29: Waking up and the next job -John-

I woke up in a hospital bed feeling surprisingly well. I moved my arms and legs and found that they were no longer broken. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"I see you're awake." When I heard Patrick's voice I wanted to get up to attack him but wasn't sure if it was a good idea judging by my previous injuries.

"You fucking bastard. You sent us in there without any clue as to what we were dealing with. It was a suicide mission." I turned to face him.

"You survived, didn't you?" He smiled, his eyes calm and old.

"I don't want to hear it. You're a prick and as soon as I can get at you, I'll be sure to show you what I mean." I was furious and the longer he sat there calmly the more I considered ignoring my possible injuries.

"Please," He sighed, " Don't act like you didn't understand what the job entailed. You knew exactly what you were getting yourself into when you left Ben. Just like you know there's more going on than meets the eye. You aren't stupid, so stop acting like a brute."

He was right of course. I had known that there was more to accepting the job than I had been told. I also knew that something horrible was happening behind the scenes.

"Why am I not dead?" I should have been, "The last thing I remember was being pummeled by that Moth-Boy and now I'm laying here feeling fine."

"I have pull in high places. I was able to get you a Get Out Of Death Free card this once."

"Where's Jay, Rob, and Tim?" I sat up slowly just in case but nothing happened. I was feeling more refreshed than I'd felt in a long time.

"They already headed off to the next job. Tim suggested that they do recon beforehand." Patrick stood and straightened out his suit.

"So what death trap are you sending us to now?"

"You're headed to Asgard to get me the Gleipnir."

"Gleipnir?" I stood up and got dressed as Patrick headed to the door.

"The leash that holds the great wolf Fenrir. I will tell you more once you're on your way, but as of right now I need a shower. The helicopter is waiting upstairs."

And with that Patrick vanished out the door.

18: CAYT -Emma-

I opened several canisters with the OCS label and mixed them together carefully. This mixture of chemicals needed to be handled carefully, as mixing them could cause a hefty explosion if not done right.

All I had to do was get past the hundreds of creatures at the door and then I could find my way out of the lab. I closed the canister and walked to the door. Shaking the canister I opened the door, tossed it out, and then quickly closed it. I had seconds to dive behind something before the door was taken off its hinges.

A smell of burnt flesh hit my nose as I looked around at the door. The floor was littered with hundreds of dead, or half-dead moths. It wasn't surprising that they hadn't all been destroyed, I had designed them to last as long as they could.

I hadn't done much to them. I took ordinary moths, edited their DNA a bit, and then gave them the chemical known as CAYT. From there I just watched them, and recorded what I'd seen.

I picked my way around the moths trying to ignore their cries of pain; their calls for help. There were more in the building so I had to be careful as I traveled through out the compound.

When Patrick had first given me CAYT, I'd done some researching in the old case files. The origin of the chemical was listed as unknown and the chemical make-up had elements I had never seen before. Patrick had been studying this chemical before I'd been born and so many failed experiments were attached. Despite the constant failures, I could see how beneficial the chemical could be if harnessed right. It could cure disease, power weapons, give an energy output that would leave nuclear fusion in the dust.

I crept past the open door of the observation room. Laying on the floor inside were two guards, clearly dead, judging by the lack of head. It was there that I'd first learned of the problems when using CAYT. The first being that it only reacted with organic cells, and the second being the unpredictable mental and physical mutations that it caused. The reaction the subject had to the chemical depended on many factors, but mostly on how it entered their system.

One project was stopped because a mixture of CAYT and various other chemicals caused some of the workers to go insane when entered directly into the bloodstream. It had been a massacre with only one person who had surprisingly survived, only to be given the death sentence for mass murder.

I walked past the origin of the outbreak; a small laboratory holding living moths that had been injected with CAYT, inside small jars. Several scientists and guards were scattered through out the room, missing various body parts. I gently stepped over the broken glass as I made my way across the room to a cell phone I saw laying on the floor.

I punched in the number and smiled when I heard him pick up.

"Hello?"

"Hi, it's Emma."

"Well, hello. I can say I am certainly surprised and glad to hear that you've survived this unfortunate incident."

"Mr. Bernauw, I need help getting out of here. I'm at the compound."

There was a slight pause on the end of the line, followed by a loud sigh.

"You see Emma, I have a team checking things out and if they can get to you, they will. How ever, I can not promise anything and as soon as my team is extracted, I'm going to level the entire place whether you're still there or not."

"So how long do I have?"

"I'd say . . . three hours. It could be longer or shorter though; we've already lost one of the team and I'm afraid it isn't looking good for the other two."

"I'll get out in time. Bye."

"Bye Emma."

16: The Four Musketeers -John-

Broken elbow or not, I wasn't going to just let this thing kill us that easy. As it lumbered toward me, I glanced to my left and spotted a car. Grabbing Jay, I dragged him over to the car as fast as I could and pushed him beneath it.

No sooner had I gotten him under, when I was slammed to the side by the moth’s flaming arm. I hit the ground rolling, trying to ignore the pain in my arm while putting out any fire. Exhaustion and pain made it hard for me to move, but I rolled to my feet and tried to lead the moth away from Jay. The ground shook as it got closer and I couldn't run anymore. I quickly spun around and ducked under the moth’s belly.

Running beneath it I felt the heat from its charred, flaming skin. I shoved the knife up in to the charred and burning areas, cutting them wide open. As I cleared the back of it, I could hear the creature’s screams of pain as fluid and some innards spilled from the cuts. I didn't look. I just kept running.

That's when I heard the buzzing above. Glancing up, I saw one of the smaller moths flying toward me. Why do things have to keep getting worse? I dived behind a trash can as a dart hit where I'd been running. The larger moth had turned around and was making its way toward me. I heard several loud popping noises coming from somewhere.

To the left Robby came running from an alleyway, his gun in his hands, firing away at the massive thing. He saw me and ran over as fast as he could, avoiding darts from the smaller moth.

"Are you alright?"

"I'll live. Jay's underneath a car behind that thing."

"Is he?"

"He's knocked out. Robby, I've thrown everything that I could at this thing, it won't go down."

"John, cockroaches can live a week with out their head. Bugs are known to live through extreme things."

The large moth roared and began running toward us.

"Robby, Jay tried blowing it up. I shot out its eye and sliced it up a bit. It's just not stopping."

The smaller moth flew around so that it could hit us and took aim.

"We have to move."

"Yeah."

At that moment a small plane flew in from the side, blasting away with small guns on its side. The small moth turned toward it and shot three darts. The plane dipped and weaved to avoid the attack and then turned off to the side.

"Stupid moth! John, why'd you have to go and get yourself in over your head?", Tim's voice came from the small craft.

Something about that guy just gets me angry, "Couldn't have gotten here sooner you little prick?!"

Robby pulled up his gun and began to fire at the gargantuan moth, "Now's not the time to argue."

I pulled myself to my feet and raised my fist at the small plane, "When I get back . . .!"

"I'm expecting it!" The small plane flew off to resume its battle with the little moth.

Robby's bullets weren't stopping the moth; only slowing it down. I lifted my gun with my good arm and just as I was about to fire, I felt a pain on the back of my head.

"Nice way to save my life!", Jay stepped next to Robby and began firing as well, "You could have just said duck."

"My way was funner." I lifted my gun the best I could and began firing.

11: The Sad Anger Of Patrick -Tim-

By the time I'd hacked into a satellite capable of showing me what was going on in Europe, things had gotten a little crazy. A huge moth-thing was searching for something near where everyone had been dropped, and a lone red convertible was making its way through the streets, closely followed by two smaller moth-things. John and Robby were nowhere to be seen, but I figured that was what the massive moth was searching for.

I had no communications with them and Patrick had decided that he had to keep a closer eye on me, so he lounged in a nearby seat. The pressure was phenomenal for me to do my best.

"It's not gonna help if you're looking over my shoulder."

Patrick laughed a little, "I'm your boss. I'm just doing my job."

"Could you do your job somewhere else?", I asked, my voice full of hopeful sarcasm.

"My trus-", Patrick was interrupted by the ringing of the phone.

"I hope someone died.", and I meant it.

"Hello.", Patrick answered. Then he was silent for a few moments.

The expression on his face changed from his normal to sadness in an instant. The phone dropped from his hand and he sat there staring into space.

"No. No. No." He fell to his knees, tears flooding his eyes. His body began to shake as sobs found their way from his open mouth.

"No, she can't be. She can't be gone! They took her from me! She was mine and they ripped her from my hands!"

I was completely surprised by his reaction to the phone call and the only thing I could think of doing was getting up, and putting a hand on his shoulder for comfort. Big mistake.

He slapped my hand away and pushed me so hard that I slammed into the opposite wall. The air left my lungs and as I gasped he slammed into me.

"YOU! You and your little friends killed her! That stupid bear and retarded-idiot! I’ll tear all of you limb from limb! None of you will survive my wrath! I'll kill your families one by one, and then go to your friends! Then once they are all DEAD, I will take my time torturing each and everyone of you until you scream for death!"

His strength was something I'd never felt. I'd been punched by many people but never have I felt this kind of power. It was as if I could feel his hatred flooding through me and picking at my soul with tweezers.

"I didn't do anything to you." Speaking was much easier after I'd caught my breath.

He loosened a little, "Ben, Ben Ashford . . . He did it. He's the reason she's gone. If he hadn't come in to the picture, then they all wouldn't be together."

He let me go and pointed to the computer, "Everything you can find about Ben or anyone that stays with him I need to know, RIGHT NOW! I want you to destroy his bank accounts and trash his life anyway you can."

"Who did he kill?"

"Saba, my Saba.", Patrick was near tears again, "They hit her with a car."

"Oh wow." It sounded like there was more to it, but to avoid anymore attacks I just let the suspicion pass, "Okay, but first I have to take care of that."

On the screen behind Patrick, the giant moth-thing had stopped searching and was now holding something in its mouth; something very human.

7: Something About Patrick -Tim-

Pain coursed through my hand as I slammed it on to the keyboard. John, Jay, and Robby were stuck with out communication in a creature infested area of Germany, and all I could do was frantically try to get a satellite image. That of course didn't go over so well. I couldn't hack in to the satellite with out permission from the government.

I had to get Patrick. I stood quickly and turned to see him stroll on in.

There was something about the guy I just didn't like. Something about his eyes, his walk, and his ability to gain immediate authority just by being there. He gave off this old and powerful vibe like something out of H.P. Lovecraft.

"Something the matter? I haven't heard any news from our ground units in quite a while."

Screw his authority.

"YOU!", I closed the distance between us quickly, "You sent them in to a dangerous situation with out any warning! You kept vital information from us that would have let us prepare accordingly!"

Now, I'm not such a strong person, but I'm not afraid to step up and wallop someone. Especially if said person may have killed all of my friends by being retarded. So I swung, and immediately found myself with my back on the ground and no idea how I got there.

"Now Tim, you did fine on your own. You hacked in to my system and learned all you needed to know." I was silenced by his face, full of killing intent as if I'd insulted his honor, as if I was beneath him. A bug to be squashed. My silence didn't last long, I could care less if his honor had been tarnished and I was willing to die for my friends.

"I don't have communication, you stupid-idiot! Something attacked them! They could be dead, and if they are . . ."

"You'll what? Try to hit me again? Learn your place before I show it to you! You think they’re dead? Let's see what we can do about getting proof before we go off the handle.", Patrick's face was emotionless now, "I'd hate to have to kill you before you do any real work for me."

I didn't blink. I didn't even look away, "Patrick, if they're dead . . . I'd hate to be you."

Patrick only smiled.

5: More Than He Told Us -Jay-

The weapons he gave us seemed like over kill for what we were after. We needed high powered rifles for a few caterpillars? There was more to this than we were told.

We were dropped in by plane, landing in the parking lot of the only Inn within the small town of Arbing; Rott am Inn. We all shuffled quickly out of the plane and it slowly lifted into the sky. Our only escape just left.

Luckily we had radios.

"Hey, Tim?!", John nearly screamed into the radio.

"OW! Not so loud, I can hear you fine." His voice was fuzzy but it was there. Our only way out of this place was talking to him, not that I didn't trust him. I just didn't trust the information we'd gotten from Patrick, and I suspected that the second we became a liability, these radios would suddenly stop.

What can I say, my trust is very limited.

My turn to talk, “Tim.”

"Yeah?"

"Do you think you could do me a favor and check what kind of information Patrick has on this place?"

"Don't trust him either? I've already started worming my way in to his more . . . sensitive files. When I learn anything, I’ll let you know."

"Thanks."

The town looked normal besides the lack of people, and the occasional large mass of webbing the size of an ice cream truck. As we made our way outside the inn’s parking lot we came across one and, like the scientist he is, Robby was the first person to go over and began examining the fibers.

"Wow, would you look at this thing?", he could barely contain his excitement, "What if they're man eating caterpillars? Then we'd have to watch where we sit because one of them might nibble their way up your a-"

"Hey guys?", I'm pretty sure that everyone was grateful for the interruption. Robby is like that; always turning everything he can in to a very disturbing image. It was one of his quirks. Nobody enjoyed it, but they didn't stop it either because then Robby wouldn't be Robby.

"Yeah?", John responded while we all helped Robby collect some samples of the webbing.

"Okay, I think I've figured out why he sent us in with the kind of firepower he did. Apparently his "friend" was actually a squadron of armed men. He'd sent them in to retrieve a sample and document the situation. Seems they had perfect radio contact until they started to take pictures of the caterpillar nests, which I presume is the large cocoon that you people are poking at."

Patrick was keeping information from us, which was to be expected, but just pissed me off. Right now we could be working toward our real goal when instead we're miles away from home looking at the nests of killer caterpillars. Still, Patrick knew more about this stuff than we did.

"With the amount of nests we've found, these are going to create hundreds of butterflies." John had opened a hole in the nest and was staring at the writhing caterpillars that filled its interior.

Looking in, Robby laughed, "These are aren't gonna be butterflies. They're gonna be moths. I recognize the type. I've never heard of them making nests this size though."

By the time we noticed that it had gotten unusually dark it was too late. What ever had blocked out the sun landed on the ground with a thump. A blast of wind sent us all flying in different directions all at once.

I felt the radio slip out of my hand as I smashed into the upstairs of the inn.

I tried to lift my head but decided to black out instead.