Microstory 1282: The Werewolf and the Wife

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In those early days of misunderstanding, a young werewolf pup became separated from his family, and his pack. He had to grow up in the woods alone, having long forgotten where he came from, and not knowing if there were others like him. He could turn himself into a boy, sure, but he lived like an animal. Over time and with no family, this wild side of him took over, and there seemed to be no hope that he could ever live amongst others, of any kind. The regular wolves could tell that he was different, and they wanted no part of him. Years later, he was taken in by a family, and raised there with their teenage daughter. “He will only hurt you,” their neighbors would say. “It is in his nature, for he is clearly much more wolf than he is man.” But the family did not listen, and they decided to help him learn to be part of something larger than himself. While they were all there for him, the daughter was largely responsible for teaching him how to be a civilized human. The werewolf grew further, and got himself an education. He held onto his studies, and eventually made his way into academia, where he became a professor of Werewolf Sociology at a prestigious university. He married the family’s daughter, and she continued to help make sure that he did not forget his manners. This was a far cry from the naked animal-boy he was before.

This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called The Cat-Maiden.

The Advancement of Leona Matic: Prime

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Vito and Khuweka split the group in half, and teleported everyone back to the Prototype. Kallias tried to hand the goggles over to Leona, but she figured it would be best to keep all their ingredients separate, for now. She possessed the Compass of Disturbance, and Kivi was in charge of the Book of Hogarth, because Hogarth herself didn’t want nothing to do with it. Vitalie kept the Incorruptible Astrolabe in her bag, Hogarth had the Rothko Torch, Khuweka kept the Jayde Spyglass, and now Kallias could hold onto the HG Goggles. Once everyone was inside, Leona interfaced her tattoo with the machine once more, and started up the engines.

“How long will it take to get there?” Kivi asked, increasing her volume with every word, as the engines grew louder and louder. “Some of us won’t live forever!”

“We’re here,” Khuweka said, interpreting the screens. It was one thing to speak Maramon conversationally. Reading the script, and understanding the monitor outputs, were entirely different skills, so they still needed her to operate this thing.

“Really? Wow,” Vitalie said. “Why did the last one take months?”

“The Composite Universe, and Universe Prime are quantum entangled with one another,” Khuweka began to explain. “As far as hyperdimensional relativity goes, they’re right next to each other. When the original Prototype exploration crew found what we call the biverse, they decided to stay away from both of them. Most human civilizations die out before growing too technologically advanced to become a threat to us. The residents of the biverse are exceedingly more powerful than anything you’ve ever seen. The only reason we were safe in the Composite was because that world, at that time, was largely abandoned. When we step out to Earth here, there’s no telling what we’ll find. Tread lightly, I will probably go invisible.”

“This is Earth, though,” Hogarth asked.

“Yes,” Khuweka said. “Though it is a very different than your own, much is the same. Technology, for instance, has advanced at about the same rate, according to a strikingly similar arbitrary calendar.”

“What year is it right now?” Leona asked as she was looking at a very underdeveloped village a couple hundred meters from their position.

“Sixteen-ninety-nine,” Khuweka answered, looking at the monitor again. She turned away from it, but did a double-take. “Oh, sorry. Negative sixteen-ninety-nine; about seventeen hundred years before the common area, and the birth of some random guy named Jesus.”

Though she was strictly atheist, Leona’s husband was born and raised Catholic. Fortunately, Mateo didn’t exist in the timestream, and no one else here seemed to be offended by Khuweka’s remark. The way Leona understood it, disparate universes were completely unrelated entities, and quite unlike alternate realities. Even Earths that began with the same start values would have developed under radically different conditions, resulting in not a single individual from one having an alternate version in another. Still, there seemed to be some exceptions to this rule, in some cases; apparently people whose lives so profoundly impacted history. Donald Trump, Adolf Hitler, and Jesus of Mary and Joseph, appeared to exist in multiple branes, which they shouldn’t, suggesting some level of quantum entanglement that permeated the bulkverse. What about these few people led to multiple versions of them having been born? Then again, human beings themselves ought to be extremely rare in their familiar form, due to minor differences in the environment in which life evolved. Perhaps these constants were simply quirky extensions of whatever principle allowed humans to be so unrealistically pervasive.

“There’s someone at the door,” Kivi pointed out as she was looking at the view monitor. Her comment was quickly followed by a knock on that very door.

Vito set down his drink, and walked over to the entrance with a strut. “I will protect you from harm,” he said, embracing his immense power. “Can I help you?” he asked, out of sight of either the camera, and blocked by the antechamber.

“Step aside,” came a reply.

Leona recognized that voice. She ran over, and tackled Missy Atterberry as she tried to round the corner. “Oh my God, you’re here. It’s been so long!”

Missy hugged her back, but with only one arm. The other was missing.

“What happened?” Leona asked.

“Occupational hazard,” Missy replied after Leona finally let her go. “I’m the one what caused the Crossover to explode. My arm didn’t survive.”

“I can build you a prosthetic,” Hogarth said. “Hell, you come with us back to our universe, I could regrow your limb.”

Missy shook her head. “Not possible. The most advanced scientists in the biverse have attempted. There’s a neurological block between my brain, and the nerve-endings. A lot of people experience something called phantom limb, which causes them to feel pain from appendages they’ve lost. I have the opposite condition, where my brain is indissolubly aware that my arm is no longer there. I can’t even trick it. I’ve survived, though.”

“I’m so sorry,” Leona said.

“No,” Khuweka said. “I’m sorry. I’m the one what did this to you. You wouldn’t have been in the machine had I not dropped the canister of Serif nanites.”

Missy smiled lovingly. “That was millennia ago, I’m totally over it. I’m a doctor now. I can diagnose absolutely any illness.”

“How did you know we were coming?” Leona asked her. “You couldn’t have just happened to be living in the area?”

“I planned my travels accordingly,” Missy explained. “A friend of mine predicted your arrival. If he’s not busy, you may meet him. Come. It’ll be easier to turn this thing invisible if you’re already outside of it.”

“You knew you could turn things invisible?” Khuweka asked Missy.

Missy laughed as she ushered everyone out, one by one. “Of course. I just diagnosed my own time powers.”

“Damn, I should have thought of that,” Khuweka said.

“You’ve spent your whole life as an immortal,” Vito said comfortingly. “You probably never had reason to wonder how your body works, because it never breaks down.”

Once everyone was outside, Missy turned the Prototype invisible, and synced up her teleportation coordinates with Vito and Khuweka, so they could all jump at once.

Leona looked around with wonder. They were standing in the middle of a bustling city. There weren’t any skyscrapers, but there were streets, and electricity. “I thought this was the second millennium BCE. Did you jump us through time?”

“No,” Missy said. “This island was founded by aliens from a different universe, just like us. They call it...Atlantis.”

“Atlantis?” Vitalie asked. “I’ve heard of that from other choosers. The powers that be supposedly live here.”

“It’s a different Atlantis,” Hogarth tried to explain. “Remember?”

Missy laughed again as she walked up to a door, and rang the bell. “No, it’s not. There is only one Atlantis in the whole bulkverse.”

A man opened the door before anyone could ask Missy what the actual hell she was even bloody talking about.

“Meino, these are the ones you foretold would come; my friends from my homeverse.”

Meino looked them over, not with suspicion, but curiosity. “Have the council responded to your requisition?”

“They’ve not,” Missy responded. “I was hoping you could put in a good word.”

“They’re not just going to hand a weapon of mass destruction over to a bunch of random travelers.”

“Yes,” Missy agreed, “they’re travelers...from the universe of origin, which means it belongs to them more than anyone.”

“That doesn’t mean it belongs to them,” Meino said. “Now, if they had some sort of family claim to the artifact, I might be able to convince the council. Otherwise, I doubt my words would hold much sway.”

“We have a family claim,” Hogarth said. When everyone looked at her, she lowered her head in embarrassment. “My wife is the mother-in-law of the lighter’s original owner, Lubomir Resnik.”

“L.R.,” Meino said as he stared at Hogarth. “It’s engraved on the bottom of it. The museum always suspected it was a personal item.”

“It was a gift from a mage who fancied him,” Hogarth continued. “Rumor has it they were having an affair, but that was never confirmed. He had the power to form a mental map of everyone on the planet, and communicate with them telepathically. Well, it was more like hypnotism.”

“That makes sense, based on what the muster lighter can do. Very well, I will call in as many favors as I need to make this happen for you.”

“Thank you, Meino,” Missy said. “You are a good witch.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said nonchalantly as he stepped out of his house, and let the door close behind him. He then jumped up, and flew away like superhero.”

“What kind of time power lets you fly?” Kivi asked, eyes wider then a dinner plate.

“He doesn’t have a time power,” Missy said. “I just said it, he’s a witch. He has telekinesis.”

While the group waited for word on whether they would be allowed to take the Muster Lighter out of this universe, they had a beachview picnic. Those most concerned with how the powers that be maintained control over salmon pressed Missy for details on the matter. Leona, specifically, wanted to request audience with them, assuming this council of leaders were the ones responsible. Missy was clear that the council had nothing to do with it, and in fact, could do nothing to stop it. What was happening to Leona and the other salmon in their universe would not come to pass in this universe for many, many years. There was simply nothing they could do at the moment to affect any change. It was out of the question for them to somehow jump forward in time, and do something about it then, because that could prevent Leona from getting Mateo back. She resolved to come back later, hopefully further in the timeline of Universe Prime.

Meino contacted them about an hour later, and informed them the council was still considering their request, but would need to hear a plea from the family. When Hogarth stood up to go with him, she exploded.

“That seems like something the powers that be would do,” Kivi noted. “Why does she keep disappearing, if they don’t have control over us anymore?”

“She’s not salmon,” Kallias answered her. “Nor was she born a choosing one. She’s hypothesized that she was infected with temporal energy when the machine that she built exploded. Though the explosions seem random, she believes time is aware of itself, and is reacting to something in the timestream. We’ll probably never know what triggers them, if anything.”

“If she can’t speak,” Meino said, “the council will need someone to speak on her behalf. Or you can come back later, it doesn’t matter to them. No one else is asking for the muster lighter. Could you do it?” he asked of Kallias.

“I will,” Leona said. “The lighter may belong to her by way of family, but I’m the one who’s here to use it. I should explain to them why.”

“Very well,” Meino said. “One of your friends can teleport you, or I can let you fly.”

“Oo, fly,” Kivi said excitedly. “My mama always said, if someone asks you if you want to fly, always say yes.”

“She always said that?” Vitalie questioned. “She ever said that?”

“I wouldn’t mind the experience,” Leona said to Meino.

After becoming a time traveler, Leona saw and did a lot of things. She met famous historical figures, battled super powerful villains, and even died a few times. Nothing could compare to the feeling of flying through the open air. Her only regret was how small the island was, though it seemed like Meino was taking the long way around to give her more time. They flew onto the balcony of the top floor of a highrise, and walked right into the council room. A group of people were carrying on with their own conversations, and only passively acknowledged their arrival. They were an eclectic bunch. One of them was drinking what was either a bloody mary, or just blood. It did look like she had fangs, and her eyes were a vibrant shade of violet, so Leona was inclined to assume she was a vampire.

Once they were finished, the council leader spoke, “is this the relative of the original owner?”

“I am not,” Leona replied. “She is indisposed.”

“She’s lost somewhere else in time,” Meino clarified when the council leader looked to him.

Leona continued, “She was here to help me, however. I require the muster lighter in order to bring my husband bank from nonexistence.”

The council looked amongst each other. “How do you remember him if he no longer exists?” one of them asked her.

Leona rubbed her belly deliberately. “I’ve felt the evidence.”

They nodded, understanding her situation better than she would have expected. “We accept this change,” the leader said. “I am Council Leader Erica Phoenix. How will you use the artifact to retrieve your husband? How does it have this power?”

“It alone does not seem to,” Leona said. “My source indicates it will be working in tandem with several other objects, each with their own power. This source is designed to give information piecemeal, so I couldn’t tell you exactly how it will work, if at all.”

“The lighter is a powerful tool, but also profoundly dangerous. We believe it’s already been reverse engineered for nefarious purposes. Our inhouse seers do not see good things happening with this technology. Their visions, however, cannot reach beyond the biverse. How can we be assured of your good intentions?”

Leona took stock of what she had learned since arriving here. Meino was a witch with telekinesis, that woman was almost certainly a vampire, and the wolf at the end of the table was demonstrating active listening skills. People who could see the future were mentioned on multiple occasions, and technology this island utilized was far beyond anything that should exist in this time period. The leader’s name reminded Leona of an entity she once met named Monster, who referred to itself as a phoenix. She took a stab in the dark, and guessed there were lots of other wonders she had not had the pleasure of encountering. “I would be happy to submit to a telepath, or an empath.”

The council members looked at each other again. Maybe they were all telepaths, and never needed to say anything out loud. “We have decided to trust you. Besides, my great great grandchild vouches for you.” She stood up, prompting the others to do the same. “I’m afraid we must dispense with ceremony, however, as we have run out of time.” She pulled a lighter out of her pocket, and tossed it over to Leona. “Safe travels. It is my understanding you’ll be dealing with the bladapods next. Good luck with that.”

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Microstory 854: Between Man and Wolf

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When I was a child, my grandmother would tell me stories of a new species that showed itself to the world when she was younger. They were hideously deformed, but a naïve girl had convinced them to reveal themselves, believing that people would treat them kindly. While no one was hurt or anything, the creatures decided it was best to go back into hiding, and eventually, the truth of their existence was transformed into legend. No one in my day believed they existed, but I was always convinced. I spent my entire life savings on a trip across the ocean, and to the Dolomiti Forest. It took me days to figure out exactly which village housed the girl from the stories. I was surprised to learn that she was still alive, but also unwilling to help me in my quest to meet the hyperintelligent Dolomiti wolves, and learn from them. So I began my search the hard way, tirelessly trekking through the forest, looking for any evidence of an intelligence, and just hoping they hadn’t move somewhere far away in order to avoid people like me. Finally I came across their encampment, and the pack that lived there. It seemed that I had merely found a group of a few dozen humans who lived amongst some very large wolves. They greeted me politely, provided me food and a place to sleep, and told stories around the fire. Of course, they told them in Italian, so I didn’t understand a word they were saying, but they sounded wondrous. Though they did not speak English either, they clearly understood that I was there to see whether werewolves were real, so they made it clear there was nothing to be found. Still, I was suspicious that the rumors could have been borne simply of a tribe who had domesticated wolves. I indicated that I was leaving, but instead circled back around to watch them in secret. I soon learned that I was right, but the reality was even more astonishing than I was told. The wolves in the camp, thinking no one else was around, could transform themselves into humans. Meanwhile, those I met as humans were capable to turning themselves into wolves. The stories were true. They were all true, and more. Smiling at my success, I left for real, respecting their wishes to remain a secret.

Years later, I was still in Italy, having fallen in love with the city of Verona, and also a man. I told no one of what had brought me to the country in the first place, or what I had ended up experiencing, yet out of the blue, he suggested we take our honeymoon in the Dolomiti Forest. Thinking there was no way we would run into the werewolves again, I agreed. What we didn’t know was that the area was experiencing a severe drought, and resultant forest fires. Many woodland creatures had died, or been forced from their homes. It was not uncommon recently to see a herd of deer on the road, or an owl in the daytime. We still wanted to go on the trip, though not so much on a honeymoon, but to see if there was anything we could do to help. We were staying in that same village again, which had actually grown since I first visited. We were eating outside when a young wolf came up. Though he was thin and malnourished, he was quite a bit larger than your average wolf. His fur was mangy and dirty, and he was obviously thinking about eating us. The only thing that stopped him was that there were two of us, and he was probably trying to find a way to incapacitate us both at the same time. He attacked me first, but since I had lived my life well-fed, I was able to knock him away from me. I yelled at my husband to run away, which he did for a few meters, but couldn’t bring himself to leave me entirely. Yet he stayed back when he saw me take a brick paver from the ground, and threaten the wolf with it. “Yes,” I said to him in Italian. “You know what this is. It can be a weapon. Show yourself.” He just growled. “Show yourself!” I yelled. “I know what you are; that you know what I’m saying.”

Cautiously, he absorbed his fur, twisted his bones, adjusted his face, and stood up. Now in human form, his sickliness was even more obvious. “Please,” he begged. “I’m just hungry.” I told him that I understood completely, and that I was perfectly happy to help. We gave him the rest of our food, then we took him back to our room, and let him sleep in the bed, while my husband and I shared the corner on the floor. My husband, the more proper of the two of us, watched in horror as the werewolf ate breakfast like an animal the next day. He had quickly accepted what this individual was, but didn’t agree with the way behaved. He said that the forest is no longer an acceptable place for him and his people to live. We were evidently going to teach him to be civilized, and if it worked, we would do the same for the rest of his pack. The wolf looked between the two of us, and seemed amenable to the idea. But then in one final surprise, he asked, “what about all the other packs?”

Microstory 749: Puppy Foot

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When Almevary Balik was but a few months old, as her parents claim it, her first words were puppy foot. As impressive as it was that she spoke at such a young age, and that the utterance was composed of two words, it was even more impressive when considering how unlikely it is she even once heard the pair combined. Puppies have paws, rather than feet, and her family was made up of strictly cat people. She had essentially come up with a term on her own, which is something adults do every day, but infants, not so much. The phrase stuck with her, as family members would brag to anyone within earshot how intelligent and precocious Alma was. She herself couldn’t hear the end of it either, and when her rock band was trying to decide on a name of themselves, it was the obvious choice. Alma was the band’s frontwoman, and business leader. There were many small venues available to perform in, but she knew which ones to accept, and which to turn down. She did her homework, researching bigger and bigger names that were at all involved in the music industry, tracking their movement. Basically, she was looking for them to be discovered without it being obvious. Though the gigs they chose did not necessarily pay well up front, knowing who was in the audience paid off later. In months, they were skyrocketing to stardom, first by being an opening act for Peter Fireblood, and then being invited to tour with You’re Bad Grammar. Puppy Foot was soon a global phenomenon, but good things are never meant to last. Alma started receiving uncomfortable messages from one of her fans. In once sentence, he would speak of their destiny together, then her brutal death in the next. She contacted the authorities, but they were unable to do anything about it without a name. Over time, her stalker grew bolder, showing up as a shadow behind her on the street, and then sneaking into her trailer to move objects around. Still, the police could not catch him, because he did not so much as show his face to her once. Theoretically because this distant gaslighting was becoming too impersonal, one night, he decided to take things to the next level, and confront her directly. She was alone in her apartment when a werewolf burst through her window, and started growling at her. She tried to reason with him, but he refused to back down. We may never know exactly what the stalker werewolf intended to do, for as he stood up and prepared to attack, Almevary Balik grabbed the nearest object; an elvish star flute. She swung it towards him, and sliced off his whole front paw. This distracted the stalker long enough for her to get away, and find help. He bled out in her livingroom before he could be arrested.

Microstory 598: Group of Ambers Provide Aid Following Disaster; Form Paramilitary ‘Brigade’

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In the days following the unexpected onslaught of Hurricane 905-11 on the coast of Carolina, a record number of volunteers traveled from all over the country—and even internationally—to provide aid to those in need. Hundreds of people were killed, thousands of people were injured, and millions of people suffered damage to their homes in the most damaging tropical cyclone in recent historical memory. The people who gave up their time and money to help perfect strangers who lived hours away from them are, without question, heroes. Experts believe the high number of volunteer aidsman can be attributed to the invention, and proliferation, of the home radio receiver, but this does not take away their bravery. It has shown the world that humans are probably inherently good, and that those who can help, likely will. But a special group of these people did more by taking this horrendous event, and turning it into something good. The Usonan government and its military were unable to engage in their rescue efforts in a timely manner. We are still so technologically inadvanced that organizing and mobilizing an entire national guard in times of crises is difficult, at best. Fortunately, there were those in the area who could fill in for official rescuers until they could arrive.

Roloff Hopson formed The Amber Brigade two years ago in order to create an amber community in northeastern Georgia. Though ambers have generally felt no hostility from the standard human population, many appreciate having a place they can go, knowing that everyone around them has at least this much in common. The name was meant to be more a joke, with plans to rename it based on suggestions from its then-current members, but this never happened, and they all just agreed to keep it. As it turns out, they couldn’t have picked anything better. Up until now, the Brigade has met two or three times a week at an abandoned theatre that Hopson’s late aunt had bequested to him upon his death. Hopson and his new friends, which numbered a few hundred now, were at one of these meetings when news of Hurricane Eleven broke out. A few of them immediately wanted to spring into action, and do whatever they could for the victims. These few possessed abilities that gave them each an advantage against water, wind, or debris...but they were not the only ones who wanted to take action. Soon, a dozen more followed, then another dozen, and then more...until only children and single parents remained. Nearly all of them caravanned to the most dangerous areas affected by the storm, and began rescuing people. Totals for their rescues have not yet been calculated, but it’s estimated that they saved the lives of at least as many people as they had in their own group.

For the rest of the month, the Amber Brigade continued to support the survivors of Hurricane Eleven, working in shelters, transporting people to families in other regions, and searching for anyone who may be trapped or stranded. Meanwhile, Hopson and the rest of the organization’s leadership began talks for transforming the Brigade into an actual paramilitary agency. Details have not yet been finalized, and they still have a long way to go in order to comply with all national laws, but we already know a few things. This new Amber Brigade will allow membership from anyone; including regular humans, vampirs, and werewolves. Though still to be based in Augusta, it will include chapters in multiple major cities, and be expanded on an as-needed basis. The ultimate goal of the Brigade is to create as many chapters as possible, spread out across as much of the country as possible. While the military branches of the government cannot possibly be stationed in all places, the Brigade will supplement their forces with volunteers. It will also require far less of a commitment than that of an aidsman, and be focused primarily on relief and service, rather than military strategies. In fact, Brigade leadership is currently working with government representatives in order to determine whether any military training should be added in the at all. An official announcement will be held over the radio today from the capital. New information, including the steps necessary to join, is expected to be provided at this time.

Microstory 597: Last Giant Dies

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The shortest-living intelligent species in the world was the giant, and the ultimate consequence of this fact was realized yesterday when the last giant died following a life of heart disease, along with other health complications. Wizards first drew up the plans for giant humans centuries ago, though never actually created them, likely due to the problems they eventually endured. Unfortunately, the fairies ended up getting their hands on this information, and had no problems acting on it. The average human is about 7.5 sheam in height, with the upper limit sitting right around 10 sheam. Species that are related to humans, like elves and veratope, tend to fall within the same range. Meanwhile, werewolves and dwarves are generally shorter. Giants, on the other hand, average twice the size of the standard human, towering over the ground at 20 sheam. Prehistoric avians, of course, could get much larger than that, but they evolved with certain biological characteristics that prevented them from experiencing the same issues as giants did. The first thing to understand is that scaling up a creature does not require a linear formula. Though giants were twice the size of us, they were eight times our mass, which meant that they weighed upwards of two shemratra, which is equal to 2,080 sheamtra. This made them the heaviest beings living on land at the time. Cetaceans only survive as heavy as they are by benefiting from weightlessness perception in the ocean. This is what causes beached whales to die; their organs can’t withstand the weight of each other. Land animals do not possess this advantage, which means that giants were literally unable to move.

Giants were discovered in the Bogs of Linctavia decades ago, having apparently been left there by the fairies, which are notorious for abandoning their experiments and creations. The water and mud of the bog allowed some movement, but not an adequate amount. The giants had somehow managed to develop some kind of symbiotic relationship with the marble fintys in the area. Marble fintys are known for their evolutionary quirk wherein they never learned what their bodies were capable of consuming, which means they eat just about everything, and regurgitate anything that their digestive system can’t handle. These strange birds figured out that they could do this near the giants, and that not only would the giants not harm them, but other predators would avoid the area for fear of them. Sadly, not even this was enough to keep giants alive as their numbers experienced diminishing returns over a few short generations. The last giant was named Kirabo Endison, and his last words were, “take care of my [pet marble finty] Faven.” He was seven years old, and is survived by all of us.

Microstory 579: Rangers Assure Public ‘Vampire Uprising’ Unlikely

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For the last few weeks, whispers of a “vampire revolt” have been spread across the country, and the world. For as long as history records it, vampires and humans have been living alongside each other with few issues. Amber humans began sporting their special abilities several centuries ago, while werewolves showed up in the 17th century. Other than a few territorial squabbles, this diversity has not created any significant level of violence or oppression. Not a single major war has been fought over race, even while certain extremist hate groups attempt to instigate them. As far as the general public is concerned, we all accept each other. Whether you survive on blood donations, or you can see in the dark, or you are descended from wolves, we’re all just people. Some believe, however, that one of the fringe factions has decided that enough is enough, and that it’s time to make a change to how society operates. In the central west of the Usonian state of Utah lies one of the sunniest regions in the world. With very little natural covering like trees and mountains, the Canary Desert sounds like the last place one would find a vampir. This is exactly why the Utah Militia, which is run exclusively by vampirs, decided to stake its claim there. With seemingly unlimited funds, the UM imports fresh blood from Idaho, the number one exporter of human blood, every day.  They are said to inject themselves with ten times the recommended human blood dosage for the average adult vampir. They train tirelessly when the sun is at its highest, they are built to live amongst humans in even the most dangerous of environments for their ilk, and their manifesto includes the line that “no human is safe”.

The UM started as a frustrated few, tired of relying on humans to provide for them the necessary dietary requirements for basic survival. It has since morphed into a horde of angry vampirs with a goal of human domination, believing them to be nothing more than walking bags of bloodfood. Conspiracy websites have begun disseminating claims that this hate group has shown uncomfortable signs of escalation, and that they may have found a way to infiltrate the mainstream. Conspiracists cite unverified evidence that the Utah Militia has purchased, or stolen, particularly suspicious products. A specially formulated skin dye has recently hit the market—as of now unapproved by the any nation’s health regulatory body—with the potential to hide any vampir’s natural purplish hue. Supposedly, copious amounts of the lotion has been shipped to a small town near Canary Desert. A product not yet on the market at all, that is still in the testing phases, has also gone missing, with trails reportedly leading to the UM. The as of yet unnamed clothing line, nicknamed The Blood Jacket, is a proprietary medical device researchers hope will one day counteract the effects of the infrared radiation to which vampirs are vulnerable. Though the Vampire Rangers generally provide assistance for other law enforcement agencies, they often take it upon themselves to investigate threats that come from vampirs. They have released an official statement, assuring the public that they are taking every lawful precaution when it comes to the Utah Militia, and also that they have found no evidence that any claim of their intentions to “take over the world” is true. Only time will tell, but if it turns out this group has access to this kind of technology, not even the human isolationists along the equator will be safe from their wrath.

Microstory 502: Deformed Wolves Come Out of Hiding

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Dark creatures from the woods have been reported in multiple villages all across the French countryside. Descriptions varied, but one thing these reports have in common is that the animals were all said to be wolf-life. These animals have all now come out of hiding and revealed themselves to the world. They seem to have human-like qualities as well, appearing to be some sort of cross-breed between wolves and humans. Leading philosophers are unable to come up with an explanation for their true nature, and claim that a hybrid species would be biologically impossible. Still, witnesses say that there is no denying some kind of connection, and have already begun to refer to them werewolves. The first human known to interact with a werewolf directly was a young girl named Scarlett Capello. She had this to say:

Yes, I have been taking care of my friend, Barnabas, for the better part of a month now. He and his kin are in a great deal of pain, and need a lot of attention. They agreed to come out of the shadows to ask for your help. If anyone, with any experience with animals, has any ideas, they would be greatly appreciated.

This help has apparently come in the form of a coven of witches from Namibia. This reporter was unable to have access to their rituals as witch practices are strictly private, but an inside source has revealed that the main concern now is pain management. Experts expect werewolves to have a greater lifespan than regular wolves, but one still shorter than humans. This story will be updated in later issues as more information comes in.