The Animal

Aly rolled her eyes.

"I worked my ass off to get to Quantico. I like working for the FBI--though you're right about the clothes, but there are ways around that. Of course of late they have been a pain in my ass. There was this case...I would still be working on it except some higher up thought I was too connected to it and sent me on this particular witch hunt--didn't think it would be a real one though."

She flew through the lights around town and exited onto the main road. A police cruiser pulled in behind her, noticed her federal plates and veered off.

Allison pressed the gas down once on the straight interstate. The FBI sedan soon coasted at over 100 miles per hour. She weaved through the sparse traffic keeping tabs on the exit signs as she went.

"If the FBI won't help me with my case, you guys will--it's looking more and more your specialty anyway. I don't care who helps me, as long as the bastards pay for what they did to h...those girls."

Her hands gripped the steering wheel.

"Sorry--just a bit flustered right now."

Rome looked dejectedly out the passenger window, his enthusiasm for the high speed worn off with the intensity of his worry. She slipped her hand off the wheel and squeezed his good shoulder.

"For what it's worth--I' lost my sister--I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy, which two hours ago was you. We'll get there in time--I promise." She pushed the car to near 150 to emphasize.

“I didn’t say it is easy to become a FBI agent, I just meant it is um never mind.”

Elenna felt the car speeding down the roads with that she felt the rush of adrenaline through her body and something else.

She lost her sister? Whoa you know how fast you are driving, not that I mind but keep your hands at the wheel!

Lenna started to feel that this whole hunt is too big for them; they maybe should have never come to Gallup. First Raws is worried about Rome, now it is the other way around.

What if we… NO that won’t happen Rome, we will get Raws back, kill the walker, get in the cars and drive as far away as possible. Everything gonna be okay.

“It has to be.” Mumbled Lenna.

What was she talk... Oh, yeah. That thing you lied to her about, saying you knew what it was and could help her exactly. Uh. Better not clear that up, just yet.

It wasn't that Rome didn't want to help her, or wouldn't help her. He had just...well, it had been a bad situation, and lying was more often than not his first response to trouble like that. Time to clear that up later. Or, you know, do some research on the sly and never admit that he had lied in the first place. Yeah. That sounded good.

A large weight settled deep in Rome's gut, one that physically ached from worry. Or from indigestion, possibly, or whatever this Corpse Powder crap was doing to him now. Luckily, adrenaline--the kind fueled along by the unadulterated terror that his brother was currently dying and that he couldn't save him--helped push him into the "Functioning" range of feeling like crap, instead of the embarrassing "Fainting Like a Girl" area he had been in earlier.

And now Allison was driving it home, talking about losing a sister, and he really felt like a huge dick for lying to her. Maybe...the two were related? And that was why she took this case so personally?

Yeah. Major dick. Why was it that everyone around him had lost siblings? It made part of him feel guilty that he still had Rawson, but then another part of him literally would not know how to go on if Raws died on him. That would be worse than dying. He'd... He did not even want to go there. Not now, not ever. And, no, he wasn't going to feel guilty about it.

But he could understand. He could sympathize. He could gather that that was something that could change you, that could define you, that you could base your entire life on. On family. On brothers and sisters, and their absence or possibly impending absence. It was what made you human. It was worth everything.

"Thanks, Aly," he said quietly, realizing he had waxed philosophical for a good minute there and that it must be stopped. He glanced in the back seat: "And she's right, Lennie. We'll get Raws back, don't you worry."

I feel sick; I never got car sick before ever.

Lenna looked at Rome and tried to smile her special Lenna-smile, but she wasn't sure that it worked. “Of course we do that is what we always do, right? I am not worried I know everything gonna be fine.”

Don’t let him see that I am lying; I hope everything will be fine but right now it doesn’t look so good. Don’t get me wrong I want him back and that you will feel better, but…

“I know I don’t have to worry.”

Lenna tried to hide behind her book, she tried to hide that she was more than worried she was scared. Scared not knowing how to help in this fight and not be the in the way of the others.

"Deer hunters, pheasant hunters, Black Dog Hunters, Vampire Hunters, Werewolf Hunters, Manhunters. I'm not fussy with who I kill, eat and harvest," the Skin Walker replied calmly, though Rawson's voice itself was beginning to grate on him, "They won't get here on time, you know? They never do. Not since the Long Walk. Always too late. By then, the ritual is complete and I've taken their friend's skin. What do you think your brother's face will be like when I use your hand to sink a knife into his heart?"

The Skin Walker leered at Rawson.

"Yes. The heart. Holds a special significance. To strike a person in the heart with the hand of their loved one is a great evil. Though at this point, with my history of so-called great evils, it's getting to the point where it becomes evil for the sake of evil. What would you think of poisoning a reservoir or two with Corpse Powder? Something nightmare-inducing that will kill quickly. Would that be a good draw for more Hunters to harvest?" the Skin Walker continued, "I don't usually talk like this, but seeing as how you're more coherent than previous victims, I suppose I should return the gesture and loosen my tongue."

The Skin Walker sighed and continued.

"There'll be no Doctor or Deus Ex Machina to save you or your friends, Rawson. You're all going to die out here in the desert. Your brother has typhoid, you know that? Corpse Powder is a wonderful thing," the Skin Walker added.

"We're both ugly, Rawson. In our own ways. I know your type. You'd burn anyone and anything for your brother. A noble ideal in books and on television, but really quite selfish. You do this to protect him, yes? But it makes you feel good to protect your brother, right? You feel strong and fulfilled. Feel worth a damn. When do you think it will reach the point where you stop fighting for your brother's protection, and start fighting to make yourself feel strong? When shooting a target once isn't enough?" the Skin Walker rasped, "Your brother will see it before you do. He'll see the change. See how you ignored the warnings. Hunted monsters for too long and became one yourself. My own brother saw it in me. But he acknowledged it too late. I was a greater Witch than he ever could be. He came to see that when I revealed his Black Magic to my tribe and cut out his heart. You'll do the same. Maybe not so literally, but you will tear out your brother's heart if you continue on your chosen path. Believe me, Rawson Remington, I'm doing you a great favour by destroying you."

The Skin Walker crouched next to Rawson, picking up one of the bone knives and dragging it slowly and lightly down the centre of Rawson's chest. Blood leaked from the shallow cut, blackening the red spiral the Skin Walker had traced earlier. The Skin Walker raised the knife and delivered a small prick either side of Rawson's neck - just enough to draw a little blood. He continued with the minute cuts on Rawson's arms and legs.

"It's alright. The pain will die down and it won't hurt much afterwards," the Skin Walker assured Rawson, "Of course, not everyone blocks out pain stimulus when they go into shock. Keep your fingers crossed, Rawson."

The Skin Walker cut lightly across Rawson's stomach, then leaned down over his face.

"As for that smell you asked about earlier? You'll know where it comes from when I start to unwind your intestines," the Skin Walker announced.

((OOC: Note - have not cut deep enough to do serious damage.))

The pang of horror came first, and sudden.

A flash of an image of his own face, distorted by terror as a hand that was clearly Rawson's held a bone-knife over his chest, poised to plunge down.

But it was possible to ignore that, just a weird connection of brain cells, a loose wire--after what he'd been through, no wonder--but something told Rome, just like it told him every single time this crap happened, that it wasn't just something you could ignore.

The second wave was worse. Harder, stronger, longer, and the spike of pain had him bringing his hand up to his forehead, where it pounded sharply. He half-groaned-half-called out enough the Elenna sat forward and asked if he was all right. It hurt more, this time, because it felt like it was being resisted. If these communications really were coming from Raws--and he was seriously out of any other ideas--it was like he didn't want this one coming to him. Or he didn't want to be thinking it at all. So strongly was it resisted that Rome could barely get a clear sense of what it was:

"We're both ugly, Rawson...burn anyone and anything for your brother...monsters for too long and became one yourself..."

"My own brother saw it in me. But he acknowledged it too late. I was a greater Witch than he ever could be. He came to see that when I revealed his Black Magic to my tribe and cut out his heart."

"You'll do the same...doing you a great favor by destroying you..."

The cave. Back in the cave. Rawson's harsh breathing in the background.

Flash! and he was back. Elenna's hand on his shoulder. His eyeballs feeling like they were going to get poked out through his sinuses.

"Oh, God..." he moaned.

"Rome, what's going on? Are you okay?"

Flash!

Oh, crap, not again...

And this was pain. Just pain, no words, nothing else. Long drawn-out pain on his chest. Short, quick bursts of pain on his neck, and then on either arm, then on either leg. Fiery, angry pain. And he couldn't move, tied down somehow, and...

Flash!

"Rome! Romulus!" Female voices were shouting at him, as if through water, becoming clear again slowly.

And what the hell was he doing in the floor of the car? Upside down?!

"Um. What happened?" he asked timidly, from his awkward place on the floor. Elenna looked as if she had seen a ghost. Allison had pulled over onto the side of the road and the car was stopped.

"You tell us! You went into one of those...seizure things!" Allison cried.

"Um. Yeah. I think..." Then it all came back, and Rome leapt up, wriggling awkwardly until he was upright in his seat. "We have to hurry! I think the Skin Walker has started...some ritual! Raws is in danger!" he looked at his companions, manic fever-fear making his eyes glisten. "I mean, like seriously, now, in danger! Come on, Allison, step on it!" He looked around:



"Oh."

Lenna went pale.

I can handle ghost, vampires, sirens if I have to werewolves, but this?

The book Lenna tried to find comfort in was at her feet after the last vision or whatever Rome had. She didn’t bother to pick it up. She was rocking back and forwards on her seat and tried not to start to cry.

Everything will be fine. Rome doesn’t has to suffer as I do, we will get Raws back and then he will be as grumpy as ever and say that it took us ages to rescue him and that he would have done it much faster. He will say mean things to me and call me witch, and and... Don’t cry. I wonder what the Remington’s did to me that I am so helpless.

“Rome it’s gonna be fine. We will be there on time. You will see. Um if you want I stay this time in the car, out of the way. So no one has to worry about me, I just do what you tell me. Do you think you can burn a skin walker? Like we burned the vampires in Flagstaff.”

"What? No. Lenna, you're coming." And that was that. The pain was gone--well, ignored--and he was in Action-Rome mode now. Nothing would stop him.

"We're not exactly dressed for a hike in a canyon, but it'll have to do." Rome said, checking his gun and the extra rounds. "I'm really hoping that white ash thing is a crock of bull, because silver's all we got. I don't know if we can burn it, either, but I'd say worth a shot."

Rome shielded his eyes from the headlights as the Camaro pulled into the rough parking lot and the Russian and Georgie got out of it. Rome made a beeline for the Camaro's trunk then and grabbed the last of the silver bullets--these were .22s for the rifle--which he slung over his shoulder. He also grabbed another silver knife which he strung on his belt. He took a backpack as well and began filling it with necessities: water, food bars, sweatshirt, toilet paper. Also, for good measure, gasoline and a canister of salt. He put Raws' zippo in his pocket.

He turned around to face the group again. Everyone ready? he was about to ask, until a more pressing question replaced it: "Anyone know where to start looking?"

Lords of Kobol- couldn't this guy recognize sarcasm? "Ooh, I kill all kinds of hunters." Yeah. That's soooo scary. And obviously he didn't understand just who the Doctor was. Who the Doctor- aww, I made a funny. Rome would be so proud of me.

Despite the situation, Rawson smiled slightly.

As for- wait a minute- that's going a little too far and demands reprisal.

Questioning his relationship with Rome was definitely uncalled for. And what the frack? Family doesn't turn on itself. It was proof positive this guy was an uber-evil creeper.

"Aww, you must of sucked at being a brother. Are you sure you aren't just making your lil' bro out to be evil to justify being out of your gorram mind? A real brother never turns their back on their own. And as for me- trust me, the kids know exactly what I enjoy doing for a living." Rawson smiled, all teeth. "But unlike you, I possess at least a modicum of self control."

Rawson smirked. The creepo could slice and dice him, but damned if he was going to sit quiet and twiddle his thumbs until the Scooby Gang showed up. Yup- that was definitely their new moniker. The Scooby Gang of do gooder supernatural slayers.

Ow. That kind of tingles.

"Oh baby, that feels kinda nice. You definitely have a light touch, though; I'm barely feeling ya. You sure you've done this before? 'Cause you seem more see-blood-and-faint at the moment than intestine snatching wonder-boy. Hmm, you know, this is kind of relaxing. You treat all your guests like this?" Rawson grinned. He considered throwing in a long moan but decided that would be taking it a bit too far.

You crazy kids coming, Rome? 'Cause as entertaining as mocking the monster is, I'd rather get out of here before my insides become the new decorations. I think he'll be concentrating pretty heavily on me, so get in here and get a clear shot. And, if you're getting this, make sure you let someone take you to get treated for typhoid. Go flirt with a hot nurse at the hospital once the FBI chick gets you off the wanted list.

Danila had shed his trenchcoat, now exposing a long, slender rifle with a scope, two pistols, and a silver sword strapped to his side. An assortment of silver-filled magazines could also be seen hanging from an ammo belt, which was slung over the shoulder of his white dress shirt and came to rest just above the waist of his black jeans. He looked in the trunk of the car, smiling. Finally, a lucky break.

Danila reached into the trunk and tossed each Hunter a large bottle of water, giving Rome two. "For your brother once we rescue him," he whispered into Rome's ear, putting his hand on the younger man's shoulder as he walked past him. Rome nodded back, seeming to have an unusually heavy load on his shoulders - as a man usually does when his family is in danger.

Danila looked around a bit, picking up various small twigs, cacti branches, and rocks as he circled their location. He finally came to a stop, searching a small area and looking off to the northwest.

Danila walked back to the group, turning to Rome. "If you don't mind," he asked the younger man with a rare smile - god knows the boy needed moral support right now - "I weel take point? I believe I have the necessary tracking zkeels. . ."

The younger man looked up. He smiled back slightly, obviously noticing the irony of the situation - just a couple hours ago he had been angry with this man for giving him advice, now he would willingly relinquish control of the group for a bit to the older man's expertise. But he couldn't pull a full smile, not with his brother missing.

"Yeah, go ahead," he said quickly, barely making eye contact before looking away.

"Thank you," Danila said quietly, then walked back to the area he had been inspecting.

He checked a bit more, walking maybe twenty feet away, then came back. "Alright rebenkee, lets get a move on. Try to conzerve your water, but don't get dehydrated," he instructed, before moving off at an adequate pace along what seemed to be a trail.

Well, what seemed to be a trail to him to anyone else it would seem like just a section of desert, just a random path plotted for them all to die of dehydration. But it wasn't to Danila. If there were two things he knew, those were tracking and guns. And guns weren't his strongest suit. His gun stills may have been stronger than that of most people, but not his strongest suit.

Needless to say, the trail was plain as day and night to him. Something had left these tracks - and if one had been very observant, they would notice the off-red spots in the red sand every twenty feet or so. Rawson had left a trail for them. Involuntarily, perhaps, but the man's pain would also (hopefully) lead to his rescue.

After they had followed the trail, for the most part silently, for maybe half an hour, they came to a cliff. They followed it for about five minutes, then Danila raised his hand and brought them to a halt. The rest of the group stopped behind him, mumbling complaints about how hot it was and how slow their progress was.. He ignored them, holding his hand up to shush everyone, "Silence! Listen."

From a little ways off, a whistling sound could be heard. Danila signaled for silence, then motioned for the group to come closer together. "The cave is juzt up ahead," he whispered, "And ze Skin Walker ant Rawson are inzide. I can't say how far inzide, only zat they are inzide. Which means zat, vrum heer on out, we muzt be werry quiet."

With that he led the group forward a bit further, until a black hole in the wall of the cliff opened up beside them.

It was an unusual hole. Perfectly square. And on the walls, the ceiling, the floor even, were etchings. Drawings. Letters. A story seemed to be told in those etchings. And that story didn't look like a happy-love story, either.

Danila signaled the group over to him once more. "Inzide heer," he said, pointing, "We are in the lair of the devil. Keep your eyes open wide and your ears open wider."

Of course, everyone knew this. But it never hurts to reiterate. Danila unclipped an electric torch from his belt, turning it on to the dimmest setting and leading the group deep deeper into the cave. . .

The old man was being nice to him, that much was certain. And he appreciated it. But the bottle of water he already had was for his brother. He didn't want to make a fuss, though, and maybe no one realized he hadn't actually consumed any liquid that he'd managed to keep down since early this morning.

He took Elenna's hand as they walked, both for himself and for her: she looked even worse than he felt.

When Danila found the caves, Rome's blood ran cold. They were here. No longer could he lie to himself and tell himself that, sure, Raws was going to be okay. Either he was, or he wasn't. Period.

And how were they even planning on killing this thing? Or were they just playing into its hands? Was this a trap? Well, yeah, duh, of course it was, but would they be able to spring it and still get out alive--even mostly alive?

As they entered the cave-ruins, human activity became apparent on the walls. Ancient drawings from peoples long past glared at him, alongside newer carvings that looked as though they were drawn in blood. And some looked very fresh indeed, glistening in the light of his penlight.

Rome had a bad habit. Well, he had lots of bad habits, but one in particular got him into a great deal of trouble in his current line of work. This problem is known as the Can't-Not-Touch problem. Sure it looked like blood. But there was really only one way to find out.

As soon as his finger touched the "paint," pain spiked in the middle of his forehead so that he cried out and bent double. Images flashed through his mind of the students, the three hikers that had been murdered out here, and he experienced each one in succession, sharing, re-living, the agony of death.

Someone was beside him, holding him up, but he couldn't see who it was, or hear if they were speaking to him. Now that the floodgates were open, death and destruction followed like a tidal wave, as victim after victim of this Skin Walker--innocents and hunters alike--and way more hunters than he was really comfortable with--fell before him like wheat before the scythe.

The image of the Skin Walker was tall, broad-shouldered, cloaked in black like Death himself. He turned a grin on Rome, a smile that chilled Rome to the core, and as he turned he revealed a Native face they had seen before: Roarke! It was him all along...and he had given them false intel! No wonder nothing worked.

Wait. No. That wasn't Roarke. It was someone else. The face shifted, slightly, changed, like he was putting on a new skin until...

Rawson.

‘Don’t be afraid of the dark.’ ‘But in the dark are evil monsters Nick. Please don’t go away.’ ‘I am here, don’t worry. I stay until you fall asleep.’ I always had too much imagination. Since I can remember I believed in monster and he was always there to protect me.

Lenna felt horrible, she was never so scared on a hunt before, ever!

Oh please don’t grab one of us, please. In my next life I will be a happy McDonalds cashier, no wait they have a clown in their team, okay a happy Wendy’s cashier.

She winced as Rome took her hand, but felt immediately a little safer. They tried to be as quiet as possible, but Lenna wasn’t sure if they could be quiet enough to surprise the skin walker. The walls looked horrible and she was sure that she didn’t even want to know if the paint was paint or what she expected it to be blood. But Rome didn’t do her the favour not to have a closer look and as always he didn’t follow the rules just to watch and not touch it. Lenna tried to stop him, or wanted to do it; but she got distracted by the drawing on the other side of the room. She had seen it before, but how could she have seen a drawing of this walls before? Suddenly her attention got pulled away from it when Rome fell on his knees after he touched the paint.

“Rome? Are you okay? Rome?” her voice was filled with panic and she wasn’t sure if she whispered or screamed at her friend.

Georgina was freezing. While they were walking through the dark cave she felt like she just entered a refrigerator. Suddenly she heard Elenna gasping. She quickly turned around and saw that Rome was about to faint. Elenna leaned over him, touching his shoulders. "Rome?"

"What's wrong with him?" Georgina asked, her voice lowered to an anxious whisper. She looked at Rome, than at Elenna who only focused on Rome.

"My brother was evil. Just not evil enough," the Skin Walker replied to Rawson, licking the Hunter's blood from the blade, "You talk big, but I can taste fear. The cuts need to be light, Rawson. You see, I can't kill you before I've gathered whatever blood I want. You'll be alive as I cut off your fingers. The fingerprints go into Corpse Powder. I have other uses for other parts, but I suspect you'll be too delirious to even know I'm talking you through the process at that point in the ritual. Finally, your skin will come off."

The Skin Walker turned the knife over and over in its hands, then frowned and looked Rawson in the face.

"Would you prefer if I leave your skin somewhere he can see, or if I wear it when I kill him?" the Skin Walker offered.

Rome groaned. "Goddamnit, I hate it when this crap happens. It's got to frakking stop, and I mean now."

"This happens a lot?" Georgie asked, incredulous.

Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you I'm an epileptic psychic freak that can't even bend spoons. But was gonna save that for the third date.

He was still reeling slightly, but he forced himself to his feet. "Roarke was lying to us. He is the Skin Walker. So we have no idea how to kill this thing. Great. Frakking great. And he's...Raws may be..."

Rome swallowed hard. No. His crazy brain had been wrong before. Or he wasn't understanding it right.

Still. Beware of anything that looks like Raws. Which might be the Skin Walker. Which might mean Raws is already dead. Which was something he did not need to think about now.

"We have to hurry. I feel like I'm saying this a lot...but it may...we might be too..." He couldn't say it. He just couldn't. "If we stand around here anymore it'll be too late," he decided sufficed, and was true enough. "Come on." He stalked a few steps down the dark corridor before looking back over his shoulder. Elenna was staring at some carvings on the wall--very old ones--some symbolic crap, like heiroglyphics or something that he didn't understand. He took her by the hand, "Come on, Lennie," and pulled her along. "You're such a nerd," he chided quietly as he squeezed her hand.

Danila had re-assumed point as they continued down the passage. Allison came next, managing to navigate the cave floor with little trouble even in heels--which, Rome assumed, must have come with whatever other superpowers the female species had. Georgie was next, her rifle pointed up and ready, looking completely anachronistic--and super-hot--in her pink mini-skirt. He and Elenna came last, still holding hands like friggen Hansel and Gretel, but Rome managed to convince himself that it was because she was scared that he was holding her hand. Her hand was in his left, and his gun was in his right hand, pointed down and ready, an extra mag in his hip pocket. Every once in a while he swung his light back to check behind them at the cave entrance, where only star and moonlight showed through, became smaller and smaller.

Man, wouldn't Raws just love this? It was like a real-live frakking dungeon-crawl. Rome continued to tell himself that he would just have to share the joke with his twin when he was safe again. Not if.

The world continued to blur somewhat. Maybe it was the fever, or the Corpse Powder, or the damned oppressive evilness of this place. He could still see shadows on the walls around them flickering oddly, like the murdered ghosts were guiding them along. Not exactly benevolently, but not quite threatening, either. Just as if they were watching. One in particular hovered around Allison's head, casting an eerie shadow over her. Rome didn't say anything, though, because with him, he really never knew if he was just seeing things. Especially today.

The Skin Walker's eyebrow twitched. Voices. Voices. So close, and the ritual not finished.

"Well, Rawson, it seems I underestimated how fast your friends would come to your rescue. No matter. Just reverses the positions," the Skin Walker mused, picking up his knives and sliding them into a belt made of human skin, "You get to see them die."

The Skin Walker pulled the skin of the Wendigo tight around itself and disappeared into the darkened tunnels of its lair.

Ring around the rosy...

Allison kept her eyes wide and her ears open for any trace of the skin walker. Rome's episode made her even more alert. There was no way it hadn't been heard--so much for the element of surprise. The more she listened though the more she thought she head the strangest thing--children singing.

Pockets full of posies...

Okay, creepy--but what about this place wasn't? She could hear more now--the groans of a tortured man trying not to give his tormentor the satisfaction of a scream. They were close. She could smell death. It hung on the walls painted with blood. The light of a pale flame flickered on the walls of the cave. She directed the others to turn off their flashlights. The hair on her neck stood up on end and she hardly dared to breathe.

Ashes, ashes--we all fall...

Something wasn't right. This was too easy. She fell back to the rear of the group. suddenly feeling as if they had all made a very big mistake. They entered the empty chamber. Rome ran to where his brother was tied up, still breathing but a lot of blood lost. The skin walker wasn't there, but a collection of carved knives and bowls sat around Rawson. He couldn't be far. Aly turned to run, her training failing her, the fear taking over. She couldn't breathe. All she could think about was getting away. She took one step into the tunnel they had come through.

...DOWN!

"Hello again, partner."

Allison screamed.

Oh, this is just precious. I doesn't know how to deal with me. Aww, I guess I'm just special. It wants me to be afraid- like frackin' hell. Thing's got it's senses mixed up.

"Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain! I must not fear! Fear is the mind killer..." Rawson shouted the Litany Against Fear with a touch of glee. Plus it was easier to ignore the deranged ramblings of a lunatic when he didn't have to hear them.

And then it looked up, hearing sounds. Oh joy, here come the loud cavalry. Just like a real cavalry. Rawson took the opportunity to look around the area. Where the hell were the skins? Or did it have a trans-dimensional pocket or something? And a pocket where? Eww, bad thoughts.

Human's unnecessary, but there's at least one werewolf. Come on, come on- they've got to be around here somewhere.

He craned his neck, trying to look around.

Werewolf- if there's a whole hunter secret society other people have to know. People who've been raised with it or touched by it- creepy crawlies, that is, not necessarily 'Hunters'. And some of them are going to be willing to pay. This could be a nice side market. And I don't care who takes this fracker down- I got lite-sliced by the wuss. I'm totally claiming that!

The drawing, I know it means something. No Rome, don’t let go, pleeeaaaaaseeee.

When Lenna saw Raws tied on of table and all the blood she felt dizzy.

No, no, nonononono don’t be dead. Please. You can’t be dead, who will call me a witch and tell me that I have at least three personalities. Rome needs you Raws please don’t be dead.

Lenna rushed after Rome to Raws. She looked Rome trying not to cry.

It wasn’t more than a whisper when she asked him. “Rome is he...?” Lenna couldn’t finish the question. She wasn’t sure if she wants to know the answer to it. A scream let spin her around. She didn’t know what the scream meant but she was just terrified and wished them all to be back in the bar and the skin walker died magically.

Can a skin walker have a stroke? That would be awesome.

Rawson's eyes were closed as he waited. Perhaps not the best move, but whatever. And seriously- was he invisible or something?

"No. Not dead. Just bored. And sick of being tied up and not having sex or being killed. There's really no other reason for the whole bondage thing. No please get me the frack off this and hand me a gun. Oh, and powder crap won't work. So make sure I have silver bullets."

They were staring at him.

"Move people."

Lenna took her knife and started to cut the ropes that tied Raws to the table, trying to ignore the noises behind her.

“Raws? I know you don’t care what I say, but I am really glad you are not dead. We know the powder crap won’t work, um Rome told us. Roarke is the skin walker.”

Lenna hoped Raws understood what she tried to say. She was shivering what made it difficult for her to cut the ropes and her thoughts were still with the drawing.

One was a human in it I am certain, but... why do I know this drawing? Where the hell have I seen it before.

It was kind of perfect how the group split: like a flock of birds arching off in different directions they peeled away from each other: Danila, Allison, and Georgie to deal with the Skin Walker--it must be the Skin Walker, because it was the only living thing in here other than Rawson--while he and Elenna went to help Raws.

People were screaming behind him, including Elenna, right in his ear, which he could really do without, but Rawson was still alive, so what else mattered, really?

He was tied spread-eagle to some sort of low slab, like an altar, and very clearly alive and pissed off, but he was covered in blood. What little skin showed through the blood and paint looked sickeningly pale. How had he been bleeding? Rome immediately dumped his pack and began wrapping the wounds that were still bleeding. They didn't look deep enough to do any serious damage, but were deep enough to bleed, and they hadn't stopped.

And Rawson was nagging him about untying him?

"Dude. I'm trying to keep you from bleeding to death, so bite me."

"I'm sick of being tied up and not having sex or being killed..."

"Dude!" Rome cried, continuing to put pressure on the cut on his chest that continued to bleed, though he grinned in appreciation at Rawson's joke. "See that's the only reason I came here to save your ass. Just when I think I'm the most perverted sicko on the planet, I look at you and remember I could always be worse," he winked.

"Bite me."

"Sorry, not my type," he grinned, and helped Elenna cutting the ropes. He helped Rawson get to his feet, tightening the bandages despite his protests, and noticing that his brother didn't seem as steady as he normally was. Rawson shrugged it off, but that was expected from the heroically retarded. "Okay, so then I got one question for you. You feelin' handgun or rifle tonight?"

What the Hell is wrong with me? I am a trained FBI agent. Why am I...running away?

Allison shook off the overwhelming feeling of dread. She aimed the gun straight in front of her--almost touching the barrel to the creature's chest. It was that close and that confident. Its breath stank of she didn't want to know. At this range she couldn't miss, even with her hands shaking as much as they were.

She didn't even think before she pulled the trigger. The skin walker fell back with a cry. Its heart was exploded by the combined power of the impact and the silver. A large eruption of smoke came from its chest, but it stood back up to its full height. The next thing she knew she was thrown against the far wall.

We can add a few more broken ribs to that tally. Again the need to run and leave the hunters to their fate washed over her. It wasn't what she wanted to do--almost like it came from an outside will. The skin walker must have a whole bag of tricks she couldn't possibly understand.

Allison pushed herself off the ground and fired again, this time in chorus with at least three other guns. The skin walker howled, but again it kept coming.

"Can this thing even die?!"

"Rome--what the frack is the Fed doing here?"

"You're welcome, Rawson."

She fired again and again but it barely slowed the thing down.

Elenna looked freaked--they all were--but she also had the far away glance that students involved in deep research get. "There are very few invincible things in the spirit realm--and even those have their weaknesses." It sounded like she was beginning a lecture on medieval superstitions.

"Skip the history lesson--how can it die?!" Another three rounds. She was going to need a reload here soon.

Rawson watched the world spin and shake as he got to his feet. Stupid world with it's stupid spinning. And for a moment, he swore there were two of them. Two Rome's he could deal with... maybe. Two Elenna's? Scary, man. Two FBI chicks? So unfair.

Wait, Rome, gun.

The world started to come into a little more focus.

"Whatever you brought with the best precision. Unless you happen to have silver buckshot with you? Since, you know, we don't need to know where we need to hit it."

And Elenna started explaining about spirits and weaknesses and whatnot. Honestly, he just needed a gun in hand and a target to shoot at. Hopefully it wasn't an achilles tendon or a gallbladder or something crazy like that. Aiming for someone's gallbladder? First of all, it would be kind of a strange, hidden target. Second... that would just be weird.

"Rifle," Rome said, unslinging the strap from around his shoulder and hooking it on Rawson's unresisting arm.

His brother didn't look good. Like a stiff breeze would knock him over, no matter how macho he liked to think he was. He also appeared angry, which was typical Rawson: angry that his body was malfunctioning, like he was some robot that was supposed to keep going without a hitch.

What a pair they made now, though relief had Rome feeling worlds better. Mother had always complained because when one of them became ill the other invariably followed, even if she took pains to keep their food, clothes, toys, and even sleeping arrangements separate. Wherever one went, the other always followed, as if they were irrevocably connected. Nothing new here.

"Come on, Raws, stay with me," he said, slapping his brother gently on the face. "Two extra mags here," he said, nudging them into Rawson's palm. "You take point. I'm right behind you. Elenna, start thinking. We need some ideas fast."

"I can't just pull lore out of thin air, Rome!" she snapped. Something was clearly bugging her. She seemed preoccupied, which was weird, because now that his brother was alive and with him, Rome could only think of one thing that merited any consideration right now, and it was the unhuman monster on the other side of the room. He wouldn't be surprised if she was flicking through a mental library or something for some piece of long-forgotten information. Only he wished she could do it faster. Maybe you had to hit it in it's left appendix? On a full moon? With a bullet made out of gold? This was getting ridiculous.

But, then, surely anything died with enough lead--or, you know, silver--in its body, right?