Federal Bureau of Mystical Creatures

Chapter 1: 'Welcome to reality'

By Chris Gilman

Eyes watch from the shadows as the people of the city go about their daily lives, golden eyes that seem to reach out and read the very souls of those who pass without noticing them. The owner of those eyes hides in the shadows, wrapping them around her like a protective cloak, hiding from the normal world in every way she can, but also unable to let it all go and leave it behind as others have. Looking at the ordinary people walking by she wonders how many of them have a clue what is really happening in the shadows around them. How many of them know that they live in a false world of safety that is only a thin veneer over the real world, a world maintained by those who thrive in the shadows?

A soft sigh escapes her lips as a puff of warm breath on the chilly night. She closes her eyes and thinks back, back to the days when she was just another college student, an ordinary girl, an ordinary human. But that was before she knew there was another world hidden under the surface she thought she knew so well. That was before she was changed, turned into something out of a fairytale, all to save her life. But did it save her life, or ruin it? She still can't decide.

Back then she was called Karlie, just another college student like any number of others all over the world. But then there came that one night, when her eyes were opened to the reality that was around her, when her whole world changed, and not for the better. That was the night a mark was placed upon her very soul.

* * *

She walks home from class, clinging to the amber glow of the streetlights to ward off the approaching darkness. 'I hate walking home alone, especially at night,' she thinks to herself, 'but it is the only way I can take the classes I need to finish my nursing degree this year. Besides, it's only a few blocks from the college. What could possibly go wrong?'

A shadow slips unseen from an alleyway she passes without a glance. There is the briefest sound of cloth and steel scrapping before she feels someone bowl into her while out of the darkness of another alleyway black clothed arms reach out to grab her. A pair of strong muscular arms encircles her from behind and drags her into the shadows. Screams rip themselves from her throat, but no one hears them, at least no one that cares about a stranger. People disappear all the time, and now it seems she is next, just another statistic lost in a big city.

A hand clamps a cloth over her face and she gasps for breath, smelling the familiar chemical stench. 'Chloroform!' her mind screams. Her mind fights for her to hold her breath, but it's already too late and she knows it as her limbs grow weak and her vision narrows. The last thing she remembers is a growling laughter and the feeling of being lifted like a doll over someone's shoulder as she passes from consciousness and into the peaceful blackness of oblivion.

When Karlie finally wakes she finds herself tied down and striped nude. Her green eyes dart around her surroundings, wide with fear, but they only find darkness outside the small pool of light that illuminates her and the cold stone altar she is tied spread eagle to. The air feels cold and damp in here, like she is in a cave or a basement. She gives a cautious tug at the ropes that restrain her and finds they are more than sufficient to resist her meager strength. Her voice cracks in fear as she calls out, "Help! Please help me!"

"Good," says a husky voice from the darkness beyond the circle of light, "Our sacrifice has awoken; now we can finally finish the rituals. Tonight our lord returns to this world he left so long ago."

A figure covered in a blood red robe steps into the light while keeping his face in the deep shadows of his hood. She starts to struggle against her bonds, twisting and jerking to try and find some slack in her bindings, still crying out for help. From the robed figure she hears a hissing laugh that seems unnatural, almost demonic. "It's no use crying for help my sweet little thing, but the more you struggle, the more our god will like it as we slit you open to allow him entrance to your mortal vessel so he may devour your eternal soul my tasty little tart."

She squeezes her eyes closed as tears roll down her cheeks. "Please... don't," she begs as he slowly comes closer. "Please don't hurt me."

Her eyes shoot open in shock as she feels the ice-cold sting of a metal knife slipping along the sensitive skin of her stomach till it presses against the underside of her breast to bounce it teasingly, the edge of the blade slipping up to play against her nipple. "But my dear sweet little thing, we can't stop now, we've waited for far too long, and you are the one who will bring us what we wish. You should really be pleased to know your body will be the vessel that our god will walk this plane in. It is quite an honor, but enough talk for now." He pulls the knife away and she closes her eyes thinking that he will leave her for now to think on what he has said, but she is wrong.

A cry of pain tears itself from her throat as the figure holding the knife starts to cut a design into her abdomen, just deep enough to draw blood without killing her yet. As she screams in pain the dark figure starts to chant in a weird lisping tongue, the words can only be heard and then forgotten. Her screams of agony seem almost to compliment his chanting, like he was playing an instrument instead of carving her like a piece of wood.

Out of the darkness another voice suddenly calls out and interrupts the chanting of the robed figure, "Chroman, we've got a problem! The FBMC is surrounding the lair! They've got a LAT closing in! We gotta get out of here before they breach the wards and seals!"

The robed figure looks up and past his crying victim into the darkness. "Then handle it you fool, I've started the ritual, nothing can be allowed to interfere. Not even those government lapdogs." He looks back down at the struggling girl, "And we can't run, it's too late for that. Once we started the ritual it must be completed, or our God will punish us for not doing as he ordered. It must be now," he hisses as he returns to his chanting, the knife's tip etching the last of the runes into the pentagram carved into her flesh.

"But it's..." The unseen speaker never gets a chance to finish his sentence as a loud explosion fills the room throwing another robed figure to crumple against the base of the altar. Several booming gunshots echo in the stone room as the speaker falls to the ground in an expanding blood-pool, minus his head that is now only a red mist of blood, bone, and gore.

The robed figure hisses and pulls a gun from the folds of his robe and fires off two quick shots. The ejected brass flies through the air to land on Karlie's bare breasts, the burning metal makes her scream again in shock and struggle against her bonds all the more, with a snap she feels one of the ropes finally come loose from where it had been scraping against the edge of the stone and she reaches to free her other hand.

"You're too late government lapdogs! She dies now and we will rule this pitiful world with the help of our God!" With a flash of light on steel she sees the robed figure plunge the knife towards her heart. Her eyes go wide in fear and mustering all her strength she gives a strong heave and twists at the last moment. Her sudden movements made possible by the snapped rope cause the knife to miss its lethal mark. Instead of burying itself in the center of her chest it slices deeply through the curve of her breast and into the flesh of her side, skipping along her ribs painfully before it lodges deep between two of her ribs.

The magic of the knife flares with a blaze of red light, striking to the core of her very soul as the magic fires along every nerve in her body, intensifying her pain ten-fold and tearing a scream out of her throat fiercer then anything she has ever let loose before. At that moment, she would rather die then endure another second of that agony as it tears at her eternal soul.

Since her eyes are closed tight from the pain she doesn't see what happens next, but she clearly hears the roar of an animal and gunshots ringing out over even her own screams of agony. The sound of a struggle ensues and soon all is quiet except for her screams of pain and the one sound that seems the loudest of them all. The sound of her own blood as it drips off the altar and onto the floor where it mingles with the other blood pools from the dead cultists.

A large gloved hand rests on her shoulder as her rescuer pulls the knife from her side with a painful tug then severs the rest of her bindings with the same weapon. "Get the healers in here now!" he calls out to someone, the sounds of retreating footsteps the only indication that his order is being followed.

"Yukeri, take your brother and make sure we don't have any more of these cultists left alive. We've got a victim here and we need to secure the area immediately." A grunt is followed by the sound of more feet striking the stone floor as people move to do as the authoritative voice instructs.

She pries open one eye to see her savior, and screams again when she sees a large leonine face looking down at her with a feral snarl and gleaming fangs. Before the large felinoid can stop her she slips off the blood-slicked altar and onto the blood-soaked stone floor with another cry of pain. Seeing the robed figure lying before her she screams again but this time in shock, not pain. The now uncovered face is like something out of a nightmare. The red skin covers a demonic face, yellowed fangs in the mouth that hangs open and slack, the solid black eyes staring blankly at nothing, totally lifeless thanks to the bullet hole between his black eyes.

The cat-man kneels next to her and tries to restrain her as she attempts to scrabble to her feet but is only able to kick weakly in the slick blood that coats the floor. "Calm down miss, I'm not going to hurt you." He says in a ruff but understandable voice with a hint of a feline purr in it as he tries to calm her down without much success. However her injuries start to wear her down where he cannot, the loss of blood starting to take its toll, as her struggles weaken.

He reaches for his radio and screams into it, "Where are the fucking healers for God's sake? We've got a wounded civilian in here who needs attention ASAP!"

"ETA ten minutes, sir. They're stuck in traffic and no emergency teleporters were available to send them to us," says the voice on the other end of the radio.

He looks down at her, the worry visible in his blue eyes. "She doesn't have that much time. Anyone on the team got any healing items, potions, wands, bandages, anything at all?"

"No sir, I already checked and we're all out... I'm sorry."

With a low growl of frustration he crushes the radio in his gloved hand, "What a time to not have a god damn team medic," Looking back down at her, his blue eyes convey he has made a decision he does not like. "I must know, do you want to live, no matter what?" he asks her in a soft voice as one hand strokes her blood caked hair away from her face.

Her voice weak from loss of blood and her throat raw from screaming she can only nod the tiniest bit as she feels herself starting to blackout, her schooling telling her there is no way she will be waking up this time.

"Then I'm sorry it has to be this way, I wish there was another way," he says as he gently tilts her head to the side with a large but gentle hand.

She finally loses her battle to remain conscious and faints into peaceful oblivion as she feels the large killing fangs of the feline close in to bite into her shoulder. 'I know it will be faster this way, and at least it will finally end the pain,' she thinks as she spirals away from the world of the living.

* * *

Karlie blinks from the bright sunlight coming through a window to warm her face, Her eyes darting around with frantic movements, she is unsure of what has happened or how she is still alive. Let alone how she came to be in this clean hospital room which smells like it's been disinfected a million times too often. "Can all those bad memories have just been a nightmare?" she asks herself. "Maybe a drug induced hallucination from something those thugs gave me?"

A rustle of paper to her right draws her attention and she turns her head father to see a large muscular man standing there in a pair of combat boots, black fatigue pants, and a tight gray sleeveless shirt. "Well Miss, I'm glad to see you've rejoined us in the land of the living." He slowly raises his head and his piercing blue eyes look into hers through the unruly mop of hair on his head. "You're recovering well from your ordeal."

"My ordeal?" she asks, her voice still weak and hoarse as if she really had been screaming in the worst agony imaginable. "What happened?"

He sighs as he pulls up a chair and sits next to her bed. "Miss Rolson, my name is Strell, I work for the Government, and I know this will be hard to understand but there is another world that exists in the shadows of the world you know. You've just been drawn into those shadows and sadly there is no way to return to the innocence of the light." His expressive blue eyes watch her as she continues to look around the room in confusion, "You were attacked by a cult who is basically trying to bring about the end of the world by summoning their God to take up residence here. For some reason they picked you to be their sacrifice, and we would like to know why."

She looks at him with obvious disbelief on her face, her voice and strength slowly returning to her, "You're mad, who are you, some crazy person are?" She looks around herself frantically, "Am I in some sort of mad house?" Her eyes snap back to him like a man dying of thirst to a glass of water, "That's it isn't it, I've gone mad and this is an asylum."

He shakes his head making his thick mane of dark hair whip around, "No ma'am, you're in the finest hospital in the country, probably the world for that matter. The doctors are like nothing you've ever visited at the hospitals of this city with skills and abilities you've never heard of."

She tries to get out of bed but he steps forward and restrains her with a gentle hand on her shoulder, "Don't try to get up yet, you're still recovering from the changes, not to mention the wounds. You're too weak still if I can so easily hold you down without help."

She looks at him with a wide-eyed look of fear, like a deer caught in the headlights of a speeding car, "What changes? What wounds? What have you done to me?" she shrieks at him as a hint of panic starts to creep into her voice.

He sighs and releases her shoulder before he stands straight and the muscles all over his body tense. "Don't be afraid of what I'm about to show you. It's natural for those like us, you should try to get used to it." Throwing back his head and crying out in pain he starts to do something impossible, he starts to change before her eyes.

He starts growing larger; his muscles bulking up all over his body as his legs change shape till they resembled the legs of an animal and his boots just seem to disappear into nothingness. A thick tan fur sprouts to cover his entire body as his face slowly contorts into the visage of a lion, a muzzle poking forth and his teeth elongating into sharp killing fangs. His thick black hair grows even thicker until it turns into a full glossy black leonine mane that hangs down his back and chest. When he finally stops changing he lowers his gaze from the ceiling and looks at her with those same piercing blue eyes, those eyes that had looked at her with pity as those jaws had clamped down on her shoulder.

She remembers the pain of those fangs piercing her skin. She remembers the conflicting terror and peace, as she knew she was dying. She screams as the large lion-man stands there looking down at her with a worried and concerned gaze. His ears flatten against his head at her piercing scream and his worried gaze turns into a grimace of discomfort at the volume.

When her voice goes horse again he calmly looks down at her and sees she's curled herself into a fetal position on the bed and is trembling like a freezing newborn cub, her face covered by her hands. "There is nothing for you to fear from me Miss Rolson."

She remains curled on the bed and stares at the large creature through her fingers as she holds her knees to her chest and trembles. "W... What is all this? Who are you?" She asks in a weak voice as tears roll down her cheeks. "What are you?"

"I'm a member of the Federal Bureau of Mystical Creatures. And as far as the normal world is considered none of us exist. We are nothing but fairytales and old legends. Legends that are often wrong in so many ways, but do often have a hint of truth to them. Those who have caught glimpses of us are quickly ridiculed and no one believes them." He reaches out to touch her with his massive furred hand, but her attempts to scoot away from his reach forces him to stop mid-motion before she scoots off the bed.

"Even though most people of the world don't know we exist, we are the ones who guard the shadows and keep them from intruding on the rest of the world." His deep blue eyes seem to look into her soul, "And now, you are one of us Miss Rolson."

She continues to lie there in shock, her eyes wide as she fails to take in all the revelations of the day, "W... What are you talking about? I'm nothing like you. I'm a human, not some delusional maniac who's got me so hopped up on drugs that I'm seeing things that can't be real."

He sighs and closes his eyes before he starts to slowly change back into a human and sits down in the chair next to her bed. "I'm sorry but there was no other way to save you. Our healers were taking too long to arrive and we had no other means of healing available. Only the natural regeneration abilities of a Lycanthrope could save you, and even that was a risk, you were lucky the lycanthropy acted quickly enough to save your life and that you didn't have an adverse reaction to the spread."

"You... You bit me?" She looks away from him and closes her eyes as she remembers, "I felt your fangs kill me..." She reaches up, her fingers brushing the spot on her shoulder, pushing the hospital gown from her shoulder to show the fresh scars from his fangs. Suddenly she snaps her head around and glares at him with a new fire in her eyes as instincts seem to kick into gear and she roars at him, "I should be DEAD!!!"

He nods and lowers his gaze, "Yes, I'm sorry that I did this to you, but it was the only way I could think of to save you and you said you wanted to live. My superiors are still not happy with me over it, but I wasn't about to let you die because of the actions of those demons. Letting you die for their evil was not right, no matter what the regulations say."

He sighs as he sits there and looks at the floor while she watches him with wild, pleading, eyes, "I... I want to go home..."

He slowly shakes his head, "I'm sorry but you can't. The Bureau will provide you with new living arrangements in one of our secluded safe areas as well as allow you to purchase such goods as you require. We're well taken care of since we are in many ways the front line of defense against the darkness that threatens us all. The pay is great, the medical coverage is excellent, and you still get to mingle with the rest of humanity from time to time."

"What do you mean?" she asks as her voice gets louder again. "I told you I'm not a part of your delusional fairy world! Soon as I can talk to a normal person here I'm going home. I'm not crazy!"

He looks up at her with those same deep blue eyes that seem to read her soul, "You no longer belong to the world you knew as I've explained to you. There is no going home, and I'm as sane as anyone else here." He sits up in the chair as he brushes a stray lock of hair out of his eyes before he continues, "I've been ordered to take you into my unit and teach you what you'll need to learn in your new life. We've needed a medic, so you'll be trained in that role since you've been studying in that field anyway, it won't be much of a change for you."

"You're unit!" she roars at him. "Do I look like some kind of fighter? I am a college student, not a freak like you!"

He picks up a mirror from the nightstand and holds it up to her, his quiet voice saying, "Look at yourself, and then tell me that you can't be one of us."

She looks at the mirror in shock. Without conscious effort she had changed when the shock had triggered her natural response to danger. Her new instincts had taken over on a deep, inner level, her human visage was not in the mirror. In its place is a leonine one with her same hair, but her eyes have changed, gone is the deep green she is used to, now they are a golden yellow. She stares at her reflection, slack jawed, before bringing her hands up to tentatively touch her face and confirm it is hers. Seeing her arms come into her view she finds that they are also covered in the tawny fur that covers her face. She looks at her hands and sees the tiny points of claws poking out from the tips of her fingers. Looking at her chest she sees that she has also grown somewhat, the hospital gown that had been too big for her is now stretched tight across her chest and is far too short to do more then cover the very top of her rear.

"What am I?" she asks with a quiet voice, the things he's been telling her finally sinking in. She reaches back and pulls her tail around to stare at it in shock, "I have a tail..." She looks up at him, tears starting to streak her furred cheeks, "Why?"

He puts a gentle and comforting hand on her shoulder, "I told you already. You are like me, a were-lion. When in hybrid form, like you are now, you are faster, stronger than any mortal, and you heal quickly from anything except silver, magic, or the fangs and claws of another were-creature. You'll find your vision more sharp and your sense of smell able to track your prey, be it human, animal, or any other mystical creature. And even though you can shift back to your human form, you don't belong to that sheltered life anymore. You'll find you only wear the human skin to blend in among the mortals. You are now under the protection of the FBMC. Because I made you one of us, that makes you my thrall, I have been ordered to look after you and teach you the ways of our race. Since you'll be with me so much, the higher ups decided that the best way is to employ you as an enforcer on my team."

"Enforcer?" she asks cautiously.

"We try to keep those who would turn this world into a living hell from succeeding. And we protect those who have no clue what goes on in the shadows." He gives her shoulder a comforting grip, "There is a world beyond what you're used to. And I'll introduce it to you one step at a time."

She trembles under his hand, her yellow eyes looking up into his eyes of blue, "When?"

He gives her a reassuring smile, "Soon as the doctors say you're ready to be released. But they'll probably want to keep you here for a few days at least while we get your new apartment ready."

She holds up one shaking hand and stares at the fur still covering it, "How do I change back? I don't want fur... I want to look normal. I want to pretend at least that I'm still human even if I'm not."

He gently pets her shoulder, "Close your eyes and calm down for a starter."

She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes as she releases it and starts to calm herself.

"That's it, slow your heartbeat and breathe slowly. Now look inside yourself and think of how you should look. Think of walking like a human, no fur, no claws, no tail or fangs."

Keeping her eyes closed she does as he says while trying to remain calm.

"Now the next part is the hardest..." he takes a calming breath himself as he tries to talk her through it, "You have to will yourself to change. You have to force the magic that flows through your veins to do your bidding. Though the moon and stars can have some power over you, only you have the strength to use your magic fully."

She feels a tingling all over her body as she feels an un-named force take control and work its power on her. With a soft sigh she falls back against the bed and raises one weak arm to see that she has returned to her human form.

"Thank you," she says in the barest of whispers before she closes her eyes and drifts off to sleep from complete exhaustion.

* * *

Opening her eyes she once more looks out on the city, her enhanced vision letting her see in the darkness of the night as if it were still day. "Still getting used to all this aren't you Kar?" asks the large were-lion kneeling next to her.

She snaps her eyes around to him, "You mean being an outcast in my own world? Yes, I am."

He shrugs, "You're still a part of it, only now you know the truth and can help us watch over those who are blissfully unaware of the dangers we fight off every day."

She grunts quietly, "I wish I was still one of those who are blissfully unaware."

Strell nods as he idly scratches an itch behind his ear, "There are many people in this world who wish they were still as unaware. But they all know there is no other way. If we all gave in, there wouldn't be anyplace safe from the forces we keep at bay."

She sighs and gives a slow nod of agreement, "I know, but reality can really suck sometimes."

---

All characters unless otherwise stated are the property of Christopher Gilman.

Story © Copyright Christopher Gilman 2007 all rights reserved mail me and tell me what you think at goliath_cpg[at]yahoo.com