The Le Mort files

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  • #138738

    Funkmachine7
    Participant

    This is not a new story but it’s in order and not just scattered over my main thread.

    And yes she has the power to instantly change her clothes and hair.

    ————-
    Part one, Clubs and Stakes
    ————-

    “Ok you said vampire hunting, you said casual wear, so why are to wearing that?”
    “I said night clubs that mean we have to get inside, And do so with out question, so put your gun back in the van and try to look like you can stand this crap that passes for music.”

    Emilie was sweaty as she crossed the dance floor, still she had her target in site, she just hoped that Dominic was still following her…


    “So your the hunter! what was your plan? a stake in my heart? some garlic? holy water?
    Well it doesn’t matter any more, i’ll drain you as soon as i finish off this.”
    He had confidence of a man that thinks he holds all the cards, given that he had a gun he did.
    He was a large man and heavily muscled, easily a good 200 pounds heaver than her and a suckling vampire to boot.
    That meant that he was young, a few month’s old at most, that meant that he hadn’t gained any real power yet, still he’ll be fantastically strong…

    Emilie had been right, this was crap music and he was dressed all wrong he stood out like a thumb.

    The red haired dancer opposite him smiled as to say hello hansom, as she stepped closer.

    She did open her mouth and try to introduce her self but the god awful drone obscured it.
    There was a jolt from his pager, Emilie had found the target.
    Pushing pass the lady he reached inside his jacket fingering the cold steel of the large framed colt automatic.

    Holding his pistol close to his chest, he open the storeroom door.
    With the crack of thunder his pistol blazed as he opened fire.

    Gun fire echoed in Emilie’s ears as she watched the vampire staggered back under Dominic’s assault, sliver bullets punching deep in his vampiric flesh.

    Like cobra she leapt at the vampire, driving both feet in to the monsters belly.
    The vampire fell back, tripping over the table.
    Blood trickled from the vampires mouth as he fired wildly back at Dominic from the floor.

    Rolling back Emilie sprang to the balls of her feet as the vampires gun ran dry.

    Dominic swore as he slammed a new magazine in to his pistol.
    He stared as the vampire rose to his feet, oblivious to the slugs in his chest , his bullets had done nothing, it’s like he had toy, not a colt .45!.

    Emilie arose, every muscle tense as she whipped her leg straight up, caching the monster throat with her boot’s heel as his head smashed in to the concentrate ceiling.

    Suddenly the vampire stopped as if someone had turned the lights out.
    “One dead maggot of a vampire, now do you want to do the honours dom?”

    Emilie stopped mid sentence as she court sight of Dominic clutching his side as blood tricked down his shirt.

    “Oh Frell…”

    ————-
    Part two, Death on to legs
    ————-

    Dominic was numb and warm, it had been a week now he’ll lain in the hospital bed.

    “I’m here a week now… waiting for a new mission… getting softer.
    Every minute I stay in this room, I get weaker, and every minute it’s out there on the streets drinking, Getting stronger.
    Each time I look around the walls move in a little tighter, getting closer.”
    There was a knock at the door, the nurse entered, he been here far to long, the nurses where starting to look better and better.

    It was a week later when Dominic was finally discharged.

    “.. What we know about vampires is pretty vague, reading Dracula is probably the most informative thing i can think of.
    But it’s not like vampires are a modern thing, Julius Caesar declared all the monsters of the night to be “Hostis humani generis”, enemy’s of the human race during his dictatorship.
    I suppose that’s why there where so few of them until the darkages.

    When some one becomes a vampire they change, and change A Lot, there fingernails turn in to black talons like claws, leathery wing sprout from there back.
    But then they turn back become more humanlike, you go a good look at the last one, his was about four month old, while his mouth was an inhuman fanged maw, the rest of him was changing back to a more human form.”

    “So what about the turning in mist and no reflection, do that happen?”
    “Well some of them can be shocking fast and most of them are inhumanly strong, but no i’ve never see any real supernatural power or anything like that.
    Right now i need you to forget that I’m not an American citizen, my evil sister Lillian has some supply’s for the both of us…”


    “Well that you sorted out sis, Now what about you mister tall, dark and hansom…”


    “Thanks for lending me your coat sis, mine still at the dry cleaners.” Emilie shouldered the shotgun as she spoke.
    “It’s yours, keep it, i know how much “government” work pays.” Lillian smiled as she shrugged slightly.

    “Well your right there, it does pay less than what you do.
    But it’s not covered in blood like yours.
    It’s less money but it’s easy on my mind, i sleep better an i don’t have to launderer it or worry about clients trying to pay in hard drugs.”

    “Well i can’t argue with that, still being able to pick my hours and jobs, it really helps with the stress.
    Now are we going after this vampire or should it put the kettle on?” With a sincere tone to her voice Lillian collected her submachinegun.

    ————-
    Part Three, Thunder on the Highway.
    ————-

     

    “Lillian, watch my tail, I’ve got this blood sucking trucker.”

    Emilie smiled to her self, he was dumb, all most moronically so.
    What chance did he have in running? he was in a 18 wheel semi truck.

    Now came the hard part, stopping him.

    With a flick of her wrist the bike roared in to life, carrying her faster and closer to the truck.

    She moved, planting her heels in the passenger foot pegs, then pulling her shotgun from its holster.

    Standing up right above the saddle, she racked the slide, the chain holding it to her wrist jangled as she worked the gun with one hand.

    The front tire exploded as the shot tore it apart, the truck started to slide as the driver fought for control.

    Her second blast tore apart the rear axle in a storm of sparks and shredded rubber.

    The truck went deeper in to the skid, spinning on to the crash barrier.

    The remaining wheels spun in a cloud of smoking rubber as the drive tried hopeless to get moving.

    Emilie slowed to a stop beside the wreck, and time slowed down, as she stepped from the bike, this was the dangerous part.

    With a practised grace she drew her pistols, her rubber gloves sqeaking as she griped tight on cold steel.

    Gravel crunched under her boots heel’s as she slowly approached the front of the truck.

    The driver snarled at her, his eye burning with vampiric rage as he tried to reach his attacker, but the seat belt held him firm.

    Emptying both gun in a blaze of thunder, Emilie tore the bloodsucker apart in a storm of silver bullets.
    ———–

    The phone rang loudly, awaking Emilie as the early morning light entered the hotel  room.
    “Agent Emilie Le Mort? This is control.
    Got a mission for you, Hold for details.” the voice was cold, mechanical.

    Emilie clicked the phone on to speaker mode, holding music filled the room as she tighten her spiked choker.

    “Ok here’s the details, you’ll love his one sugar.” the easy southern voice of her handler filled the room.

    “Go a head, what is it?”

    “Its some kind of minor demonic intrusion in Dallas County.
    Local law enforcement has already cleared the site once, you are to clean up it, shut mouths and make people forget.
    A local agent will meet you at the Dallas office.
    Oh and i hear that you new tattoo, i can’t wait to see it.”
    With a click the call ended.

    ————-
    Part Four, Cults  and Crypts
    ————-

    The air was cold and still as Emilie approached the graveyard.
    It was all always graveyards, well sometimes it was old mental institutes or a slaughterhouse but mosty oculists where stereotypical at the best.

    Slowly they crept forwards nearer to the clocked figurers at the centre of the graveyard.
    Then she spotted her in the distance.

    She stood out a mile, completely different from the others.

    Standing alone, tall with long lean legs, her skin was pale and flawless with a slight glow.
    Her purple eyes flashed, cat like and with cold wickedness.

    Like a thunder clap it dawned on Emilie.
    She was a homunculus, an artificial being given live by a black fusion of science and sorcery.

    Emilie nudged the man next to her.
    “The redhead, in black pants with the sword, she’s a homunculus.
    At least her outfit makes seance now, all skin tight leather and rubber.
    Knee high boots with stiletto heels and a tight corset.
    That means one of two things, A and this is the worse case she’s a mature homunculus,fully aware and in control of her self.
    So she dressing like that because she wants to show off her body.”

    “Really? who chooses to dress like that” he questioned

    “-Huhm- (Emilie pointed to her self)
    That is unlikely so here’s the second, the cultists still control her and lets just say most of them don’t get out much.”

    “Well thank you for the history lesson miss Le Mort.
    Now how do we kill it?” he asked.

    ———————-
    “Kill it? She’s no it,and There’s no killing her.
    Not with normal guns anyway.” she explained.

    “So if we can’t use guns what do we do then?” Dominic asked

    “We can’t kill her, but no one walks way from a face full of triple-aught buckshot.
    I’ll go in first and try to draw them away.
    You save the girl and get straight out, no getting shot this time.
    Then we all meet up.” With a chunk Emilie ready her shotgun and headed in to the dark maze of grave stones.

    Emaile Le Mort moved slowly, creeping from tombstone to tombstone in the low fog.
    She had to get closer, draw there eye to her so Dominic could reach the girl.
    She leap in to action, grabbing the last cultist by neck and jamming her pistol in to her face.

    “HALT! STAY WHERE YOU ARE! “she shouted.
    The leader turned and pulled a gun from under his robes, Emaile dived for cover, tossing the hostage aside.

    Her shotgun roared back, scattering them as Dominic dashed to the alter.
    Another final shotgun blast and she pulled out her second pistol.

    The twin .357 magnums barked fire and death as woman and Dominic ran in to fog.

    With a click the revolvers ran dry and Emaile started to load the shotgun.
    The sound of a blade scarping out from a scabbard made her turn.

    It was the homunculus, with inhuman speed she thrust her sword at Emaile.
    The cold steel blade pieced deep in to her chest.

    “Ow you stabbed me! This is my favourite top! and look you ruined it!.” Emaile looked down at the sword hanging from her chest.

    The homunculus woman looked at her shocked as Emaile seemed to be more concerned about her shirt than the sword.

    “Oh your still wondering why i’m not dead yet?
    You didn’t think that the only one, did you?
    Now if you put down that sword we can talk, you have a lot of questions don’t you?”…

    #138799

    Herr D
    Participant

    Fun.

    #139904

    Funkmachine7
    Participant

    ———————–

    Part 5

    Carburettors and cannibal.

    ———————–

    The night was icy cold and dark, as a woman waited in the shadows.
    The dieing orange glow of a cigarette lit her face, as she glance at her watch.
    She was tall with lean, almost predatory look in her razor sharp blue eyes.
    She flicked the last of her cigarette in to the gutter and and ground under her stiletto heel.

    It was a risky job this one, dangerous too with the new client but she need the money without it she’d be dead soon.

    Another cigarette slipped in to her ruby lips as her wait ended.
    The car slowed to a stop at the far end of the ally and he got out, the local sheriff.

    A gun bulged under his shoulder as he walked to her, so she let her coat slide open showing him the large Beretta submachine gun.

    “a… ar.. Are you the “exterminator”? the sheriff all but whispered his voice betraying his nerves.

    The woman just look at him her face blank as she took one last puff before she crushed the smouldering cigarette in her fingers.

    “No I’m Lillian, and i’m an assassin and you call me such, i’m not an exterminator, a cleaner, a torpedo, a plumber, a wet boy, a mechanic, a jackal, a hatchet man, a trigger girl, or any other crap like that.
    I’m here to kill for money and that all, are you clear on that?.
    Good, now you have the money for the down payment?

    “what? but.. but we haven’t discussed who i’m hiring you for.”
    “Do you think it matter’s? your the Sheriff and i’m the bounty hunter to bring them in dead.So who do i kill?”

    “I need you kill the local branch of the Satan’s Cossacks.”

    “Ok im going to ask you for two things.

    One fifteen thousand dollars for each of them.

    Two you give me your duty side arm, because i want you to be the one that runs the crime scene.

    Do we have a deal?”….

    ————-

     

     

     

    #141047

    Funkmachine7
    Participant

    The door broke and splinted as Lillian drove her heel in to the wood.
    As the alarm bleared in to life she readied the sheriff pistol, clicking off the safety as she entered the club house.

    It stank, the air heavy with the smells of stale beer, petrol and dead meat
    She entered the main living room and put three round straight in the legs of the first Cossack.
    In a blink she put second burst in him and headed after the others.
    In the tight confines of club house, she moved from room to room gunning down every one she saw.

    She smashed open the bathroom door and pointed her beretta at the man.
    She fired, the bullet smashing the porcelain sink in to dust, then with a click her Beretta ran dry.

    Half naked the man leap at her, he was a big heavy set man, with muscles deep under the flab.
    With ease he knocker her down and landed on top of her raining down punches with one hand, as the other grasped around her throat.

    Lillian’s head spun as his knuckles bloody her nose, but she had an ace up here sleeve.

    She wiggled and squirmed, trying to throw the man of her until she could grab the knife from her boot.
    The blade flashed as she trust in to arm pit, a spurt of crimson from artery and it was over.

    A Lillian picked her self from the floor, a siren wailed in the distance.

    #144496

    Funkmachine7
    Participant

    Department Of ██████, New York office,
    December 22.

    “Well look at you Emilie! I think the prize for most festive dress is yours.”
    “Maybe, more wine?..”

    December 24

    Dominic felt like he’d spent the night with his head in a cement mixer.
    As he opened his eyes it got worse, his alarm clock flashed that he was late.


    “You look like crap Dom, did you sleep in a ditch last night?” Emaile asked him in the cheery manner that only some one that is clearly not hung over can manage.
    “No i got home, but how the hell are you still up? it 3 am when i left and you where still drinking that rum.” Dominic grimiest remembering the taste.
    “Continental tolerance, i’ve had more practice.
    Now the bad news is the boss has given us the short straw.” Emaile sighed.
    “Eh how bad can it be? just post me the details where the night shift anyway so i’m going back to bed.” Dominic muttered.

    As the sun went down Dominic dressed for work in his freshly ironed blue suit, crisp red silk tie and a colt .45.

    “Uh why are you Emaile dressed in a NBC suit? I thought the department had some work for us.” Dominic asked perplexed by her attire.

    “Sewer Zombies. Three week old Zombies swimming in the sewers.
    I said we got the short straw, so get changed.”


    “Officer Nicolella to Dispatch, what did the call say about the 10-32?”
    -click- “Please Standby Details to follow..”

    #144885

    Funkmachine7
    Participant

    It had been a really bad day for Dominic, he was in a sewer, sweating inside NBC suit looking for Zombies.

    “Well we have a body now but where the rest of it?
    Eaten?” Dominic asked holding the torch steady.

    Something splashed in the distance, then a sound echos “UHHNAARRGG!!”.

    #145119

    Funkmachine7
    Participant

    Some how Dominic’s day had gotten worse,
    Not only had he’ been forced to sweat-out a killer hangover.
    He’d been forced to do it inside of all things NBC suit, while he was
    20 feet under ground in a sewer… a zombie filled sewer.

    It made his arrest seem like holiday  by compensation.

    #145482

    Funkmachine7
    Participant

    Report Number: 1704303
    Reporting Officer: Nicolella Alexopoulou
    Interviewing Officer: Detective John Yang

    At 1:23 P.M. was dispatched to 57 Henry Street regarding a report of suspicious armed individuals at the rear of the building.
    At 1:32 P.M. received a report of a firearm discharge originating from sewers.
    Entered the sewers in pursuit of the suspects.

    “Nicolella just tell us want happened in the sewers? what did you see?”
    “It was so dark, i couldn’t see much, just them.
    “Them? The two you brought in to custody.”
    “No i didn’t see them at first just others.”

    “Other’s, the dead body we recovered from the sewers?.”
    “No he wasn’t a body, it was dead, dead but he moved before they shot him.”

    “He moved? you mean that impact knocked him over?
    “NO that man was walking, honest to god he was alive!”
    “Look at the body, He’s been dead for weeks! his gone green and started to rot.”
    “He walked, as did the other two.

    They where alive! I headed them calling out, I saw them ignore the bullets as they walked towards us.”

    “Lets leave that for now, what about the suspects…

    #147514

    Funkmachine7
    Participant

    The Le Mort Files (part 8)

    “So what do you whant to know? Officer Alexopoulou?
    You already know that theres 4 verstion of what happened down there.

    The truth, my side , your side and and what the records will show.
    Now i don’t to bore you with the details, so i’ll put my offer on the table.”

    “Offer? your not in a good postion to bargin, you shot them thats muder. what do you have to bargin with Miss Le Mort?”

    “A choice Ms Alexopoulou, you can forget everything that happen last night and go back to police work
    Or i’ll tell every thing about what happened and there will be no going back, last night will be your job.

    Here look at this while you think about it.”

    “So the threat is add me to to this crap of a book?”

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