Initial Confrontations by Shane
A few thin streams of cigar smoke wafted into the night sky. The
fresh Cuban was hanging from the mouth of Lt. Mike Barnard. He was
dressed in the standard S.W.A.T. uniform of the district he worked
for, considered by most to be the most adept special weapons and
tactics team in the entire city of state of California. He was very
average in appearance, with a height of around six foot, and a weight
that was acceptable to his height and build. He was fit, though
his muscular physique was all but hidden by the tactical vest and
body armor he was wearing. He kept his head shaved, had a clean-shaven
face, and sported full brown eyebrows that match his sharp brown
Lt. Barnard commanded his own S.W.A.T. element, with eight team
skilled members. He had grown to be close friends with all of them
over the years, and was always a very fair commander, albeit slightly
hard on them during drilling. He explained it by saying that if
they were hurt for any reason in the line of duty, it would be his
fault for failing them in training. His teams skills were
honed to a razors edge, and he would make sure it stayed that
way. He looked up to see his superior approaching. Somehow he knew
he would be going in. The lieutenant had a bad feeling about something
thought. He shook the thought away and stubbed out his cigar.
At four oclock that afternoon, a group of five men had walked
into a Catholic church in down town San Diego and begun performing
strange rituals. The minister tried to get them to leave, but they
were intent on what they were doing. They just stayed on the altar
as-if they couldnt hear. The minister called the local police.
Two officers arrived at sometime around five oclock and went
into the church while the minister and a few bystanders waited outside.
Five minutes later their eviscerated bodies were thrown through
a stained glass window onto the sidewalk. The church had since been
pumped full of tear gas, and none of the killers had come out, so
a S.W.A.T. team was ordered to go in and take care of the situation.
Lt. Barnard had his team stacked against the brick wall next to
the door of St. Marys of San Diego. It was a heavy wooden
door, and would be a chore for the battering ram. The battering
rammer, Sgt. Tim Shannon, stood ready in front of it. Barnards
team was well armed, with four sub-machine guns, two assault rifles,
and two shotguns. They looked menacing in their body armor and Kevlar
helmets, complete with gas masks. The point officer drew a flashbang
grenade and pulled the pin, holding it ready. The lieutenant gave
The door of the church burst open with the impact of the battering
ram, and wood splinters from the hinge exploded into the air. In
an instant, two flashbang grenades flew into the church, and exploded.
The officers rushed inside in two rows, one on each side of the
doorframe, guns up and level. They ran down the center aisle toward
the altar, scanning the rows of seats. The church was dark and empty.
The power had been cut, so the team was using gun-mounted flashlights
to see. Barnard walked toward the plush red altar carpeting. The
first thing he noticed was a giant white pentagram drawn in chalk.
There were candles burning along its perimeter. He turned and saw
large splotched of congealing blood splattered onto the white walls.
He looked to the corner and saw something through the haze of tear
gas. When he stepped closer, he turned in horror to his men.
Mother of God, Barnard whispered into his helmet microphone.
Theres a pile of internals over here, must be from the
Another team member came over and shook his head.
They gotta be in here still.
Yeah, I agree. Barnard pointed to the officer closes
two him. Malone, Travis, Stevens, and Lee check out the basement.
Use that staircase to the left. I studied the blueprints of this
place, and the door to my right also leads to the basement.
Malone figured out the rest. You want us to flush them up
Thats the idea. Keep talking to me while youre
down there. And be careful, were dealing with some sick fucks.
The four officers slowly opened the basement door and went down
single file. Barnard set his three men up facing the right door;
anything that ran up would by the business end of several gun barrels.
The lieutenant began to search the altar some more, trying to avert
his eyes from the pile of entrails.
This is Malone, were at the bottom of the staircase,
and we got no contact yet.
Barnard acknowledged and kept looking, feeling like he was missing
something. He traced his flashlight across the dark walls on the
church. Some of the statues were torn off the walls, which seemed
unusual, though the lieutenant didnt know why.
Malone again, we are entering the ministers living
area, no contact.
Barnard concentrated on the statues lying shattered on the floor.
Some of them rested more that ten feet off the groundBarnard
suddenly knew. He swung his flashlight to the ceiling. There, three
figures clung to lamps, more than fifty feet above the ground. How
in the hell did they get up there? He wondered. He spoke into his
This is Barnard, we have three suspects located, they appear
to be unarmed, but they are hanging from the ceiling. We need some
ladders or scaffolding or something. I say again they are
His jaw dropped. The three figures had dropped from the ceiling
and were now standing tall on the floor, staring straight into the
beam of all four officers flashlights, with bright red eyes.
Lt. Barnard raised his Colt M4A1 rifle, dumbfounded.
Alright, I dont know what the hell is going on here,
but keep your hands where I can see them or we will fire!
His earpiece came to life again.
This is Malone, we are moving on to the activity room, no
Barnard replied. Roger that Malone, we have three suspects
apprehended, continue search A voice bellowed through
the church. One of the killers was talking. It was an inhuman, deep
Fool. You know not whom you deal with. You will pay for your
ignorance in blood.
Barnard couldnt help but notice the bright white teeth that
glinted in the flashlight beam as the criminal spoke. The other
two had the same dental feature.
What the fuck are you? Barnard asked as he gripped
his rifle tighter.
I am, a child of Cain. The being grinned wickedly.
Muffled gunshots began to resonate from the basement.
Just then Barnards earpiece exploded to life.
Mike! Mike! Under attack! Gunshots drown out some parts
of the screaming. Somethings all over us! Stevens is
down, Travis is missing! I can hear it! Oh God! High-pitched
screaming. Ahhh! Come here you rat bastard son of a bitch!
Get some of this! More gunshots, then silence.
Malone? Barnard glanced back at the grinning vampire.
Hes quite dead Im afraid. Youll see him
in a minute.
Barnard spoke evenly. Bring it on you fairy tale mother fucker.
He let lose with his M4, and cut an arc of fully automatic gunfire
across two of the demons. The large caliber slugs exploded their
chests in a puff of red. Their mangled bodies crumpled to the ground.
To Barnards horror, they got up again seconds later, snarling.
He fired another volley of shots across the neck of one of them.
The head was decapitated, and the vampire fell again, but didnt
get up. Barnard began furiously reloading his magazine. The speaking
vampire roared and leapt at the closest officer throwing him through
a stained-glass window. Sgt. Tim Shannon fired a shotgun blast at
it, and blew its left arm off. The vampire looked annoyed at the
injury, and leapt at him. It landed an uppercut that tore Skinners
head halfway off.
The last officer stitched a dozen shots into its side before it
put its fist through his abdomen. The other wounded vampire began
to run at Barnard, but he reloaded in time, and stacked thirty rounds
into its center mass, blowing it back fifteen feet and disintegrating
its head. He felt the wind get knocked from his lungs and he flew
into a row of seats. He moaned and rose to his feet, his rifle had
been knocked from his hands.
The speaking vampire began to walk toward him, blood pouring from
its wounds. Barnard drew his Desert Eagle .50 pistol in a flash
and fired all seven shots at it. He had aimed for the head but had
only managed to get it five times in the chest. It fell over but
was quickly staggering back to its feet.
You weak pathetic mortal, Im thirsty. The vampire
clutched the lieutenant in its vice-like grip and bodily picked
him up. It sunk its teeth into the armor plating of his uniform
collar. The demon grunted in dismay. The armor stopped the penetration.
Suck on this, Barnard grunted as he jammed the seven-inch
blade of his combat knife through the neck of the vampire. It gurgled,
and began to squeeze him with all its fury. He felt the air being
pushed from his lungs, but he wriggled the knife around inside the
flesh. Warm blood sprayed all over him. Then, the crushing stopped.
He collapsed to the ground on top of the decapitated vampire.
He lay on his back, panting, unable to catch his breath. A shadow
emerged from the basement door and walked towards him. He knew it
was the fourth vampire. He knew he was dead. It was right in front
of Barnard, and raised its claws into the air
Twwwwunk. A large wooden projectile lodged into the
vampires chest and it quickly fell, without a sound. Lt. Barnard
glanced behind him to see the silhouette of a man holding a crossbow.
He held out his hand.
My name is David Prometheus, but most call me Father D. Come
with me if you want to live.