Prehistoric History (Full Version)

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mastin2 -> Prehistoric History (7/10/2008 10:44:42)

Prehistoric History
Modern Hidden Secrets



Prologue
“The Bar Fight”




“Sir, what are you doing in here?” a bartender asks as a man who is large in size walks in.

He merely stares at the bartender with his giant red eyes before stating, “I need to rest.” His gaze is paralyzing; the bartender can sense a cold heart within. However, even so, he has to assume the man is a customer who is willing to pay. Once sitting down to a drink, the man spots a woman across the bar, sitting alone to eat a lovely lunch. He keeps his eyes on her, slowly drinking what the bartender had given him. Since he had not ordered a drink, the bartender gave him the only free thing he had to offer: water. But that was more than enough. The cold drink sooths his senses; his tongue is refreshed and his throat revitalized. But he is not even paying attention to the refreshing glass of ice cold water. The woman is what he is keeping his eyes on.

Not interested in her, but something is compelling him to her. Perhaps it is danger. He does not know. But something about her, he senses, is special. And that means trouble. For entering the bar, there are three figures with equally large eyes, all yellow. They remain unseen to the woman; the man, however, recognizes them instantly. He instantly focuses his attention on these three men, knowing that they mean trouble and that the woman is very likely their target.

As if to confirm this, they ignore the bartender; they appear to be moving towards the woman. The man puts his drink on the table before intercepting them. He gives them a harsh look, demanding, “I don't know what you're doing here, Varacet Members, but stay away from here and I shall allow you to live.”

“Relax, David, we are merely here for that woman,” One of the ‘Varacet’ men replies, apparently the leader. His smirk is deadly and sinister in nature; if the man identified as David seems cold-hearted, this man is a murderer. By now, almost all eyes in the bar are on the four men standing in the center of the building, knowing there is an atmosphere for a fight at hand.

“All the more reason to stop you.” With those words, David forces a blade out of his hands, the hilt seemingly made out of bone and the blade seemingly out of scales. The terrifying white scales of the blade overlap, their deadly edges cutting through everything around him. The three opponents match suit, drawing large claws from their arms. Their weapons are daggers in comparison to David’s long blade, but the ‘daggers’ are still large enough to be small, curved swords. The one who had previously spoken to David, however, has a blade just a tad shorter than David’s own; he can be identified as a leader.

The revelation of blades is terrifying to all; the whole bar flees in terror, except for the bartender, not wanting to leave his business. He hides behind the counter, wanting the four to leave his home and life, his bar. The only other to remain is the woman; David had barked an order to her to sit down and remain where she was. Terrified at the figures before here, she had complied, crouching in the corner of her seat.

The four clash, David defending from multiple strikes. David’s strength is obviously higher; all except for the leader of the group seem to fear his power. However, when one aims for the terrified woman, David allows himself to be stuck in the gut to block. He beheads the one who impaled him with a single swipe, showing his reflexes. Even so, the move is still not an equal trade; he has no way to defeat two foes in his condition.

Making matters worse, another one of their kind jumps through the window, shattering the glass as if it were nothing but a shard of ice. And, once again, making the numbers three to one. David curses at his lack of strength, allowing the apparent leader to plunge into his heart and rip it out. His life leaving him, he loses his strength. With his last effort, he strikes at the leader, scarring his right cheek with a claw-like scar. This only ticks the leader off, making him bloodthirsty.

Furthering the brutalization, the Varacet leader rips out most of David’s organs; he is clearly dead. But the scar is a painful reminder of David’s ferocity to the very last moment. His blade crumbles; the scales’ bond with each other is somehow broken with their wielder’s death.

Then, the leader laughs before muttering, “She isn’t worth the effort. Let’s leave.” With those words, the three leave the door, only a terrified woman, brilliant white scales with a bone hilt, a damaged bar, and two corpses behind…




mastin2 -> RE: Prehistoric History (7/10/2008 10:46:55)

Chapter One:
“Facts Revealed”


The police had come to clean up the mess, interrogating any who could be traced to the event. The woman and the bartender remained through the whole encounter, so had been held for questioning the longest. When all was said and done, the police told the woman that—for her safety—she would need to be put under protection. Reluctantly, she agreed. She didn’t know what had happened; she had no idea why they were after her.

“Okay, just for the record one more time: what’s your name?”

“I don’t remember what my name originally was. Years ago, I woke up with no memory of my past, who my parents were, anything. I was just left there. However, I was in possession of an ID card, which I presume to be my name—Sarah Jackson.”

“So you do not know if you have any relatives?”

“Yes.”

“How long ago was this?”

“At least ten years. While I don’t know my age, my ID showed that I was sixteen at the time.”

“What occupation are you currently employed in?”

“I’m an actor most of the time. I have a part-time job at the bar as a waitress.”

“Now, tell me: what happened just before you entered the bar?”

“I had just finished the 9:30 play I was in and went to get some lunch. The bar is only a few blocks away from the theater, so I decided to walk.”

“To your knowledge, was there anyone following you?”

“I wasn’t paying attention. To me, it was just like any other day. I entered the bar and sat down to get a bite to eat.”

“And what time was that?”

“11:30, sir.”

“After you sat down and ordered your lunch, what happened next?”

“The man entered the bar, sat down, and wanted a drink. He didn’t say much else. If he did, I really wasn’t paying attention.”

“What happened after that?”

“Three men came into the bar. The man stood up and intercepted them. I wasn’t paying attention to what they said; I only caught a few words such as the man’s name, David, and ‘Varacet’. I don’t even know what that means!”

“And then what?”

“I don’t know how, but ‘David’ drew a sword from his arm.”

“How did he do that?”

“I don’t know. It is as if it had been embedded within his arm. It tore itself out and he held it in his hand. Shortly afterward, his arm had fully healed.”

“His arm had fully healed?”

“Yes. I do not know how. It should be impossible, but that’s what I saw.”

“What happened after that?”

“The three men tore blades out of their hands, but the one who had been in a conversation with David drew it from his arm.”

“And let me guess: their hands and arm healed?”

“Yes.”

“What happened next?”

“All the people in the bar panicked and left. The only ones left were the four men in the center, the bartender, and me. He probably didn’t want to leave his home.”

“Why didn’t you leave?”

“David barked an order at me to sit down. His intimidation was strong and I feared for my life. I did not want to die, so I obeyed. I felt like he would kill me if I didn’t.”

“What about after that?”

“David fought with those three men. Eventually, one of them began charging at me as if he was trying to kill me. I was afraid that I’d die, but then David intercepted him and got stabbed through his gut. He then chopped the man’s head off. I was terrified and dared not look.”

“If this is too much for you, we can stop.”

“No; I’m fine. After that, I heard glass shattering and saw another man resembling the three who had entered the bar join the fight. I wanted to look away, but my eyes were fixed on the scene. David stumbled from his injury and the man with the longer blade ripped out David’s heart. I closed my eyes and forced myself to turn away from the bloody scene. I heard one last slash of a sword and a cry of pain from the man, then a terrible ripping sound. I couldn’t watch it. After that, I head the same man mutter ‘She isn’t worth the effort. Let’s leave.’”

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“Positive.”

“When you opened your eyes and looked again, what did you see?”

“The three men leaving the bar. On the ground, I saw David ripped to shreds; I think that they must have ripped out half of his vital organs. I saw a bunch of blood; it overwhelmed me. I cried, nearly shouted, at the brutality. The weapon that David had used lay on the ground, crumpled into dozens of different pieces.”

“Did anything happen after that?”

“The police arrived. I blacked out and woke up in the hospital. From there, once I was cleared, I was brought here.”

“Thank you for your time, Miss Jackson.”

“You’re welcome. But what do I do now?”

“We’re not fully sure. If some homicidal men were willing to nearly kill you and brutally murder a man, then your life is in danger. We can’t exactly protect you in here, either. Witness Protection may be your only option.”

Sarah stands up, a single tear coming from each of her blue eyes. She runs her hand gently through her brown hair, still struggling to understand what had happened earlier. The silky smooth surface of her hair helps comfort her, relaxing despite the circumstances around her. She pauses for a second, before responding, “Alright. But I’d like to stay here a little longer. Can I stay here for two days?”

“The sooner you leave, the better, ma’am. I will have to check with my superiors. But it should be alright.”

“Thank you, officer. Thank you.”

The man leaves for a few minutes, coming back with the reply that she has thirty-two hours before she should leave. In that time, she can stay at the station or return home with an escort. For the night, she chooses to stay at the police station, convinced that it is safe. The next morning, however, the body of a policeman can be found at the station, brutalized and partially eaten.

“W…What could do this? Those bite marks—they are unlike anything I’ve seen before. There are dagger slashes all over the body as well. What kind of a monster could do this damage?” a police officer, clearly outraged and slightly afraid, asks.

“No, officer, I do not believe that those are dagger marks—they’re claws. This must have been an animal to do this,” the supervisor of the police station corrects, also clearly disturbed at this.”

“B…But how is that possible? We’re in the middle of Boston! No animal can be set loose in here! Even if that somehow happened, then how could it have sneaked up on the officer and done…done THIS!”

“I don’t know. But those marks are nothing a human could leave.”

“What about the bloody note the officer was holding? It was too covered in blood for us to read anything, but it could’ve been important. He had time to see his attackers and tried to write something down. It could have been his warning to us.”

“Or left by the attacker. Did you read the back side of the note? The side that is written in the blood of the officer? It is just one word: Varacet.”

The revelation by the supervisor is disturbing to everyone in the room, the most of all to Sarah. “I’m afraid, Sarah Jackson, that you will not be staying with us for the other twenty-four hours. If they could do this, then they can attack you anywhere we put you. You have four hours to get out of this city for your own good.”

“I…I understand, sir,” Sarah answers. She is sweating heavily; her forehead’s pale skin is covered with a fine layer of the liquid beads. An escort guides her out of the building, but is met with another man. A civilian. He merely smirks at the two, but stops them dead with that smile—Sarah recognizes that kind of smile. And then his eyes—the green emeralds shine unnaturally bright in those eyes; Sarah is paralyzed with fear at this man.

“Relax, won’t ya? By the way you’re looking at me, I’d think you would think that I’m gonna kill you. I’m not goin’ to cause any harm, miss. Continue on.”

He smiles again, not being able to help letting out a slight chuckle at his statement. The two remain exactly where they are, not bothering to move. The man runs his right hand through his ear-length brown hair, rubbing it as if the encounter really was casual. But his eyes tell the two that he is there for a reason. “Your eyes…”

“Yea, I know, I know. They’re different. Wanna talk ‘bout it? I’m sure you’re fairly curious ‘bout what’s happening around you.”

“What do you know?”

“Eh, I’m not exactly perfect, but I imagine I can pretty much answer any question you have. I’ve got nowhere in particular to go, so I’ll be more than happy to follow ya where you’re going. By the looks of things, I’d assume home. Did they attack you last night?” Sarah tries to keep her mouth shut, but her expression gives it away. “I see, then. They did attack you, didn’t they?”

“How’d you know that?”

“Oh, just a lucky guess. A bit of intuition was involved in that guess, and then there’s a feeling that I got from you. You’re not exactly normal, so I can assume the Varacet are after ya.”

“Then you’re not with them?”

“‘Course not. They’re methods are brutal. They’re criminals. Me? Nah, I’m just…well, never mind. I won’t lie to you by sayin’ that I’m human. Not entirely true, though it used to be. Just continue walking and I’ll explain it.”

The officer begins to speak up, objecting to this. “Miss Jackson, I recommend we continue on—without this man.”

“Oh, please. She’s not gonna listen to ya. Too curious. ‘Tis in everyone’s nature, I guess. Doesn’t matter if you’re human or not. We’re all curious. Oh, and sorry for ignoring ya, officer. What’s your name?”

“Officer Richard Richardson the Third. I know that’s a little long, so you can just call me Officer Richardson.”

“A bit formal even then, no?”

“I may seem a little militaristic, yes. If you insist, when I am off-duty, you can call me Richey.”

“That’s the spirit. So, Richey—”

“Officer Richard.”

“Officer Richard. You object to me goin’ with ya?”

“Yes.”

“Well, then, perhaps you’ll reconsider when I tell ya this—are you aware that there are five, nasty-looking brutes heading this way? I imagine they’re not exactly friendly in nature. You’re her escort, but what if they weren’t human? What if they were exactly like the thing that killed your comrade? D’ya think you could take even one of ‘em out? Now, I suggest we run before they notice we’re gone.”

“…How do you know this?”

“Like I said, I’ll explain as we’re running!”

“We still don’t know your name.”

As the three begin to take off, the man apologizes. “Sorry. My bad. ‘Name’s Steven Loch. And I am here to save your life.”




mastin2 -> RE: Prehistoric History (7/10/2008 10:48:22)

Chapter Two:
“Science’s worst”


The two had run with Steven, but neither was in any condition to ask questions—Steven’s speed made him go faster than they would normally go. He didn’t even know where they were going, yet was going faster. So when they eventually did reach Sarah’s house, he had passed it and took a couple of seconds to come back.

“So you live in this apartment?”

“Yes. It has been my home for most of the years I have had my memory.”

“I see. Lead the way to your room and I’ll answer any questions you have until they find your exact location.”

Once they reach the room, Sarah opens it with her key and allows them both in.

“Alright, then, shoot. These quarters will do nicely for about ten minutes.”

“Well, the first question I have,” Richard starts, “would be why do you think they will follow us?”

“I don’t think, Richey, I know. They have increased senses of smell, so will track us. Not only that, but they seem to have a sixth sense to be able to detect people like me. As do I them. That’s how I knew they were coming. But for some reason, I’m also getting the same sense out of Sarah. Yet she definitely isn’t one of them, and probably not one of my kind.”

“The next would be…what exactly ARE you, anyway?”

“And I’d like to know why you said you once were human,” Sarah adds.

“The two are related. You can blame science for it all. More specifically, Genetics. Two scientists thought they had discovered a way to possibly improve the human body, or something like that. I wasn’t around back then to know. You’d have to ask some of my friends for that. They were given government funding. They experimented with DNA from ancient dinosaurs on test subjects and were able to create hybrids—those with the powers of their original species along with those of the dinosaurs. Eventually, human test-subjects were authorized. They were given that power. However, most couldn’t bear the changes and died. Those that lived were incredibly powerful—increased power, strength, and the like. But only a fraction maintained their memory from before.

“The government was almost ready to shut the project down. But the scientists devised a possible solution—use a combination of human, dinosaur, reptile, and bird DNA to grow one of these people for humane purposes. From it, they were able to create a few successful ‘type two’ hybrids. Eventually, it was decided that to get the greatest power possible, the reptile gene should be dropped, leaving only bird and dinosaur with human DNA. ‘Type Three’ was born. This is where things went wrong. All those grown this way were unstable—violent, bloodthirsty, instinctive killers. And they were just as smart as a human. So they were able to escape. They killed almost everyone at the facility. Only a few of the earlier type one and twos were able to survive by learning how to kill and escaping with their lives. These were the earliest of my comrades.

“The government shut the program down. They deemed it too costly and inhumane. The two scientists had also managed to survive. One went insane. He took as much as he could and ran away. There, he furthered his research into the bird/dinosaur DNA to make even more effective soldiers, which he labeled ‘Type Four’. These were humans—mostly criminal volunteers and a few unwilling subjects—injected with the bird/dinosaur DNA. He and his type threes and fours became the Varacet. He recorded everything he would need to know in case he lost his memory and injected himself with an overdose of this, becoming the leader of his monsters. He deemed himself the ‘Perfect Type Five’.

“The other scientist, however, predicted this. He stole whatever was left and he left to create his own organization. He knew it was against the law, but also knew that, without his help, there would be no way to stop the Varacet. He theorized that the reptilian DNA stabilized the subjects while the bird DNA drove them insane. So he tried pure reptile/dinosaur DNA. The result was David. He was cold-hearted and almost a killer himself. But if you got to know him, he had a heart and was good natured.

“He was labeled ‘Type Alpha’, our strongest of the strong. He was a human, like most of us. He, however, had lost his memory. Again, like most of us. The scientist continued his research, injecting small amounts of Bird DNA. Eventually, he gained the perfect result, Types ‘Beta’ and ‘Epsilon’. Type Beta is humans who willingly chose to undergo the procedure. Like me. Type Epsilon is those who are grown from birth. Injected into things like baby rats and evolve into what they become. Both are about equal in power.

“The thing is, we stay at about the same power levels. It’s not a problem we can fix. The only way to keep moralities and humanity is to set our power levels. We start out MUCH stronger than any Varacet. But they slowly become stronger over time. Their ferocity, their instincts, makes them pure monsters. Every day they live, they become slightly more powerful. But even so, their power is far lower than ours, in most cases. The growth is also fairly slow; it would take years for any of them to match us.

“We’ve been fighting them for some time, now. About seven years, give or take. I’ve been around for about five of those years. The good scientist has managed to make is so that 70% of the volunteers retain their memories from before the procedure. But, just in case, they are given the chance to record whatever pieces of their previous lives they want to remember, just in case. For if they are told something, nine of out ten will remember it.”

“What happened to you?”

“I was amongst the other thirty. From what I’m told, I volunteered because I wanted to lose memories of my past, apparently tragic. I recorded only what I wished to know and remembered just that. Which ended up being just about a year or two before I underwent the procedure. I guess I really had been through some pretty bad times. I, however, have no wish to remember them. If I forgot them, there was a reason I did.

“Anyway, back to the matter at hand: There is something very disturbing about your encounter at the bar: Like I said, David was our strongest fighter. I am considered one of our strongest and still was out of his league. None of their members should have been able to touch him, not even if he was defending you, Sarah. So there are three very disturbing questions that need to be answered fast, but that I know you cannot give the answers to:

“One: Why did David let himself die? I seriously doubt he would just be killed by members that weak. He must have either been severely weakened by something, or let himself be stricken down. So the question remains: Why?

“Two: Why are the Varacet after you? What significance could you possibly hold to them? I admit I get a strange feeling about you, but this is far beyond normal circumstances. According to the scientist, there are some rogues who lost their memories after their tests and roamed the land. We find them every once and a while. These are the usual Varacet targets as well. But you are different. You feel different and you were given things those others never had. Also, your age of memory loss is too early. It is vital we find out why they are after you, for your safety.

“But the third is the most vital question of all: Why, in the name of the dinosaurs, did they let you go? They are ruthless and never give up. They will hunt their target down until they capture or kill that target. They have never stopped. This is more of a concern than any others. They were there. The only one to stop them had been killed. They knew that you were their target. So why did they just give up and leave? Until we have this answer, all of our lives are in danger.”

“By the way, whatever happened to your accent,” Sarah asks, lightening the mood a little.

“Oh, that? When I feel like being casual, I am really causal—casual clothin’ like what I’ve got on,” he pauses, showing them his gray long-sleeved hooded jacket and his black sweatpants, “an’ how I talk, amongst other things. There’s really no accent at all. I just feel like speakin’ casually, so, well, I do. When I get serious, I speak more formal. When formality is needed, I also do allow myself to be more formal. ‘Course, not having a good income, I still wear the same clothing.”

The two sigh at this explanation, but Steven again interrupts the mood. “‘Fraid to tell ya this, but d’ya know how I told ya that we have basically a sixth sense? That we can detect each other’s presence? Well, even without me, they could probably find you, Sarah, so I’m sorry to report wherever you were plannin’ to hide will not be safe. Oh, and speakin’ of that matter, they’re gettin’ closer. I recommend we run. I know of a place where their senses cannot penetrate; we will not be found there. Pack what ya need; you’ve got ‘bout three minutes ‘til they come here. Which means that if ya wait ‘til the last second, we’ll have to take the emergency stairs. So the quicker, the better.”

Sarah packs a few things before following Steven out the door, along with Richard. “Sorry t’ drag ya into this, Richey, but you really wanna come with us; ‘doubt you would enjoy gettin’ your heart ripped out.”

“Don’t worry. I told my boss that I’d protect Sarah until she’s definitely safe. She isn’t safe right now, or, at least, not to my satisfaction.”

“‘Guess that I should be offended by that, but don’t worry; I understand. Ya can’t trust me yet; for all you know, I’m lying and am actually a homicidal maniac out to kill ya.”

“Precisely.”

When the three leave the building, they head for a car, at which point, Steven asks, “We need t’ get outta ‘ere fast. We have no car, ‘les you have one parked nearby.” He pauses and watches as they shake their heads. “I could outrun them by myself, but not with you to worry about. They only way we’re gonna have a chance is if we use a car.”

“So, basically, you are asking if we should break into a car and hotwire it?” Richard asks, met with a nod from Steven.

“No other way t’ do it. You’re the law officer; d’ya think we can borrow it?”

Richard is faced with a dilemma, but eventually agrees that it would be best.

Steven breaks the window open, entering the car and urging Richard and Sarah into the back seat. But instead of hotwiring the car, Steven rips into his skin and removes a small pick-like bone.

“Sorry that I forgot t’ warn ya ‘bout that. But hotwiring takes too long. This is much quicker,” he tells them, inserting the pick into the keyhole. Richard laughs at how he believes that will not work, but to his amazement, the car starts. “We have some pretty abnormal powers, remember? Bone picks can fit into practically any keyhole an’ pick the lock.”

Flooring it, Steven dodges traffic and heads for the outskirts of Boston, heading for a large forest outside. “We’re gonna violate a dozen laws by the end of the day, but ‘tis better than facing five of their brutes. Even I can’t handle that kind o’ force.”

Richard lets out a shrug; he is a police officer and, if he was doing his job, should have arrested Steven for questioning. But the circumstances, he knows, are far from ordinary, so he just lets it be.

“We’re gonna be there in a few minutes, but we’ll have t’ walk for a while. I had forgotten how normal humans are slower, so we’ll have t’ make do with your speed.”

“How long will we stay in that safe zone?”

“‘Couple hours, at the least. ‘Could be up t’ two days before they give up. But we should be safe by next mornin’. I’d say night, but that’s when those vultures are at their prime. ‘Tis when they attacked yesterday, no?”

“Agreed. As long as there are proper supplies.”

“Don’t worry. There are enough supplies there t’ last a small army for a week. We’re only three in number an’ it’s gonna be a lot less than a week.”

“Where do we go after that?”

“‘Could go to my HQ. You’d be safe there. If they attack full-force t’ try an’ get you back, we eliminate them then and there. Likewise, they probably aren’t that stupid and won’t even try. But we need to rest for a while; we’ve gotta go to the dessert first.”

The car pulls over at a small forest park, where Steven urges them to get out. “Don’t worry,” he comments, “This area also has ways t’ dissipate our scent. They won’t find us. Never have, never will.”

With his urging, the two leave the car and follow Steven into the forest. “We’ll rest ‘til tomorrow and then head out. The forest greets them nicely; the mid-afternoon weather produces a nice, warm environment inside the evergreen forest. The damp air keeps them fairly comfortable; every one of them feels at ease. Tensions that had been in Sarah and Richard’s hearts have faded; their pulses have returned to normal as their minds relax. They quell their thirst with the water spring inside of the little forest, relieved and refreshed. Steven shows them the food storage as well.

“While most of our people are pure carnivores now, we do still possess the ability to eat vegetables. Some of us enjoy it. Not me, but others do. Likewise, there’s plenty of vegetables for ya if you don’t like meat.”

The two choose their meals and eat them within a few minutes, then talk a little more with Steven. They really have nothing else to do; with light still shining through it is impossible to get to sleep until later.

“So, Steven, how exactly did you know all of that information that I only told the people at the police station?”

“I have increased hearing. Combined with a little child’s toy that amplifies hearing through walls and the proper height, I could hear ya. Sorry t’ spy on ya, but ‘twas just following orders.”

“I see. About how many of you are there?”

‘Oh, I dunno. Probably ‘couple thousand. But most of us are across the world. There are no more than five-hundred in this area of the United States, less than two hundred at the base. Our numbers are slowly increasin’, but the Varacet have double our number in this area of the United States. ‘Course their numbers aren’t double what ours are, but they focus most of their force ‘round the US.”

“What are their numbers exactly, then?”

“Again, I dunno. Probably ‘bout the same as ours. But they are growin’ faster than us. They have the advantage of both getting criminal volunteers as well as abductin’ people. Eventually, they probably will have double our numbers. We hope t’ take ‘em down before then. The government is a slight help; we do have a few friends there still. But even so, we’re slowly losin’ the fight. We need help; we need a miracle. For all we know, you could be that hope. Or maybe you’re just another case.”

“We’ll just have to wait and see, right?” Sarah speaks up, guessing how he’d finish.

“Precisely.”

The three exchange some more information about each other and the events happening, eventually waiting for sundown. When the sun’s brilliant orange colors vanished into the blue night sky, the three fell asleep, hoping to be ready for the next day…




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