Realistic or Modern Things Are Happening In Covington (STILL ACCEPTING)

[sprouhtt]

POSTING IS NOW OPEN! (11/06)
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As we follow in on this journey, the supernatural beings are starting to come out of the shadows, but not completely, and began to live a 'normal' life. The normal life of not getting caught by humans and hunters as well, they have been doing so for many years. In Chapter 1, a new threat arises where people are disappearing and dying.

Chapter 1: The First Taste​

Recently people have been coming up missing, it was just one person a month, but now there is a pattern that is starting to show. This killer is becoming quite messy, leaving behind a trail of unconscious or almost-dead bodies. The town is becoming suspicious and attention is being raised on whether the Mayor is going to do anything to stop these killings from happening. The Hunters have concluded what they've guessed, while the investigators of the town have ruled out that the markings and the way the victims are left, is an animal predator. Some say it's a wolf, but others say it's more than that; it leaves its victims almost without a pint of blood in their body or slashes them across the chest.

The creatures that have kept themselves in the shadows for so long are finally coming out to see whether they can put an end to this, so that suspicion is not raised any more than it is now. The town killer is amongst the people of Covington, GA and it doesn't help that a newbie to town has washed up down by the river. The Mayor has issued that everyone stays indoors after 5 pm until they can put a rest to these deaths and disappearances. Though the young hearts of Covington have other plans and what better way to defy the curfew than a lake party? Everyone from school is there having a good time and enjoying the company that they came with or found. Music is loud, the moon is full and at its highest in the sky, and the alcohol is either in a keg or mixed with a bunch of other toxins that will leave anyone who drinks it on the floor.

Spoiler: LINKS

INTEREST CHECK

 

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CHAPTER ONE: THE FIRST TASTE​

In this chapter, my character will be the first one up. She is just figuring out her newfound identity, and since she was always kept away from everyone, and led a life of secrecy because of her parents. But now, after coming back to town after all these years, all of the suspicions soon start to point at her, especially since they found her down by the river/lake unconscious with blood on her... but the thing is, it wasn't her blood. Will she get caught or become part of the unsolved mysteries at Covington?

The townspeople are preparing for a night out on the town, and some of the younger crew are going down to the lake for a bonfire just to get away from it all. It was supposed to be a secret, but everyone was too excited to contain the secret, and even though there is a curfew, they still risked it. Who's going to stop them from having fun!? This town is known for its excitement, and horror not to mention the legacy that runs in this town as the Gates to Hell! But what they don't know, is that something is lurking in the dark and about to make an appearance tonight.

This chapter will also see betrayal, blackmail, action, and anything else that may come up.

Spoiler: MY TOWNIES

meepster Nothingness redraider Find it Find it Office Worker Craig erzulie StormWolf AI10100

 

[Nothingness]

Xiang Yun

The Phoenix

Chief of Police

Covington, Cemetery

With the scratch of the back of his head, a male who had been dressed from head to toe in full police gear wandered down the pavement of the sidewalk provided by the city in the cemetery. Xiang who had been picked up a phone call from a few of the locals had stated there was some ruckus going on in the graveyard, and people were concerned of the possibility there were graverobbers defiling people's resting places for their treasures that they wanted buried with them. Of course, with the sun slowly setting, many of the officers had begun to return to their homes if not were already on duty dealing with other matters at hand; this left Xiang to deal with the situation. While he would've preferred to simply get in contact with another officer to have them do the rounding patrol around the area, he knew removing them from their current post was only going to possibly add a bunch of paperwork that he would have to go through at some point later on anyway.

So, rather than have to go through the whole process of filling out and eventually filing the paperwork, Xiang took it upon himself to deal with the patrol. His squad car had been outside the cemetery while had had walked through the surrounding area. The walk mostly consisted mainly of silence for a good while, as he expected, honestly, he hadn't believed in the possible fact that someone would go so low as to defile other people's graves for a possible chance of treasure or possibly a measly few hundreds of dollars' worth of jewelry.
Right as Xiang had prepared to make a complete 180-turn to head back to his squad car though, the sounds of chatter immediately caught his attention. "Shh...! Shush will you...? Someone's going to hear us...! Just hurry up and keep digging...!" One male voice spoke in a slightly louder than usual hushed tone. "I know..I know...get off my back already...!" A second male hushed voice spoke up immediately after, following the sounds of shovels scooping up dirt before being tossed aside.

Exhaling a deep sigh, Xiang shook his head before rubbing his temple with his index and thumb. "And here I thought...I could go get some sleep." Speaking to himself in an agitated tone, he proceeded towards the sound of the voices. By the time he reached their location, he just so happened to have ended up sneaking up on the two from behind while he leaned his shoulder against the large tree that had grown over the gravestone. Rather than speak up immediately, he simply stood there and watched as the two males who appeared to be no older than a couple of boys in their late teens.
"So, who's the unlucky fella ya boys digging up?" Rather than immediately bust the two of them, Xiang played along smoothly to see where it would get him before deciding to go any further. "Oh, just some old geezer! Heard he was packing loads of cash and wanted to make sure to be buried with him." One of the teens spoke up first. "Yeah, and something about letting his kids learn the hard way how to make money, rather than give them his fortune when he died...hey, if you want to get in on this, feel free to grab a shov--" As the second teenager spoke, he only just realized that when the two of them had begun to dig, it was only the two of them, so who was this new voice.

Immediately, as the two teenagers paused their digging, they slowly looked up from the large hole they had been digging only to find Xiang looking over them with a smile and raised brows. "Hey boys. So, how shall we do this? The easy way...or the hard way?" As he questioned the two, their faces immediately went pale at the thought of being arrested before they handfuls of dirt at him before rapidly climbing out of the hole and rushing in opposite directions to escape from him. "So...the hard way, huh..?"

Code by Serobliss

 

[redraider]

She couldn't breathe. She panicked, but no sound came out. Then... darkness.

Waking up. More darkness. Still night? No, something different. Not her bed. Dirt, so much dirt. Oh, no. Oh, no. Scrambling, digging upward. Still couldn't breathe, but no desire to. No need to. Interesting, that. Five minutes, ten, fifteen. No way she should have survived this long buried alive. But what if- what if not buried alive? Still digging, but slower, more measured. Dirt moving easier now, less weight on top. Finally, a finger breaks through to the surface. Then a hand. Voices. Not at her grave, the one next to it. Clearing the filth from her eyes. Behind her, a tombstone. Claire Delacroix. A name. An identity. Words, from a dead mouth. "Hello."

 

[Office Worker Craig]

Name: Johnathon Pollock

Species: Human

Role: Hunter Leader

Location: Canine Training Range (In the forest)

Johnathon fired his crossbow, letting the bolt fly like an eagle diving into its prey. In a matter of half a second, the bolt pierced through the wool target, making it one of the many direct hits Johnathon has accomplished.

Of course, his ability to hit a still target means nothing out there, when he’s fighting a beast twice his size and twice as ferocious. Or worse, a witch that can cast wicked sorcery.

He’s only been within the town of Covington for a couple of weeks, but he adjusted quite well. He was able to meet up with the hunters. Some were welcoming of his presence, but there were those who were more hesitant due to his violent reputation. The town was unlike any town he had worked in before. Here the existence of the supernatural was a known secret. There were those who were ignorant of the fact but there were those who were aware. They either pretended to not know or simply didn’t care.

Despite his wishes, he couldn’t just go around and slaughter these creatures among them, the leash of the Canine Compact was too tight.

“So…what are we going to do with this beast,” Craig said. “We can’t let it run around for long.” Craig was a hunter who was way past his prime. He had grown fat and lazy, though his skills were intact just enough to keep him from being useless. His strength and willingness to get things done dirty make him a vital hunter.

“Craig’s right,” Thomas responded. “I do not see why we haven’t formed a hunting party and mobilized into town.” Thomas was young, barely out of high school, and yet he had quickly made a reputation of himself as a hunter. He was clever, skilled, and a master of weaponry.

Craig was the brawn while Thomas was the brain. Johnathon had chosen these two as his main acquaintance, not only because of they were skilled, but because they had a good reputation among the hunters of Covington. If he develops a decent relationship with them, he hopes to ease the tension of hunters who were hesitant about his role as their new leader.

“Tell me, what is that we’re hunting?” Johnathon questioned.

“Could be a vampire with the way it sucked up blood,” Craig responded.

“But with the ferocity of the attacks, it could also very well be a werewolf.” Thomas objected.

Johnathon smiled. “How does one hunt a prey so blindly? If you’re preparing to hunt a wolf, you may be underpowered when the prey is a bear. If you’re preparing to hunt a werewolf, you may see yourself uselessly firing silver bullets against a speedy vampire.

“A hunter must always be a step ahead of their prey, but since we aren’t sure what exactly we’re hunting, they’re the ones who are a step ahead of us. Do I make myself clear?”

Thomas and Craig stood there quietly at first, finally, they nodded in agreement.

“Good to see we all agree. Oh, and I heard that there’s going to be some sort of gathering by the lake?”

“Yes, from south of this area. Sounds like it's going to be a bunch of teenagers.” Thomas informed.

“Then you’ll fit right in, sneak in and talk around, see if you can find any interesting info.”

“Wait what-“

“Craig, let’s head to Sunny’s bar. See if we can squeeze any info there.”

“Can I at least get a drink while we’re there?” Craig pleaded.

“You can get all the drink you want.”

 

[StormWolf]

Arthur McTroy

Ironpelt

Leader of the Pack

Covington, Elkhorn Brewery

To say that it was a day like any other would be a bold-faced lie. Sure, the nine-to-five grind was the same, but the newspapers had a whiff of death on the page, and the ink-stamped contents seemed to cast an equally dark cloud over the town and everyone in it.

Arthur McTroy was reading over his morning issue of the Covington Chronicler with a dour expression, his thick brows stitched into a frown as he nursed his coffee from a plain mug, chipped at the lip and stamped with “Probably Whiskey” over the otherwise nondescript face. He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he contemplated just how hard he wanted to slap the shit out of the so-called journalist that wrote the article covering the murders. Sensationalist tabloids and talking heads on the television and radio all had plenty to say without a single shred of sense between them. While the attacks were certainly grisly, they weren’t the work of a wolf.

Arthur would know better than most.

Still, whatever it was had been stacking bodies, hunting in his territory without so much as a proclamation or a how-do-you-do. There was a decorum in the hidden world, something that separated the monsters from the animals, and Arthur was always a stickler for manners and tradition.

Except when it came to vampires. Rights were reserved for the living.

“I’m headed to school, daddy,” a voice called from behind Arthur, tearing him out of his musings and ruminations. Cassie had bundled up for the weather, her red-brown hair stuffed under a school-branded beanie. Her green eyes glinted up at Arthur as she came in for a quick side-hug, earning a firm squeeze back from her father.

“Have a good day, Peanut. Get back by five, okay?” Arthur said in a low, warm drawl.

“Oh come on, you’re gonna make me work after a whole day of school?” Cassie groaned, thrusting her lip out.

“Curfew,” Arthur stated simply, stabbing at the front page with one thick finger. “Back by five, you can avoid bussin’ tables if you do your homework in the loft.”

“Uh-huh, you got it! See you later!”

“At five o’ clock, little miss!”

“Loveyoubyeeeee!” Cassie shouted as she flew down the stairs.

Christ on a cracker, Arthur thought to himself, sucking down the rest of his coffee in one big gulp. Wiping the errant drippings from the bristling hairs on his chin, Arthur snatched his vulgar apron off the peg by the door and set himself to task. The brisket wasn’t going to smoke itself, and he had a business to run, and the routine schedule was probably seven kinds of fucked.

Nothing gets folks day-drinking like a killer-induced curfew. He wasn’t going to complain too much. A heavier hand with the pour would make up for the loss of the dinner rush.

* * *​

The lunch-blitz came and went at the Elkhorn, along with the expected crowds of twenty-somethings who seemed more inclined to snap photos of their food than eat the damn thing. But they sucked down mimosas and bloody marys like a fish gulps water, so Arthur kept his curmudgeoning at a minimum. However, there was always at least one entitled loudmouth who took issue with Arthur’s food policy.

Large tables got properly bussed. If you were a solo diner and you had a pair of working legs, you could damn well grab your own food from the kitchen window. Most folks didn’t seem to mind, but it always tickled Arthur when some post-menopausal harpy trudged up to the counter to complain about having to get their own food when they took the time and effort to go all that way to make an ass of themselves. Arthur had a cork board by the restrooms dedicated to customers like that: Pricks of the Week was more for the staff than anyone else, but the notations of the occasional passers-by always gave Arthur a chuckle.

Shadows had grown long as light faded, and Arthur found himself constantly checking his phone. He knew Cassie had her clubs and extracurriculars that kept her after school, but the encroaching late hour creeped over ARthur’s skin like a scorpion.

One text wouldn’t hurt, right? Just to check in.

>Hey peanut. What’s your ETA?

Agonizing minutes dragged by without a reply. She was probably just chatting up her friends on the bus. Arthur pocketed his phone and got back to wiping down the bar, guiding the occasional to-go order or food-delivery to the appropriate kitchen window.

One by one, tables were vacated and cleared, the wait staff clocking out in a steady trickle. Half past five, fice-forty-five, six o’clock, and no Cassie. The sleeves of Arthur’s flannel shirt had been rolled up to his elbows to keep them dry, but now he felt the hair on his steel-cable forearms itch and stand on end as the Wolf stirred. Thick fingers drummed at the lacquered countertop of the bar as Arthur’s stormy gaze peered into the middle distance of nothing. Dark whispers slithered down his limbic system, taunting the beast with the vilest worst-case scenarios. Wood curled up under the scrape of Arthur’s nails as he took a long, deep breath.

Cassie hadn’t answered any of his texts or calls. She had to have known better, right? It wasn’t like Arthur had an inordinate number of rules. Hell, he even turned a blind eye when he spied a beer missing or one of the schnapps was a sniff short of a full pour. He’d been a dumbshit teenage once upon a time as well, and he permitted her little explorations or rebellions, but this was something else.

Was she hurt? Taken? Was she with a boy?! Or girl?! Or…

Arthur shook his head and pinched his nose, gender politics and shotgun-dad paranoia aside, Cassie wasn’t home, and that didn’t settle with him one bit. Curfew be damned, Arthur was an apex predator; the big bad wolf in Covington, and his cub was out there in the wilds with a rival hunter on the loose.

Arthur could abide neither. He fetched his 1911 and holster from his gunsafe, clipping the barking iron to his hip. He didn’t have a carry permit one way or the other, but he didn’t much care. Snatching his jacket and grabbing his keys, Arthur locked up the Elkhorn on his way out. If Cassie found her way home while he was out searching for her, she had a key of her own.

The old Bronco took some coaxing, but the engine started purring after a brief fit of coughing. Keeping a window rolled down so he could draw scents off the air, Arthur pealed out of the Elkhorn parking lot with a shrill shriek of rubber.

The Wolf must hunt.

Code by Serobliss