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File: #A-1938BGZ

Name: Alucard

Alias: Death, The Reaper, Boogie Man

General info: Has the appearance of a twenty-three year old Caucasian male with jet black hair, and deep blue eyes. Generally wears blood-stained coveralls. Always carries a straight-shaft scythe.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Yup, that’s him. Our enemy. Death himself. The final enemy. We have been hunting him since earliest memory. We go by many names: Witches, Wizards, Mages, The Fates, The Muses. We come from many times, many countries, many walks of life. We stand united against Death and his allies. We fight against his machinations. We fight for life. We fight for justice. We fight for light. We fight for all of humanity. We fight to survive. We are the Sons of Death. This is the story of our war. This is the start of the end of Death’s reign. This is the start of a new era of peace. This is ...

A NEW DAWN ...

“He who stands for nothing falls for anything”

Year 2047

Seattle, Washington, Badlands

I inch along the ledge that was the old hotel’s second floor balcony, Type-8 Stunner pistol in one hand and using the other to balance myself. Oh, name’s Riese by the way. Corporal Riese “Windstorm” Anderson of the U.S. Army as of 1944. I’m a son of Alucard (though most know him as Death) and second in command of the “Sons of Death” resistance. Plus, thanks to my Colt 1911, which I got when I turned twenty-six, I’m immortal.

I digress. My 1911 rests in it’s holster on my left hip (I can’t be more than three feet away from it for over ten minutes or I lose my immortality). I almost get my head blown off by a shotgun as I pass a window. Almost. I turn around when I hear the click in time to see the shotgunner drop her firearm and fall to the floor, twitching from a hit to the shoulder from a Type-2 Zap rifle. I get a call on my headset. It’s Nikolai, our weapons expert and, for this mission at least, our sniper.

“Riese, Nikolai. Confirm hit. Over.”

“Nikolai, Riese. Hit confirmed. Nice shootin’ man. I’m goin’ in. Cover me. Over.”

“Copy.” He swears in Russian and his line suddenly goes to static. I quickly switch over to a private line with Verucktt, our Team Lead. “Verucktt, Riese. Niki’s line’s just gone dead. I think he may have been compromised. I’m heading into the building now. Over.”

“Copy Riese. Heading to his current position now. Good hunting. Over and out.”

Now, I should probably explain why I’m here. In the Badlands. Getting shot at. In an old hotel. This all started as a simple recon/trading mission. It went to hell when we saw two more of Alucard’s children. Both male. One of them waved his hand in the direction of the other group, the one we were trading with. And now, ten minutes later, here we are. Me looking for the other one in a hotel that’s falling down around my ears. Literally. A section of the ceiling tiles just landed next to me.

Then I see him, running at me. Something glints in his hand as he leaps at me. A knife! Shit! I roll to one side as he lands. He spins and slams the knife into my shoulder. I scream and drop my Type-8 as the three-inch steel blade sinks up to the hilt in my shoulder. He pulls out the dagger when I scream. I grab my shoulder with one hand and grab his wrist with the other.

“My name is Riese Anderson,” I say through gritted teeth, “I think we need to talk.”

“Let go of me, saukerl,” he says, breaking free of my grip.

“Oh joy,” I say sarcastically, “Another German. And he’s a bad tempered one at that!”

“Vhat do you mean by ‘another’ German, arschloch,” he says.

“My CO is a German by the name of Verucktt,” I say.

“Fine. I vill tell you my name. I am called Fuer,” he says.

“Lemme guess, you never knew your father, and you probably lived through many lifetimes. Got a mysterious package in your twenties. Am I close?” I ask.

“Ja. Dat is all true. I got dis dagger when I turned twenty,” says Fuer.

“Fuer. You are a son of Death. We, the resistance, call him by his real name, Alucard,” I say, “We fight Alucard. We fight him and his minions. Much like your friend back there. We already have seven members including myself. We could use someone with your skills. My friend.” I reach forward and put my hand on his shoulder. “Will you stand with us?”

“Ja. I vill stand vith you,” Fuer says. He shrugs out of my grasp. “But never touch me again.”

“Agreed,” I say. And then it hits me like a brick (and I know first-hand how that feels), “Where is your friend? Perhaps he’d like to join us as well?”

“Nein. I do not believe he vould. Fear, dat is vhat I call him, does not like others much,” says Fuer with a shake of his head.

“I see. Perhaps we should get back to the others in my squad,” I say as I lean down and pick up my Type-8. “Tell me, what year are you from?”

“I vill tell dis Verucktt, not some American, my story. I vill let him tell you if he vants,” he says. Then, just barely audibly, “Arschloch.”

-- -- -- -- -- --

We walk out of the hotel to find the fighting is over, and that Galest, our Irish medic, is patching a hole in Nikolai’s shoulder. This is gonna be an interesting week.

“So many words left unspoken, so many questions left unanswered, and unasked. So many things left undone. I wish I had more time. Life is finite, live it to the full.”

SDB - A3

After a five mile walk from Seattle we get to Base A3, marked on most of the maps of our allies as SDB-A3 (“Sons of Death, Base A3”). The old maps call the base The Tacoma Dome. The hotel next to the dome itself is our main barracks, and my first stop.

I slip away from the group as we enter the base through the West Gate, one of four main entrances, and head towards the Barracks. I pass The Lot, where we repair and store our personal vehicles, on the way. I stop to watch our mechanic, Rez, work on my 1945 Indian Chief motorbike (long story short, I found it). He looks up, sees me, and shoos me off.

I leave and continue on towards the Barracks. I’m barely through the door when I get tackled from the side. Hard.  I hit the ground and my training kicks in. I fight back but my attacker blocks, or dodges, each blow with what seems to be practiced ease. I let my guard down when I realize who it is. Big mistake. She hits me in the stomach hard enough to knock the wind out of me. I crumple.

“Lageneia, forty-three. Riese, two,” she says in that strange accent of hers. None of us quite know where, or when, she is from. As far as we know, she is the only daughter Alucard ever had. As for the location? We’ve narrowed that down to either Greece or Egypt. I finally manage to catch my breath and she helps me up, smiling.

“You need to work on your reaction time brother,” she says, brushing a strand of her blonde hair out of her face.

“Yeah, I know that Jen,” I say, “And you need to learn to pull your punches sis! That really hurt you -” I don’t get to finish before she hugs me. If she weren’t my half-sister, I’d really enjoy this more, I think to myself. Jen’s ability is to control love, and revenge (hey, she can be REALLY cruel sometimes).

Her item is the only one, other than Galest’s medpack and Verucktt’s lighter, that has always been socially acceptable. It’s a gold necklace with a heart-shaped ruby pendant. Others, like my 1911, had to change into items that were as the years progressed. For example, in the fifties and sixties it was a pipe I kept in my jacket pocket.  Somewhere between the nineties and the War in 2021 I got a concealed weapons license so it was a 1911 again. Anyway, back to the subject at hand.

“I’ve got something for ya sis,” I say as I break free of her hug and reach into my satchel. I pull out an old snowglobe and hand it to her. Her eyes light up as she takes it and reads the fading paint on the base, “Athens, Greece”.

“Thank you so much! I only need one more to finish my collection now!” she says. She runs up to our room on the second floor of the barracks as I turn and, smiling, walk outside towards the main building. As I walk through the entrance to the security office I hear the distinctive hissing of CO2 cylinders. Must be a paintball tournament today, I think as I turn into the office for the debriefing.

I walk into the office to find that the meeting has already started. And it seems that CJ has met our newest recruit because when I walk in I find him pointing the muzzle of his Colt Python revolver at Fuer’s face. Well, shit.

“CJ! What the hell are you doing?! He is our newest recruit!” I say as I rush in to stand between CJ and Fuer.

“Move Riese. Move now unless you want to get a hole blown through your face,” he snarls as he cocks the hammer of his revolver back. My eyes widen, but I stay put.

“CALVIN JAMES BLAZE! STAND DOWN NOW! THAT IS AN ORDER!” I feel more than hear Verucktt’s voice as he enters the room from a side entrance. CJ puts his revolver away, slowly and very reluctantly I might add. “Now, Fuer. My humblest apologies for CJ’s behavior. What happened?”

“Dis saukerl accused me of killing his grandparents. I do not see how dis is possible as I have never been to Canada in my life,” Fuer said, very quietly. Somehow, when he speaks quietly he is far more intimidating than when he yells. CJ is obviously at the point of ripping Fuer’s head off with his bare hands. Verucktt notices this the moment I do.

“CJ, stand down,” he orders. Turning to one of the soldiers he adds, “Major? See CJ down to the arena. I believe he could use some combat practice.” The soldier nods and escorts CJ down stairs to the arena. “I apologize again for CJ’s behavior. He usually does not act like this with the new recruits,” says Verucktt, turning back to Fuer.

"Ja, it seems to me dat he has unfinished business vith someone,” says Fuer, nodding. At this point I can’t resist speaking any longer.

“Sir, CJ may have a point in being suspicious of Fuer,” I say, “No offence Fuer, but your joining the Militia when we needed someone with your abilities can’t be a coincidence.” Fuer nods his agreement with this statement.

“Yes, I myself find it a little suspicious that you and your friend just happened to show up today like that,” says Verucktt, “Just as we were about to finish making a deal that would help both the Militia and the Wastelanders in Seattle.”

“It may be dat you have a traitor in your midst,” says Fuer, quietly. After glancing at Verucktt, as if for permission, he turns and walks away, fading into the shadows. Damn, that’s creepy. After a moment I turn to Verucktt.

“Sir? The official reports say that one of Alucard’s minions killed CJ’s grandparents, not a German or anything of the sort,” I say, “From what I hear it was a Shifter.”

“That’s true Riese,” says Verucktt, nodding, “Although the official reports also say that the Shifter was in the form of a German soldier from the first World War, do they not?” I nod. “So, if Fuer fits the bill, then it’s understandable that CJ would mistake him for the Shifter.”

“Of course sir,” I say, “But it just seems that there are so many questions left unanswered by the report. So many things the report doesn’t say. I wish there was a way of going back and finding out what truly happened.” Verucktt nods and starts to walk out of the Office.

“I’m going to the bar, care to join me?” he asks. I nod and walk after him.