In all his years on the force Staplebeck had never met a reporter like Chloe Sullivan. Though she was helpful in this case, her tenacity was just annoying to the extant that he wanted to get her out to Kansas, never return to Pittsburgh. But even though he hated to admit it, she was good at her job. In the time she’d been in Pittsburgh, she’d found leads and suggested avenues of inquiry that the detectives working the case hadn’t come up with yet. This was why he needed her to help solve this case.
“So what did you dig up on that cult of psychopaths?” He asked as he downed the rest of his coffee.
“Well, I didn’t glean anything new from looking over the reports you’ve given me.” She looked at Staplebeck with one of her causal smirks. “The autopsy reports on the recent batch of victims were quite interesting.”
Staplebeck cursed under his breath. “And how did you get those?”
“Girl’s got keep her secrets.” Chloe told him with a wink as she pulled out reports. “Very creative, this new guy.”
“Not creative, sick.” Staplebeck corrected. “He handcuffed people to a banister while he bled them to death and then turned a guy into pin cushion with his own knife collection. And the only lead we got is that little calling card he left behind and that he paints his face like some kind of mime.”
“Actually it’s an opera mask and I think I have a lead on our Joker wannabe.” Chloe told Staplebeck as she ordered a coffee and Staplebeck signaled for a refill. “Ever heard the rumors of a vigilante that called himself The Crow?”
Staplebeck nodded. “Yes I’ve heard of him. Vigilante extremist kills criminals with no remorse. Hunts and takes them out one by one.”
“So you have heard of him?” Chloe asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Before I came to Pittsburgh, I was beat cop in Detroit during the early 90’s. And I’ve known it was either The Crow or a copycat posing as The Crow since that first murder had one of his little calling cards.”
“And you haven’t followed up on this, why?”
“Duccat.” Staplebeck mumbled.
“Who?” Chloe asked.
“Lieutenant Jeffrey Duccat, the head of the investigation and a grade A asshole.” Staplebeck said bitterly.
“I take it you told him your theory and he shot it down?”
“This is what the pompous jerk said and in his exact words: It just doesn’t add up: One, The Crow, was first seen in 1992 in Detroit, and he was described as guy in his mid to late twenties. If it is the original he would be pushing towards forty. And two, the people he’s targeting just don’t make sense: Two real estate brokers and a college professor, The Crow’s MO is to only go after criminals.” When Staplebeck finished he slammed his fist on the table shaking the mugs.
“That cocky jerk just pisses me off.” Staplebeck calmed himself down. “Sullivan I need you take a look at this file.”
Staplebeck slid a large manila folder to Chloe. The word ‘CROW’ was written across the top.
“That file holds all the activity that The Crow, or copycats calling themselves The Crow, had been involved in over the last decade and a half and the cities and towns he was at. In Detroit he took out a street gang called the Motor City Mother Fuckers, in LA it was some fucked up crime syndicate led by a sick SOB named Judah Earl, in Salt Lake City it was an entire police precinct of crooked cops, and finally the incident in a small town in New Mexico where he wiped out an entire Satanic Worshipping cult in one night.
“I’m pretty sure it’s a copycat. Mostly because he’s got it all wrong.” Staplebeck said. “The Crow’s MO is to go after scumbags.”
“And you believe these people were upstanding citizens?” Chloe asked sarcastically
“What’re you getting at Sullivan?” The old detective asked over his coffee mug,
“I looked into the lives of these so-called model citizens and dug up a little dirt them.
“Did you know that Marcus and Holly Stuart were on the verge of bankruptcy until only a couple months ago? And that Professor Townson was about to terminated from his teaching position around the same time the Stuarts were in their own little crisis?
“I find it coincidental that during the same month they manage to turn their lives around.
“Also in autopsy reports of the previous victims showed that they all had distinct tattoos on their forearms.” Chloe said as she showed the detective the pictures. “And I’m willing to bet this years salary that our friends from last night had some ink done as well.”
“I’ve seen them, it looks just like what those sick bastards had been writing on the walls. I thought there was some type of connection. But Duccat said it was just a coincidence.”
“These,” she said as she pointed at the photos. “Are markings of worship to different gods.
“This one is of the Greek war god Aries, this other one is Virotutis the Celtic sun god.”
Staplebeck rose as eyebrows. “Why would they want to put those on their bodies?”
“Back in the days when men wore skirts, followers of these gods would mark their bodies with the names of their patron deity as sign of faith.”
“So are you saying these people were part of that crazy cult?”
“Yep.” Chloe smirked. “And look at what I found in the good professor’s office.”
Chloe pulled out an envelope from her bag. The letter was addressed to Townson from The Apollo foundation.
“You know this is tampering with evidence right?” Staplebeck said.
“Just read the note.” Chloe told him.
With a huff of defeat Staplebeck picked up the note and began to read.
Townson,
He has accepted your offering and will reward you in due time. Serve him faithfully and your bounty will be endless.
“What’s this mean?” Staplebeck asked puzzled,
“I think that this is exactly The Crow’s MO. His pattern of killing criminals is always taking out the foot soldiers first before moving his way to the big bad.” She said proudly with a smirk on her lips. “We just need find out who rewarded Townson and then we can kill two birds with one stone. One them happens to have black feathers and taste for corn.”
“I’m getting too old for this.” Staplebeck sighed. “I hate to have trust you, but with Duccat blocking my investigation, I haven’t got a choice. I want to get a killer off the streets, and working with you is my best bet to find him.”
In the dense Allegheny forest of Pennsylvania Duncan was retracing his footsteps from over two hundred years of absence. After an exhaustive search, he had finally located the old hidden trails that he and the hunters had used back in 1762.
He was thankful that over the years no urban development had taken place that would release Romulus and Remus from the tombs.
As he approached a clearing he found a landmark that told him he was going the right direction three graves marked by withered crucifixes. This was the final resting place of three of the hunters had traveled with. Will Finn, a young Creole from Louisiana, Thomas Grant, a half breed Indian from the Iroquois tribe, and Pierre Barton, a deserter of the French Army. These men were outcasts who found comfort with the company of fellow hunters, those who would sacrifice their lives for the people who hated them. These men had died trying to capture the beastly twins.
Duncan didn’t dwell in the past for too long. Leaving with a silent prayer for long gone friends, he continued hiking deeper into the forest.
The trees had grown closer together, the branches above hid the sun from his sight, and the ground was blanketed with twigs and pine needles. His heavy soled boots were making minor impressions in the ground.
He walked a little longer until he noticed that people had crossed this path before. The hardly noticeable footprints and the broken twigs were all telltale signs that an experienced tracker like him would notice immediately. He bent down and studied the ground trying to absorb every detail the he could see.
Judging by the signs he found: Eight sets of footprints walked single file to north. This must have been the Immortals that had gone missing.
Duncan hurried as fast he could to the tombs hoping against hope that they were not opened yet.
When he arrived at the entrance of the cave, he went in without a second thought. Then he took out a flashlight and began his descent towards the prison of the two monsters.
Deeper in the cave, Duncan found a blood stained ledger on the ground. He picked it up and read the title: Robin Thetcher Chronicles. This was one of the AWOL Immortals that The Watchers had been keeping an eye on. He opened it and began to read the final passages of the chronicle.
June 8
Thetcher and the others killed Gabriel and Nick last night. Linda and I are all that remains of the original sixteen. They told me that they had special plans for us. I have yet to know their true purpose. But with the little time we have left I doubt I will find out. We were sent to this area by the Watchers council to see if we could find out why Thetcher and the other immortals had gathered here. Our first assumption was that they were here to take heads but instead we found that they had been participating in pagan rituals and were bowing to creatures that looked completely human but are not. At first we had believed them to be other Immortals that we had no records of. But we were wrong. They displayed terrible powers that no one should have and ravenous apatite for human organs. There is talk between them that there will be a war between them, demons and those who are cursed. This is the last entry I make. Let whoever finds this go warn the Watchers that the apocalypse will soon be upon us.
Duncan put the ledger in to his pocket and went deeper to where the tombs were.
He stopped in shock as he came in sight of the tombs. “Oh no,” he breathed in dismay at the sight that greeted him.
The boulders that were used to trap Romulus and Remus were destroyed. If the scorch pattern around the entrance were any indication, he figured that the perpetrators had used explosives. Heedless of any lingering danger, Duncan pulled out his katana and rushed into one of the two chambers that had served as a prison, hoping to find the carcass of the monster that had held it for so long. To his further dismay, he found it empty.
There had been signs of a small skirmish between the twins and the ones who had released them. Dried blood had stained the rock wall. Duncan stared harder at the dried blood, and guessed that it was about three days old. Signs in the dirt showed him that the one who had freed Romulus and Remus had also had succeeded in capturing them. But drag marks made in the soft dirt gave Duncan an indication of just whose blood was on the wall. Apparently the ones who had come down here with the intent of taking the werewolf and vampire had suffered losses of their own.
Duncan’s worst fear had been realized: he was too late. Romulus and Remus were free and heaven help those who had taken them.
As he left the cave with a heavy heart, Duncan heard a caw from one of the nearby trees. He looked up and saw a crow looking back at him. There was a disconcerting intelligence lurking in the bird’s eyes. As if it was trying to tell him something. Then it spread it’s wings and flew off into the forest.
With a shake of his head, Duncan dismissed the creature. He turned, and began his long trek back to where he had parked his car. He knew he had to get back to Pittsburgh and try to find the twin monstrosities before they escaped their captors and continued their duel to the death as they had over three hundred years ago.
rating: R
beta reader: pen 37
summery: Five stangers are brought together by fate to end a war that would distroy humanity.
Characters: From SN Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer, From SV Chloe Sullivan, From HL Duncan Macleod, From TC Robert Cross AKA The Crow, Original characters Professor Albert Townson, Detective Adam Staplebeck, Lt. Jeff Duccat
disclamer: I don't any of these characters I just did it for fun, Please don't sue.
A/N: Babdah is the raven god of death in Celtic lore.
Dean makes a refrence of John Carpenter's 'They Live' because of his love for cult horror movies.
pen told me to add some Buffy refrences for Chloe but I do not know crap about Buffy, I just never got into it.
Okay so it has been awhile since I posted the prolauges. I've Just been really busy with a lot of things and I wanted to make sure it was perfect so I hope you guys like it. And this is only the begining
That guy looked familiar, Chloe thought to herself as she walked into the café and straight to the table in the back. In the seat facing the door sat a slightly overweight, balding man in a suit that looked like it was made by a colorblind tailor.
“Detective Staplebeck,” Chloe said to him, “How are you this morning?”
“What is it now Sullivan?” the older man sighed.
Detective Adam Staplebeck was one of the homicide detectives working the bizarre string of events that have been happening for the last couple months. Adding to the list was the new serial killer and this only frustrated the old detective more.
“Looks like you’re in a good mood.” Chloe said sarcastically as she took a seat across from him. “I take it that this new serial killer is getting under your skin.”
“In more ways than one.” Huffed Staplebeck. “So why are you here now?”
“I’ve just came to see how the case is going. that’s all.”
“And dig up things that we don’t know yet so you can put on the front page.” He replied angrily. “I told when you first got here Sullivan. The only reason I’m letting you hang around is because: One, your friends in the CSI vouched for you. And two, you have more experience with crazy crap then anyone in the force.
“But you do not go into a crime scene with police supervision, interview any witnesses without our consent or try and pull a fast one over our heads. You follow the rules and you’re the first to get the story. But if you cross the line on this case Sullivan I’ll have your ass rotting in a jail cell next to the winos and druggies, am I clear?”
“Christo detective.” Chloe smirked.
“What?” Staplebeck said confused.
“Never mind.”
Adam Staplebeck is what you would call an old school cop. He always went by the book. But he would only bend the rules when cases need to be solved at any cost. He wasn’t afraid to cross that line, which was his wife had left him and he went through more partners then a whore on her best day. But now he had to deal with a spunky little reporter from Kansas.
In all his years on the force Staplebeck had never met a reporter like Chloe Sullivan. Though she was helpful in this case, her tenacity was just annoying to the extant that he wanted to get her out to Kansas, never return to Pittsburgh. But even though he hated to admit it, she was good at her job. In the time she’d been in Pittsburgh, she’d found leads and suggested avenues of inquiry that the detectives working the case hadn’t come up with yet. This was why he needed her to help solve this case.
“So what did you dig up on that cult of psychopaths?” He asked as he downed the rest of his coffee.
“Well, I didn’t glean anything new from looking over the reports you’ve given me.” She looked at Staplebeck with one of her causal smirks. “The autopsy reports on the recent batch of victims were quite interesting.”
Staplebeck cursed under his breath. “And how did you get those?”
“Girl’s got keep her secrets.” Chloe told him with a wink as she pulled out reports. “Very creative, this new guy.”
“Not creative, sick.” Staplebeck corrected. “He handcuffed people to a banister while he bled them to death and then turned a guy into pin cushion with his own knife collection. And the only lead we got is that little calling card he left behind and that he paints his face like some kind of mime.”
“Actually it’s an opera mask and I think I have a lead on our Joker wannabe.” Chloe told Staplebeck as she ordered a coffee and Staplebeck signaled for a refill. “Ever heard the rumors of a vigilante that called himself The Crow?”
Staplebeck nodded. “Yes I’ve heard of him. Vigilante extremist kills criminals with no remorse. Hunts and takes them out one by one.”
“So you have heard of him?” Chloe asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Before I came to Pittsburgh, I was beat cop in Detroit during the early 90’s. And I’ve known it was either The Crow or a copycat posing as The Crow since that first murder had one of his little calling cards.”
“And you haven’t followed up on this, why?”
“Duccat.” Staplebeck mumbled.
“Who?” Chloe asked.
“Lieutenant Jeffrey Duccat, the head of the investigation and a grade A asshole.” Staplebeck said bitterly.
“I take it you told him your theory and he shot it down?”
“This is what the pompous jerk said and in his exact words: It just doesn’t add up: One, The Crow, was first seen in 1992 in Detroit, and he was described as guy in his mid to late twenties. If it is the original he would be pushing towards forty. And two, the people he’s targeting just don’t make sense: Two real estate brokers and a college professor, The Crow’s MO is to only go after criminals.” When Staplebeck finished he slammed his fist on the table shaking the mugs.
“That cocky jerk just pisses me off.” Staplebeck calmed himself down. “Sullivan I need you take a look at this file.”
Staplebeck slid a large manila folder to Chloe. The word ‘CROW’ was written across the top.
“That file holds all the activity that The Crow, or copycats calling themselves The Crow, had been involved in over the last decade and a half and the cities and towns he was at. In Detroit he took out a street gang called the Motor City Mother Fuckers, in LA it was some fucked up crime syndicate led by a sick SOB named Judah Earl, in Salt Lake City it was an entire police precinct of crooked cops, and finally the incident in a small town in New Mexico where he wiped out an entire Satanic Worshipping cult in one night.
“I’m pretty sure it’s a copycat. Mostly because he’s got it all wrong.” Staplebeck said. “The Crow’s MO is to go after scumbags.”
“And you believe these people were upstanding citizens?” Chloe asked sarcastically
“What’re you getting at Sullivan?” The old detective asked over his coffee mug,
“I looked into the lives of these so-called model citizens and dug up a little dirt them.
“Did you know that Marcus and Holly Stuart were on the verge of bankruptcy until only a couple months ago? And that Professor Townson was about to terminated from his teaching position around the same time the Stuarts were in their own little crisis?
“I find it coincidental that during the same month they manage to turn their lives around.
“Also in autopsy reports of the previous victims showed that they all had distinct tattoos on their forearms.” Chloe said as she showed the detective the pictures. “And I’m willing to bet this years salary that our friends from last night had some ink done as well.”
“I’ve seen them, it looks just like what those sick bastards had been writing on the walls. I thought there was some type of connection. But Duccat said it was just a coincidence.”
“These,” she said as she pointed at the photos. “Are markings of worship to different gods.
“This one is of the Greek war god Aries, this other one is Virotutis the Celtic sun god.”
Staplebeck rose as eyebrows. “Why would they want to put those on their bodies?”
“Back in the days when men wore skirts, followers of these gods would mark their bodies with the names of their patron deity as sign of faith.”
“So are you saying these people were part of that crazy cult?”
“Yep.” Chloe smirked. “And look at what I found in the good professor’s office.”
Chloe pulled out an envelope from her bag. The letter was addressed to Townson from The Apollo foundation.
“You know this is tampering with evidence right?” Staplebeck said.
“Just read the note.” Chloe told him.
With a huff of defeat Staplebeck picked up the note and began to read.
Townson,
He has accepted your offering and will reward you in due time. Serve him faithfully and your bounty will be endless.
“What’s this mean?” Staplebeck asked puzzled,
“I think that this is exactly The Crow’s MO. His pattern of killing criminals is always taking out the foot soldiers first before moving his way to the big bad.” She said proudly with a smirk on her lips. “We just need find out who rewarded Townson and then we can kill two birds with one stone. One them happens to have black feathers and taste for corn.”
“I’m getting too old for this.” Staplebeck sighed. “I hate to have trust you, but with Duccat blocking my investigation, I haven’t got a choice. I want to get a killer off the streets, and working with you is my best bet to find him.”
In the dense Allegheny forest of Pennsylvania Duncan was retracing his footsteps from over two hundred years of absence. After an exhaustive search, he had finally located the old hidden trails that he and the hunters had used back in 1762.
He was thankful that over the years no urban development had taken place that would release Romulus and Remus from the tombs.
As he approached a clearing he found a landmark that told him he was going the right direction three graves marked by withered crucifixes. This was the final resting place of three of the hunters had traveled with. Will Finn, a young Creole from Louisiana, Thomas Grant, a half breed Indian from the Iroquois tribe, and Pierre Barton, a deserter of the French Army. These men were outcasts who found comfort with the company of fellow hunters, those who would sacrifice their lives for the people who hated them. These men had died trying to capture the beastly twins.
Duncan didn’t dwell in the past for too long. Leaving with a silent prayer for long gone friends, he continued hiking deeper into the forest.
The trees had grown closer together, the branches above hid the sun from his sight, and the ground was blanketed with twigs and pine needles. His heavy soled boots were making minor impressions in the ground.
He walked a little longer until he noticed that people had crossed this path before. The hardly noticeable footprints and the broken twigs were all telltale signs that an experienced tracker like him would notice immediately. He bent down and studied the ground trying to absorb every detail the he could see.
Judging by the signs he found: Eight sets of footprints walked single file to north. This must have been the Immortals that had gone missing.
Duncan hurried as fast he could to the tombs hoping against hope that they were not opened yet.
When he arrived at the entrance of the cave, he went in without a second thought. Then he took out a flashlight and began his descent towards the prison of the two monsters.
Deeper in the cave, Duncan found a blood stained ledger on the ground. He picked it up and read the title: Robin Thetcher Chronicles. This was one of the AWOL Immortals that The Watchers had been keeping an eye on. He opened it and began to read the final passages of the chronicle.
June 8
Thetcher and the others killed Gabriel and Nick last night. Linda and I are all that remains of the original sixteen. They told me that they had special plans for us. I have yet to know their true purpose. But with the little time we have left I doubt I will find out. We were sent to this area by the Watchers council to see if we could find out why Thetcher and the other immortals had gathered here. Our first assumption was that they were here to take heads but instead we found that they had been participating in pagan rituals and were bowing to creatures that looked completely human but are not. At first we had believed them to be other Immortals that we had no records of. But we were wrong. They displayed terrible powers that no one should have and ravenous apatite for human organs. There is talk between them that there will be a war between them, demons and those who are cursed. This is the last entry I make. Let whoever finds this go warn the Watchers that the apocalypse will soon be upon us.
Duncan put the ledger in to his pocket and went deeper to where the tombs were.
He stopped in shock as he came in sight of the tombs. “Oh no,” he breathed in dismay at the sight that greeted him.
The boulders that were used to trap Romulus and Remus were destroyed. If the scorch pattern around the entrance were any indication, he figured that the perpetrators had used explosives. Heedless of any lingering danger, Duncan pulled out his katana and rushed into one of the two chambers that had served as a prison, hoping to find the carcass of the monster that had held it for so long. To his further dismay, he found it empty.
There had been signs of a small skirmish between the twins and the ones who had released them. Dried blood had stained the rock wall. Duncan stared harder at the dried blood, and guessed that it was about three days old. Signs in the dirt showed him that the one who had freed Romulus and Remus had also had succeeded in capturing them. But drag marks made in the soft dirt gave Duncan an indication of just whose blood was on the wall. Apparently the ones who had come down here with the intent of taking the werewolf and vampire had suffered losses of their own.
Duncan’s worst fear had been realized: he was too late. Romulus and Remus were free and heaven help those who had taken them.
As he left the cave with a heavy heart, Duncan heard a caw from one of the nearby trees. He looked up and saw a crow looking back at him. There was a disconcerting intelligence lurking in the bird’s eyes. As if it was trying to tell him something. Then it spread it’s wings and flew off into the forest.
With a shake of his head, Duncan dismissed the creature. He turned, and began his long trek back to where he had parked his car. He knew he had to get back to Pittsburgh and try to find the twin monstrosities before they escaped their captors and continued their duel to the death as they had over three hundred years ago.