Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 132437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
And again.
There were so many files. The list literally just kept coming, to the point where he stopped tracking the months and just watched the years go by.
“Jesus… Christ,” he whispered.
When the end finally came, he saw that the date was only some three decades ago. This database, these reports, were just the most modern part of the record.
He let the burner drop into his lap, closed his eyes, and tilted his face into his hand. Hundreds… no, thousands of engagements with the enemy, of death and fighting, of war. Decades that led into centuries that bled into eras and eons.
He had known what Vishous and the others did, but those were merely facts.
This was a mere keyhole into the history of the Black Dagger Brotherhood, and it was ugly and terrible, and he had no idea where they put the memories in their heads. What he had witnessed the night before had consumed parts of his mind, and the violence, the smells, the horrific details, and the sorrow-filled big picture were still there. It was always going to be there. His brain had been rewired from the moment he’d stepped out into that alley and scented the blood.
Where did they store the horror.
Allhan opened the first of the scene reports, and he was not surprised Vishous was the one who’d filed it. The number was 00001, the date was some thirty-three years ago, and the address was in the older, wealthy part of Caldwell known as Millionaire’s Row. The time was after midnight, and there were only two names listed under “Personnel on Scene.”
Fritz and Wrath, son of Wrath, sire of Wrath.
For “Enemy” there was just one. Lash.
“Injuries” was left blank. When Allhan got to the next line, he frowned and had to zoom in with his thumb and forefinger.
Death(s): Wrath, son of Wrath, sire of Wrath.
Allhan recoiled. “What the… hell.”
His eyes went over the line again and again, but nothing changed. Duh. Maybe this was a prototype? An example for education and training? No. No way Vishous would use the King as a victim example in some kind of how-to.
He’d have put Lash in the coffin.
Allhan stopped trying to argue with what had been listed and went down to the notes section. He didn’t know what to expect. He was shocked.
On the night in question, Fritz Perlmutter proceeded to the address above, upon which a Restricted Access, No Unauthorized Personnel, had been placed. The purpose for the unauthorized visit was to retrieve a young’s blanket for one of the other doggen. Wrath, son of Wrath, sire of Wrath, aware of Mr. Perlmutter’s devotion to his subordinates, immediately proceeded to the address above and heroically intervened just as a pressure-release detonator was triggered by the opening of the rear door of the residence. An ordnance exploded. The King was instantly killed.
Members of the Black Dagger Brotherhood, the Band of Bastards, and associated fighters, including myself, arrived on scene. Dr. Jane Whitcomb proceeded to the address as well and rendered care to Fritz, who sustained very minor injuries, but who was understandably inconsolable.
Human interference was subsequently neutralized and the structure was boarded up by members of the doggen staff.
Fighters reassembled at another location for engagement with the enemy.
Refer to report 00002 for details.
On a personal note, this will henceforth be known as a night of unimaginable tragedy and grief.
Faithfully Submitted,
Vishous, son of the Bloodletter
Allhan reread the report. And after a third time through it, he fumbled around and found his way back to the list of files. He did not understand… anything. The King was very much alive. He had seen the great male with his own eyes at the Audience House, whenever he delivered reports or documents over to Saxton. Moreover, Wrath had been alive for the last three decades, conducting audiences, ruling over his citizens. Allhan knew this because his father, like a lot of the glymera leaders, had long resented the royal power seat and talked about the need for the monarchy to be abolished.
So Chritophe could take over.
But why would Vishous make up something like that?
In a quest to understand, Allhan went into the next report, the one that was referenced. Report 00002 was twelve screens long and detailed an epic battle involving so many Brothers and fighters that he stopped tracking them. There was a mansion. A run-in with Lash, the leader of the Lessening Society. Explosions and a fire…
He couldn’t comprehend it all as he continued through what was detailed, going screen after screen about who had been involved, and who had been injured, and how many slayers had been killed.
There was no reading that twice. So he went back to the directory and opened the next report. And the next. And…
Vishous had recorded each one. His name was at the bottom for every sign-off, and the descriptions were all the more impactful for their clinical nature and objective specificity. And if the Brother hadn’t been at the scenes himself, fighting and being injured firsthand, then he was clearly interviewing everybody afterward about every single thing that had happened to them.