Riding Hood: Writer Vigilante's Black Hood Remix - Little Red, DT style!

[Shurikane]

00: Introductions

---

The original story ended badly. Very badly. And then, once upon a time, a writer decided that people would like it better, if the story ended well.

Unfortunately for them, that goes against my principles that a completed story should not be tampered with by someone else. Sure, a sequel is great. Maybe a precursor too, while we are at it... But my law says that what is done should remain done, and should never be touched to again.

And so, I will transform myself into the Writing Vigilante, out in the world of Hood to set things straight, even if it takes me thousands of years.

Because after all, it's really entertaining to see what happens, when things don't go the way we all expected, right?

You might think I am breaking my own law, distorting a story already distorted by someone else. You are wrong! He has broken the sword, I repair it, and add my own signature to it.



The Department Twisted signature!

[Shurikane]

01: Scratch Test
Middle Ages - Original Soundtrack



"Where did he go?"

"I've lost him; my horse is exhausted."

The two knights took a look around, but to no avail. They had lost trace of the wolf. The one with the darker armor took a bit of water from his reserve and cleared his throat.

"Seen the little girl anywhere?"

"Saw her running away, but that's pretty much it."

"Couldn't thou go after her? He might try to eat her again for all we know!"

The other hung his head in shame. His superior continued.

"Well, it's too late now. What's done is done. Let's keep going on the main path, and if we don't see either of them, we'll go back to the castle and report to the king about it. This forest is his hunting grounds; I don't want him in any danger, dost thou understand?

"Aye, sire."

"Excuse me!" A voice interrupted.

The two knights turned to face a man hidden in a black cloak.

"Yes, what dost thou desire?" The superior knight said.

"I've come for the wolf; I heard he was in the area, so I thought, you know, maybe..." He fumbled with his words as he showed the bow and arrows he had with him. The knight's eyes opened wide.

"Peasant, I remind thee it's a very, very dangerous wolf out there, the biggest we've seen in years! I do not encourage thee to let him take thy life."

The cloaked man shrugged. "Ahh, it's all right. Sick as I am, what's it gonna do, huh? Come on, you guys go back to the castle like you said earlier, okay? I'll be fine, trust me!"

The knight thought for a moment. At last, he sighed.

"Well, I cannot do anything to stop thee. God bless your soul."

"Thank you, and see you later!"

Before anything else, the man had already wandered into the woods. Both knights ordered their horses forward.

"He had a strange accent." The younger remarked.

"Bah! It's a peasant after all." His superior replied, with a laugh.

---

The cloaked man had arrived next to the house. For all he could see, the footsteps of both the girl and the wolf were there. Good, that meant both were alive and healthy.

He went to the backyard and carefully made his selection among the logs he found. He then proceeded to take the largest one, and use it as his seat. On his lap, he had set up a book of ash gray color. He opened the book to page 393, and drew a line below the last part of a story he had finished (the last line read: "They lived ugly ever after.")

He took off his hood, took a deep breath, and put it back on.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he muttered to himself. "I welcome you to Terminator III: The Little Girl and the Wolf!" He marked a pause. "Or maybe Dog Eat Dog?... Oh,
here!

"I'll call it: Writer Vigilante's Black Hood Remix."

[Akira]

-shakes head-

thats crazy...but if there is more i want to hear it...keep postin shuri...

[Doot]

I am seriously intrigued by this. Bring on the the Grimmer fairy tales!

[Shurikane]

02: Small Beats
Renaissance - Searching for Good Drums

---

"Repent sinners, for the Devil has come!"

The crowd ran for their homes as the tall, cloaked figure marched pride first onto the boulevard. It picked up the religious man by his collar and slammed him on the nearest wall.

"Who are you to call me Devil?" The figure queried behind his mask.

"I... Brother Mathias, Church of the Holy Thunder." The priest replied with a shaking voice.

A pair of black eyes examined him. They were still staring him down when a voice called from an alley.

"HEEL!"

Immediately, Mathias fell on the ground and lost all attention from the twisted figure. In the alley, he could see another cloaked figure, but this one was at least more human in stature. He was muttering something to the giant, much too low for anyone to hear, but when he was done, he accompanied it on the street. This time, the giant didn't attack. He simply walked with his characteristic awkwardness, as if his knees were facing backwards.

But Brother Mathias wasn't at the end of his pains, for out of the human's cloak went a hand, and a finger begging him to come by and by.

"Follow us." The man ordered before turning his back. Ten feet later, he repeated his order, louder, without turning around. Mathias got the message this time and hurried forth.

He stayed on the man's right, trying to avoid the giant as much as possible. The two were deathly quiet, to the point where he thought it was actually the Grim Reaper bringing him to the gates of Hell. No one stayed silent, at least not in this town. Everyone knew each other. Strangers made aquaintances. Even evil people were talked about like daily news, and the evil people replied, angered or humiliated, but this man didn't say word. And the more the seconds went on, the more Mathias felt he just had to say something, anything to at least take some pressure off his heart.

"What are you doing in this town?" He asked.

"None of your business."

"Well, there has to be some special goal of yours for you to want me to accompany you... Is there something you require from the Church? Some help? I sense you might be in some trouble because I've been watching you for--"

"Pipe down, birdmeat!" The giant growled, which was instantly followed by a slap on the back of his head, courtesy the cloaked man.

Mathias gathered his courage once again.

"May I at least know your name?"

The cloaked man chuckled.

"Classic movie question..." He muttered before turning his face towards Mathias' - who didn't have an idea what a movie was, but could really care less right now. "If you really feel like calling us something, then here you go: as of now, my name is Dracula. And my friend here, you can call him Frankeinstein."

"Frankinstin?"

"Frank-aïn-shtaïn."

Mathias nodded, but he wasn't going anywhere...

"Uhh, so, sir Dracula, where are we going exactly?"

Dracula looked at Frankeinstein for a second. The giant looked back, and shrugged.

"We don't know just yet." Dracula told the priest. "We're looking for someone."

"Who?"

"A foreigner. She is rather young, about thirteen, has an old hood just like ours, wears a dirty red robe and brown field shoes."

He wasn't midway through his description yet that Mathias visibly had no idea of the person.

"I'm sorry, I can't help you."

"Stop!" Frankeinstein grunted. A muzzle went into the light, and sniffed for endless seconds. "See the church over there? It's a bullseye, she's in there."

"Go forth." Dracula said, even though Frankeinstein had already taken on a four-legged sprint. After saying those words, he grabbed Mathias by the shoulder and forced him to turn around. The face under the hood seemed to be growling in rage.

"You lied to us." He stated. "And do you know what that means?"

"Yes indeed." Mathias declared with pride. "You slaves of Satan will never set your hands on the innocent. Your beast will not be able to get past the doors of our Church, for God will protect us!"

"Man, talk about religion."

"Huh?"

"Let me put it this way: here's what I think of your faith." And upon these words, Dracula reached for the priest's golden rosary, pulling it over to him with such force to break the chain. He took off the remaining piece of chain, put the cross in his mouth, bit down three times and spit out the mangled religious symbol on the ground as if tasting a disgusting fruit. The teeth had deformed the cross, sometimes punching holes through it. It wasn't a worthy symbol of God anymore.

Dracula reached into his cloak, and pulled out a book, on which he took a few notes with a modern pen Mathias had never seen before.

"Oh, for your information, these weren't our real names. Dracula is actually the name of a famous bloodthirsty vampire who lived in the eastern lands. He could change into a flurry of bats, fly without effort, and accomplish feats of strength no human could come close to. As for Frankeinstein, he was a giant monster composed of pieces of human corpses. Exceptionally strong and dependable; he was the fruit of a mad experiment. Which one do you think would look scarier?"

"I... Uhh... Frankeinstein, I guess... But what--"

"Thanks!" The so-called Dracula said cheerily, taking some more notes in his book. "Okay Frankie, take it away!"

Out of nowhere, a huge fist struck Mathias in the face.

The real Frankeinstein leaned over, and finished the job by breaking the priest's neck.

No one even dared to stare from the windows.

---

"This way, girl, the door's about to be forced open!"

"Who? What?"

"Come on, just move, come on!!"

Hood picked up her basket and ran into the corridor the preacher had pointed. His voice came from behind.

"There are two horses outside. Take the brown one; he's the fastest. And whatever you do, don't let this demon catch you; kill yourself if it's necessary. It's better than spending the rest of your days in hell!"

"But I've been telling you all along it's not a demon!"

"Who cares right now, just run! And God bless you!"

Slam. The back door had closed. It was time to take the horse and get out.

The wolf had already gotten rid of his cloak. She could see him turning around the corner, just as she was mounting the horse. A quick yell, and the stallion was on its way, running through streets and alleys at a speed never seen before.

Yet, the wolf was gaining ground, and fast.

Hood reached into her basket. She pushed the pieces of cake away to reveal a shining black device, hidden under the bakery.

Trembling with fear at using this unknown weapon for the first time, she pointed it at the wolf, and pulled the trigger.

The sound was loud enough to kill the entire planet itself, but it wasn't the purpose. The bullet lodged itself clean and clear into the wolf's shoulder, forcing him to stop in order to scream his pain to the world.

The shot had scared the horse, who ran even faster. Hood carefully looked at the pistol, examining its design and concept.

"Thank you Father Gilin." She whispered to herself. "At least your relic worked, whatever it was."

She put the gun back inside the basket. She was tired of always running away, but it was that, or being eaten.

She hoped the next town would be big enough to grant her a home for at least a few weeks. She was starting to wonder why the world had changed so much as she traveled. Her trips didn't seem that long, but then, fear has a tendency to distort the perspective of time...

And 'Dracula', the omnipresent narrator, was quietly writing the story away.

[Sperrit]

That's really DAMN cool! Post more, dude! This looks like a great story!

Join the Fun

[Shurikane]

03: Full Boom
Industrial Revolution - The Song's Fully In

---

Hood looked to both sides before opening the door to her home. There was no one, as usual.



This back street of London was quite a far walk from the factories. This didn't bother Hood much; her legs, having gone through countless sprints and marathons, had taken near-perfect shapes and muscles. The bones had lengthened to adapt to her new condition, and her heart had grown in size and power. She had evolved to a state where she could sprint all-out for thirty minutes without stopping, without a pause, and without running out of breath. Everyday, to the factory and back, she ran, just to keep in practice.



"I'm home!" She yelled as she undid the knot in her hood's strings. An old woman painstakingly stepped out of the kitchen.



"Good evening ma'am. How was the day today?"



Hood took off her shoes and coat as she responded:



"Very fine. No accidents and no beatings, at least as far as I saw. And you?"



"Oh me, me!" The woman shook her head. "Lord, my legs are a-killing me. Indeed they are; they've been this way ever since I can remember."



Hood giggled. "You say that everyday!"



The old woman tried to smile, which was a partial success.



"Anyways, dinner will be ready in about an hour. Now go upstairs and put something suitable on, darn you! Tonight, I'm serving you some special food!"



Hood nodded, and ran all the way up the stairs, to her tiny room, which was just to the right. Centerstage was the bathroom, and to the left was the old woman's bedroom.



She took a look behind to make sure no one was looking through the front door's window, quickly undressed herself and threw the garnments into her bedroom. This done, she hurried into the bathroom and locked the door.



She discovered with great surprise a full and steaming bath tub. Something really special had to be going on; she couldn't believe her eyes. Never in her life had she been able to take a hot bath. It was either in cold or dirty water, all the time. Goodness, she usually came out dirtier than when she went in!



This time, it was going to be different. And to get the best effect out of it, she placed herself smack in front of the mirror and made sure she would remember every single one of her features before the bath. She analysed the dark blonde hair that fell in cascades down to chest level, glued into clumps by oil and dirt. Her left arm bore the fresh scar of a small industrial accident from a few days ago, and her right arm was stained by dirty oil. On top of it, she stank. So was the hard life of a poor factory worker.



With a maximum of ceremony, she immersed herself into the hot waters of the tub. One foot at a time, and then progressively, knees, hips, waist, chest, up until the neck. She took a good breath, and dunked her head under, until the very last molecule of hair she had was wet. Only then, she emerged, her hair sticking to her face and shoulders, flat and boring, but at least a little bit cleaner.



The water had already taken a slightly dirtier tone. Not to let herself get depressed over that fact, she leaned back, closed her eyes, and waited for the small bathroom to fill itself with steam.



She must have waited at least twenty minutes in there, and by some miracle, the water remained hot. Realizing it wouldn't be this way forever, she began her cleaning process, starting with her hair, her most precious attribute. A body could remain dirty with no problem. But if she was to please to the eye, it would be using her hair. She knew the factory bosses had a weakness for long hair. All it would take would be a small favor, and they would find a spot for her in a safer and more profitable place.



According to her biological clock, dinner was almost ready. Getting out, she realized the water had gone from clear to opaque gray. Satisfied that she had taken that much dirt away from her body, she let the bath drain, and planted herself in front of the mirror again, ready to see the after picture.



She was stunned at her own looks. Her dark blonde hair had changed to a golden hue, and her skin had cleared up, revealing her natural pale skin.



She had so far lived for God knew how many hundreds of years... Four hundred? Five hundred? She had no way to count the days, and anyways she had forgotten her own birthyear. All that mattered for now was that she was alive, at least so far.



Besides, whatever had happened to her had its good points. She had frozen appearances to a healthy twenty-two years old, and nothing had changed so far. Still, she had no idea of the reason behind her newfound immortality, if that was it.



All she knew was that time seemed to fly by at breathtaking speed ever since she had run away from the wolf.

---

The dinner was a record amount of meat. Her days of labor had obviously paid off, and today was the opportunity to celebrate all that work.



She was almost done with her meal when the old woman announced some news to her:



"By the way, someone came while you were upstairs. He said you were to meet someone at the factory tomorrow morning... I think you had to go to room B-4... Yes, B-4, that was it."



Hood was puzzled. "Did he tell you who?"

---

Morning had come, and Hood had entered room B-4.



It was a large office, with an excellent view on the street, but some fat and balding man sitting behind the desk destroyed all beauty in the picture.



"He should be there any minute now." He said while looking at his pocket watch.



"First time the boss is later than the worker..." Hood sneered. While waiting, she adjusted her hood's strings for the fourteenth time. If she was to take care of her hair, she wanted it protected from any dirt.



At last, the door opened, closed... And was locked.



"Good morning, Mr. Staunton." A deep and hoarse voice toned.



"Hey boss." Said Mr. Staunton replied. "Here, have my seat."



"Stay down. I won't be here long. Worker, I believe you are Karen "Hood" Yorkshire?"



"Indeed, sir." She replied with a shaking voice. "What do you wish from me?"



A click. She felt the tip of something cold on the back of her neck.



"My name is Josef Stalin." The voice said. "My friend Adolf Hitler has told me about you. He says you are a very, very beautiful woman. Is that true?"



"Yes... Indeed, it is true." Hood replied, nodding slowly.



"Glad to hear." Stalin said, satisfied. "Mr. Staunton, please turn away. Karen, pull on your skirt; show me those legs of yours."



Hood wasn't used to having a boss call her by her first name, but she couldn't argue against a pistol. Slowly, she set her feet on the desk, and pulled on her skirt, until she was almost no longer decent. She could sense Stalin's gaze; some sixth sense of hers told her he was amazed by her unusual legs.



"They're long," he stated after a few moments of hesitation, "very long. In fact, they could almost compete with those of the legendary Elisabeth Marquis."



"Who?"



"Hitler told me about her. She is the world's top in terms of raw leg power... At least in the year 2034. Here, take a look."



Hood's vision was blocked by a photo of something she had never seen before. It was a woman indeed, but she had trouble believing it. Although the woman on the picture was naked, she saw no obscenity. That face on the picture was very unusual; pink orbs for eyes, set on translucent white skin, crowned by a ball of pink and black hair.



But if there was something of interest, it was her legs. They took three quarters of the creature's height, long, graceful and strong, yet impossible to imagine. Even with a million years of training, Hood would never get such legs. Besides, that so-called Elisabeth had legs of matte black in color. Not chocolate brown like some people she sees once in a while; they were black. And she had never seen such perfectly black skin in her life; in fact, the entire being on the photo was alien to her.



The picture went away, back into Stalin's pocket.



"Quite a sight, huh?" He said, punctuating it with a small, forced laugh. "She is what they call an Insa-type android; part demon, and part machine. The best of both worlds. Hitler's organization knows her from another dimension."



"Andro-what? And what's a dimension?!"



"Nevermind. You'll know soon enough. Oh, and do you know what creates androids? Wounds. Wounds, like the one you gave me back when da Vinci was still alive!!"



"God no!!"



Reflex obliging, Hood turned around on her seat, and saw the true face of Stalin.



It was the wolf. And now the pistol was on her forehead.



"Hundreds of years looking forward to eating you." He sneered. "I'm getting hungrier every year; I hate it when people don't let me enjoy at least an amuse-gueule, like a finger, or a foot..."



Hood's eyes were open wide. Staunton had not turned around. He dared not to, and she understood him. Slowly, she got up. She was trapped, and no one would save her this time. This time, the gun was in the wolf's hands.



He pulled on the shirt he wore to reveal an old wound done to his shoulder. It had been replaced by an arrangement of mechanics and hydraulics.



"At least, with your blood, I'll be able to rebuild my shoulder, back to what it used to be." He said while re-arranging his shirt with his free hand. "Your grandmother wasn't enough. Oh, and you know what? I'm still digesting her."



It was true! Hood could hear faint sounds coming from the wolf...



Screams of pain.



"You monster!" She yelled.



"And proud of it." The wolf said back on the spot.



"Hundreds of years of life and you still aren't bored of chasing me yet... Can't you eat other people instead? Why me?!"



"Chill down. I'll tell you why. Hitler, my friend, has granted the both of us immortality, but only in terms of age. You see, someone had written a biography about you one day, and in that version, I ate you up. And then someone else thought it would be fun to let you survive instead. Well Hitler doesn't like it when people tamper with lives like that, playing God all over the place like this. So he allowed me to live until I could eat you, raw and plump. And he allowed you to live until I could eat you, for you to remain young, healthy and beautiful, so that I wouldn't end up eating an old rag like the woman you're living with now!"



"And what is Hitler trying to accomplish by this?!"



The wolf grinned, and brought his face an inch away from hers. "Because that's the way it has to be."



"I'll never accept that."



She kicked with full force, hitting the wolf right between the legs. Without any further ceremony, she made a dash for the window.



The wolf aimed and shot, but his newfound instability hindered his aim, instead managing to shatter part of the glass, and simply making it easier for Hood to crash through.



She landed in a pool of her own blood, thanks to the glass, but she could care less for now. Immediately, she took a sprint for the nearest back street. She knew the wolf would get her by the smell; after all, she had bathed yesternight. She smelled clean...



With resignation, she found a pile of coal, and rolled herself into it. To hell with good looks for now. It was time to run. It was always time to run.



Somewhere, despite his efforts, Hitler was fuming in frustration.



Before this chapter ended, Hood's head was invaded by some foreign voice.



For your historical knowledge, Hitler and Stalin don't exist yet... But don't worry, you'll know them soon enough, the way things are going so far!



If the wolf had decided to tag the name Stalin on himself, that must've meant the real Stalin had to be even worse.



And Hitler? She shuddered at the thought.



She ran, and time went on.

[Sperrit]

Dang, man. That's pretty crazy. Very good, but pretty crazy. VERY good.

Join the Fun

[Shurikane]

04: First Soundfest
World War II - The Grand Melody

---

There were reports of a blitzkrieg going on twenty miles to the east, and the French were listening carefully to the radio reports. So far, things had been bad. Too many soldiers dead, not enough air support, and overwhelming German troops. The allied division would get blown up at best.



Hood had woken up upon hearing the first shell. Groggy from lack of sleep, she poured herself a cup of coffee and joined two other comrades, who were sitting on boxes in the next room of the small, underground station.



"Did you hear that?" She said.



"Entendu quoi?"



"The shell, the bomb! Something blew up outside."



"Quelle explosion? C'est calme plat ici. La bataille est encore à vingt miles d'ici."



"Exactly. The Germans brought tanks in. I heard them. I still hear them now."



An awkward silence fell, broken by the one Frenchman who hadn't spoken yet:



"La dame dit vrai. Faut la croire."



"Et pourquoi? J'y crois pas aux voyantes, moi!"



"T'as la preuve devant tes yeux, pauvre con! Sors de ta putain de bulle de merde et commence à montrer un peu d'ouverture d'esprit!"



"J'en ai à r'vendre d'l'ouverture. C'est pas toi qui me dira ma religion!"



"What?" Hood interjected, unable to follow the quickening conversation. She didn't get an answer, as the radio on the box table came alive with a coded message.



"Bonsoir, voici les nouvelles de dix heures." It declared. "La lumière est faible et l'ampoule à changer. La lumière est faible et l'ampoule à changer. Bûcherons, apportez votre scie. Bûcherons, apportez votre scie. Aristote est vivant. Aristote est vivant. Le tungsten est chaud et dur. Le tungsten est chaud et dur. La croix a pris feu. La croix a pris feu. Qu'ils mangent du gâteau. Qu'ils mangent du gâteau."



As Hood heard the words, she translated them aloud for herself:



"The light is dim and the bulb must be changed... Lumberjacks, bring your saw... Aristotle is alive... Tungsten is warm and hard... The cross caught fire... Let them eat cake... Wait! What's tungsten in German?!"



"Wolfram." Both Frenchmen replied in unison.



"No!! The attack's led by the wolf himself!"



"Pardon?"



"Personal problems. I must go."



She ran to her room to pick up her belongings. As she packed her stuff in random order, the taller Frenchman tried to dissuade her from going out.



"Vous pouvez pas faire ça, c'est bourré d'allemands là-dehors! Vous allez vous faire prendre!"



"Je sais où sont les soldats, merci."



"Vous pouvez pas être sérieuse!"



Hood was next to the ladder. She turned around with rage in her face.



"Votre scepticisme, monsieur," she snapped, "il peut aller s'faire enculer!"



Without any further ado, she climbed out of the hideout. The skeptic turned around to see his comrade clenching his sides in laughter.

---

According to her remote vision, the Germans had left a spot unguarded to the north. All she would need to do would be to keep the radar on and watch for any changes. She didn't have the time and temper to start a movement prediction in such conditions.



The ground was dry and firm, a blessing for her shoes. She arrived at the spot quickly, and made sure of the German soldier positions. They were all busy guarding a bridge, and had left this part of the river unchecked because of strong currents.



But there wasn't a current strong enough to beat twelve hundred years of leg training. Gracefully, she dove into the cold river, and in just a few strokes made it on the other side. Sure, she was wet, but she was safer, at least.



She had to go west now, away from the Germans. And as far as her senses were concerned, the road was clear.

---

"You made it!"



"Wolfram is on the move again." Hood declared to the officer, whom she knew well. "I need to go somewhere else. He knows I'm in the area, I can sense it."



Shaking his head, the officer handed a few sheets of paper to her.



"Here," he said. "Do what you have to do."



Hood took a seat and closed her eyes. A few deep breaths later, she had a clear picture of most key areas of France and England. Normandy was out of the question; it would get bloody real soon. Anything south and east of it was also a no-go zone. However, London seemed quite peaceful, aside from occasional skirmishes. She would be safe there. Unless...



"Lieutenant," she said. "Is there any way I can go to the United States?"



"No; it'll take up a precious aircraft for too long. I'm afraid it's impossible."



"Okay... Then what about London?"



"That, I can do... As soon as they call for transports in England, I will book you in."



"But that's two days from now!"



Silence.



The lieutenant sighed.



"Wolfram will be here in two days, huh?"



Hood nodded. She needed a plane, now.

---

She went to sleep with a furious headache; only God knew how she had managed to fall asleep in the first place.



She didn't ask for that vision, and she was sure it was not a dream. Things were too clear and too precise. She could see American men rushing out of rooms while brushing their teeth. Some were in pyjamas, others wet and naked, and all of them were looking up while running.



She was standing everywhere and nowhere in this mayhem, able to see everywhere from all angles and directions at once. Everything was confusion and panic. Ships exploded one after another.



She saw one bomber at a particularly high altitude. She saw the bomb, whistling, going straight down at an ever-increasing speed. It pierced the roof, went down floor after floor, and finished its ride right into the ammo storage room.



An orderly, hearing the noise, ran over and peered through the hole. He only had the time to say "Son of a bitch!"



The USS Arizona jumped from the immense explosion.

---

When she had arrived in London, Hood had requested to know where the nearest telegram office was.



The message was forwarded to the army offices of Honolulu.



"Sir," the telegram officer said upon entering his superior's office. "I've received a telegram from London. It says the Japs are making their move."



The superior raised an eyebrow. "What - now?! We've got our whole fleet here; they wouldn't want to go against all of us at the same time."



"Sir, my best guess is that they might try to sabotage our facilities, sir."



"And what's your proof?"



"One of our aircraft seems to have been tampered with. The prop was fractured and the main wheels deflated."



The superior thought for a moment, before taking a piece of paper and writing down a few notes. That done, he folded the paper and gave it to the officer.



"Have this delivered to the airfields. We'll bunch up our planes to make them easier to protect."



"I'm going this instant, sir."

[Shurikane]

05: Buildup
Iraq Nuclear Conflict - Waiting for the Grand Finale

---

The CIA offices were unusually full of activity today. Most of the world's biggest news channels were giving live coverage of the situation twenty-four-seven, something Hood had gotten used to. She adjusted her skirt while coming out of the info room and entering a dark and cramped space, full of computers, their screens the room's only light.



She went around a big C-shaped computer compound and sat right in the middle of it. Next to her, his back turned, was another veteran of the CIA.



Both were taking notes down now, a speaker in one ear and a finger in the other, trying to muffle out the excited noises coming out of the info room.



"Report?" She finally said to her comrade.



"Codename Tungsten is still very active according to probabilities. My sheets say he has contacts with Saddam Hussein, and supplies Al Quaeda with rockets and sophisticated machine guns. He might have a connection with some extremist Islam groups but I can't guarantee that just yet."



"Do you at least have a location?"



"Negative."



"Say what?!"



"Negative!"



Hood facepalmed and sighed. Her searches were going nowhere...



"What about the RV group? Anything?" She finally said.



"Nothing worth mentionning. They all failed at identifying the designated targets; the way it's going they couldn't see a truck even if it was in front of their face. And you?"



"I can't concentrate, Doug. The CIA is stressing me out..."



Doug understood. Both worked at irregular schedules, depending on the urgency of the situation. Considering the current times, they worked round the clock now.



Hood checked the latest info on the Internet and found nothing new. The newscasters may be talking at breakneck speed, the war was actually going at an awfully slow pace.



She knew the wolf was in line with all those extremist powers. He wouldn't have done that had she stayed in proximity of him, but he considered her a food serious enough to mobilize an entire army to go and hunt her down.



She didn't want to tell anyone he was after her, in fact. Saddam and bin Laden were both his puppets, she was sure of it. Soon as she was dead, everything would drop to a standstill and everyone would make peace, wondering why they had been stupid enough to start a war in the fist place.



Bush shaking Hussein's hand and hugging... Yeah, right. That wouldn't happen anytime soon.



She felt selfish, putting an entire world into play just for the sake of her own life.

---

She and Doug were having lunch at four o' clock in the morning. The macaroni salad seemed more fake than McDonald's meat patties but she kept that thought to herself instead of playing master of the obvious; a quick scan into Doug's brain showed he had the same reaction to the salad.



The dining room was empty. Most of the CIA workers were home. Most of the TVs were off. The big news had just been a bunch of hooie. Too much noise for nothing; it happened too often these days.



"Those news--"



"...Really are getting on your nerves, huh?" Hood completed his phrase. He took a look at her but preferred to finish his salad instead of turning it all into a stare.



"Yeah..." He finally said. "We're in really big trouble here nonetheless. Had been this way ever since the beginning of this whole conflict!"



"At least Bush saw it coming. Too bad no one believed him."



"Hey, waddya want. I was among the pacifists and I was justified too. I mean, why provoke a war? Let some other idiot provoke it."



"Maybe not obeying to that rule actually saved USA's butt this time."



Doug burped. "I don't know what to think. What do you think?"



"This has got to be the dirtiest war the world has ever fought."



"I agree. It got dirty end of 2001, and then went from bad to worse."



A silence fell. Ever since they had started to eat, they had gone from awkward silence to small talk and back to awkward silence, rinse and repeat, over and over again.



The silence lasted longer this time. Hood wasn't in a hurry, since she had one more hour to herself before going back to work. Her head settled against the wall, her eyelids went down. Finally, some time to relax.



She picked up some activity coming from Doug. Without really noticing it, he was busy thinking about her superb legs, his mind slowly picking up her business skirt and pulling it up to reveal more of them. At the same time he pictured her shirt's buttons having a mind of their own, twisting and turning out of their holes, lengthening the neckline and showing a bit of cleavage.



Hood's eyes opened. She was smiling.



"You just wanna do me, huh?" She said.



Doug sighed. "Damn, I can't hide anything from you!"



She giggled. "That's survival instinct to you. Sprints, strategy, remote vision, controlled foresight, receiving telepathy, aerokinesis; it was learn or die. And each thing I learned, the wolf learned too, the better to follow me. It had been this way for over a thousand years."



"What a luck. Me falling in love with an ancestor."



"Okay, and what about my sexy looks of a twenty-five year old woman?"



"Very acceptable." Doug replied in a purposely snobbish tone. Both laughed.



An alarm suddenly went off, diving the room in pitch red ambiance.

---

It was the century's rush in the building. Hood put a speaker to her ear and was glad to catch the BBC version of the news. The coverage was now about a sudden attack from the Iraqi forces... All along the east coast of USA.



"Where did they come from?!" Someone shouted over the noise.



"I don't care! Does the defence force know about it?!" Someone else went.



"I'm on the phone here," a third man screamed. "Squadrons of F-18s and F-22s are being sent all over the place."



"It's too late, look! I see them right here from this window!"



"Show me! Make way, make way!!"



Groups of people gathered at the windows, gazing at the city now illuminated by explosions coming from everywhere. The sound of fighter jets had become omnipresent and dangerous, as low-level flying aircraft were blowing up windows all over the place.



Without a word, Hood took Doug's hand and went for the emergency stairs. She had one minute to get to the basement and settle down in a safe spot.



"What's going on?!" Doug yelled.



"They'll drop an all-purpose bomb on the CIA office and then they're gonna nuke us!"



"What?"



"They're gonna nuke us!!"



That shut him up. Fact was, she was telling him the cold and hard truth.



She found the spot in the underground garage and shuffled inside.



"Doug!" She said. "Hide in that spot over there! Doug!!"



The man couldn't move. He was paralyzed by fear. A huge wooshing sound followed by the scream of a falling bomb signaled his doom. When the building collapsed, he was right there to receive the full extent of it.



"Doug!" Hood screamed over the noise. "Doug!!... Bastards!!!"



It was too late for him. All she could do now was hide and hope her foresight had been accurate.



Seconds later, the nuclear bomb went off.