Sunday, May 31, 2009

The Beginning of the End or The End of the Beginning?

"Hi everyone. I'm Mike and I'm a werewolf."

[Group: Hi Mike!]

"In the past, I've always told this group about my latest research into the origins of traditional folk and fairy tales. I've told you how 'Little Red Riding Hood' and, surprisingly, the 'Three Little Pigs' are based on actual events involving werewolves and were-boars. Most recently, I was digging more deeply into a relatively little known story from Grimm's Fairy Tales called 'Bearskin.' If I didn't have more important things to discuss, I'd tell you about the story. Anyway, I'd turned up some information leading me to believe the man in the story could have been a were-bear. To continue the research, I needed access to some old, old records only available with permission from the German government.

"I presented my credentials and said I was researching the origins of the tales recorded by the brothers Grimm. I didn't mention were-bears. That tends to get doors shut in your face. Governments love to have people research the positive aspects of their culture, particularly the Germans. I think they get so many people doing research on Hitler and the Nazis that they practically roll out the red carpet if you want to perform some other research.

"My research was going well and it was looking like I could add 'Bearskin' to my list of ALPS fairy tales, when I made my big discovery. I was carefully handling a town register that was nearly five hundred years old when I noticed a faint notation in pencil in the margin of the book. The notation was next to the name Hans Schleimer -- the person I suspected was my were-bear. It read 'ALPS' and then had a few numbers below it.

"ALPS wasn't discovered as a disease until the early twentieth century, so the notation had to be a lot more recent than the register. I looked at the numbers and realized they referred to a location in the archives. Curious, I jotted down the numbers, put the register away and went in search of the archive location. What I found was a heavy metal door blocking my way. The door knob didn't have a lock so someone had put a big padlock on it. A sign painted on the door said access was for authorized personnel only.

"This wasn't the first time I'd run into a locked door while performing research. It happens more often than you'd think in my business. Historians blocked by a locked door have two options. They can waste precious time filling out lots of paperwork and trying to convince unsympathetic bureaucrats to grant them access. Or they can pick the lock. I picked the lock.

"It didn't take long to find the archive I was looking for. One glance at it was enough to show why the records were locked up. Rather than read the documents there, I took out my digital camera and took photos of everything. Twenty minutes later, I slipped out and locked the padlock. Then I went back to the register and erased the penciled notation that led me to the locked door.

"Folks, what I've got to tell you affects every one of us. Before I get started, I want to impress something on you. Something vitally important. I've got some friends watching this building and the surrounding area. If anything goes down, they'll call my cell phone. Here's the important part -- if I tell you all to run, then clear out of the building and run like Hell. Transform if it will help, but do not be caught here!"

[Person in the group: You're kidding, right?]

"No, I'm deadly serious. And I can guarantee that I'll be running if that phone call comes. I guess in fairness I should ask if anyone wants to leave now without hearing what I have to say? In the long run, not hearing it won't protect you and might hurt you. But it's your choice. So, anybody want to leave?"

[The group stirs a bit but no one leaves.]

"All right. What I found out from those documents is that the strain of ALPS we all have is not the original strain recorded in history. With the original strain, people with ALPS transformed only during a full moon. They transformed during every full moon and their humanity was completely overwhelmed by their bestial form. They had absolutely no control over themselves at all. There were a few exceptions, my ancient relative who was the wolf in the events that inspired 'Little Red Riding Hood' was one. But they were either aberrations or, more likely, had some recessive Dark Life genes."

[Person in the group: Dark Life? You mean that's real?]

"Yes, Dark Life is real. Dark Life isn't really a good name for them, but it's what they call themselves so I'll stick with the term. Dark Life is a recessive genetic disorder. Anyone with the disorder has powers similar to the ones ALPS gives us. Dark Life has been with us since the dawn of man. They can transform into creatures from our worst nightmares and our oldest legends; creatures such as the wendigo, the yeti, the troll and the banshee. These creatures are nightmares to us because the Dark Life disorder also has a profound effect on the brain. I suppose you could say it drives them mad, but there's more to it than that.

"People with the Dark Life disorder eventually come to believe themselves superior to mankind, to believe themselves as 'chosen ones.' In their warped world view, mankind exists solely to serve them, both in the traditional sense and as a source of food. Fortunately for us, the recessive trait only breeds true between two Dark Lifers. That has kept their numbers down through out history -- until recently.

"When Mendel's genetic research came to light in the twentieth century, it was only a matter of time before a Dark Lifer figured out the implications. In the past, Dark Lifers usually avoided each other, preferring to carve out their own little little fiefdoms where they ruled mercilessly. Now, they actively seek each other out, hoping to expand their numbers so they can step out of the shadows and rule openly.

"I learned some of that from the documents I found in the locked archive. But, as I said earlier, I also discovered new information about ALPS and a surprising connection to Nazi scientific research. In their various round ups of the Jews, the Nazis managed to snare both people with ALPS and those with the Dark Life disorder. Once it was clear to the Nazis what they had, those people became central to a major research project.

"By the time the project began, the tide had turned in World War II. The Nazis were slowly but surely being driven back toward Germany. In the hopes of sowing chaos and disorder among the enemy, project Wehrwölfen was devised. The Nazi plan was to infect SS volunteers with ALPS, have them penetrate Allied lines and wreak havoc among the Allies. The problem with the plan was that people with ALPS only transformed during nights when the moon was full. The Nazis needed full time chaos, which the original ALPS strain couldn't provide. They also couldn't afford to have their volunteers lose control while transformed because the Nazis needed the attacks to have some intelligent direction behind them.

"It fell to a small team of Nazi geneticists and virologists to solve the problem. They worked in secret for over a year, attempting to graft some of the traits of Dark Life onto the ALPS virus. In the end, they succeeded, creating the strain of ALPS we all have today. The new strain allowed those with the virus to transform at will and to access some of their powers without transforming. The new strain was also more virulent, with a nearly one hundred percent infection rate among those who were bitten. One thing the Nazis couldn't quite pull off was insuring that human intelligence would always remain in control. The bestial nature of the transformed person could still take over in times of extreme emotion; stress, fear, excitement, what have you.

"Despite that set back, the Nazis went ahead with the program. Their army had been pushed back inside the borders of Germany by then. For them, it was a situation of 'now or never.' They infected their Wehrwölfen volunteers with what little of the virus they were able to manufacture and set them loose.

"The Wehrwölfen had no real effect on the war but they managed to infect many soldiers from all of the Allied powers. When those soldiers went home, they took the new strain of ALPS with them and spread it further. Worse, some of the scientists who worked on the project fell into the hands of both Soviet and American forces. As the cold war began, both sides continued their research into ALPS. I can't tell you what may have come from that research. I doubt we'll ever know.

"If you wonder why Dark Lifers hate us, it's because they see us as poorly made versions of themselves; bastard children unwanted by their progenitors. That's what is behind this sudden drive by Reverend Riley and his 'Internment or Death' crowd. Dark Lifers think they're close to having the numbers to step out of the shadows and openly take over. Meanwhile, they're still working behind the shadows, gaining positions of power in governments around the world. They're-"

[Mike's cell phone rings. Mike pulls it out and looks at the caller ID.]

"Ah, crap! Run, people! Run now!"

[Mike turns and runs for the back door, transforming as he runs. For a second or two, no one moves, then everyone begins running for the exits. Ninety second later, heavily armed men in black uniforms storm into an empty room.]


"Squad One to Alpha. They've cleared out. The room is empty."

"Roger, Squad One. Join Squads Two and Three. Chase them down. Capture if possible, terminate if not."

[The members of Squad One transform, taking on the form of huge, black dogs with glowing red eyes. They sniff the floor briefly then join the chase, baying hellishly as they run.]

Sunday, May 24, 2009

The Big Question

"Hi everyone. I'm Hank and I'm a werewolf."

[Group: "Hi Hank!"]

"It's been a busy few weeks for me since Michelle and I went down to visit my folks. You remember that my mother tried to push some of Reverend Riley's crap on Michelle. Well, I decided to talk to my parents and sort of beat around the bush on that subject. So I gave them a call, supposedly to find out what they thought of Michelle.

"I called and they each took one of the phones, like they usually do. When I asked about Michelle, Dad told me I was a lucky man to find a fine woman like her. Told me I'd be a fool if I didn't propose to her real soon. Mom wasn't saying anything, so Dad sort of repeated himself then said, 'Isn't that right, Sally?' That's my Mom's name, Sally.

"Mom hemmed and hawed a bit, but finally admitted, 'She really does seem to care about you, Hank. And that's in spite of your...affliction.' Mom never could say 'ALPS' or even call it a disease. She never called it a 'taint' around me, either, but now I know that's what she thinks.

"Knowing what I know, the next thing I said was a bit mean. 'You always told me not to keep any secrets from the people I love, Mom.' She was pretty quiet after I said that, so I continued. 'Michelle knew I had ALPS before we went on our first date. Heck, she got at least as angry as I got when we stumbled on a rally put on by that Reverend Riley!'

"Mentioning Riley set Dad off something fierce. He ranted and railed for few minutes before winding down. Mom just stayed quiet. Dad and I talked a bit more than I hung up. I don't know what I was expecting to happen. Maybe have Mom break down and beg forgiveness or something. Anyway, it didn't happen.

"But that's the only depressing stuff that's happened lately. Remember a while back when I sort of inherited the coaching position for a youth soccer team made up of kids with ALPS? Well, I don't know much about soccer, but I know a fair bit about learning how to control ALPS and even how to take advantage of it. I've been spending more of our practice time teaching the kids to control themselves than I have working on soccer. The parents of the kids tell me things are a lot calmer at home since I took over coaching, which is all the victory I need!

"Still, we play games every week and I noticed the kids were getting better each week. We didn't win, but we started losing by less and less. Then, last week, the kids finally got the concept of drawing on their ALPS powers without transforming. Just in time for the last game of the season against the only undefeated team in the league.

"I feel kind of bad saying I don't like that team. I mean, we're talking about a bunch of six year old kids, but they had this whole 'jock' attitude going. They were pretty young to start that up, but I figured they were getting it from their coach. Before each game, he'd call his kids into a huddle and shout, 'Who's going to win?' His kids would all answer, 'We are!' Then he'd shout, 'Who are we going to beat?' The kids would all point to the opposing team and shout, 'Them!' He did that several times before telling his kids to go 'Kick some grass!' That kind of thing pretty much pissed off everyone else in the league, me included. This time he made it worse by adding, 'We beat those kids by ten last time! I want to win by fifteen today!'

"My kids were already feeling pretty down because they hadn't won a game all season. That last bit really got to them. I called them together before the game started. 'Okay, guys, they think they're going to win just by walking on the field against. I think it's time to show them some of the stuff you've learned in the last few weeks.' The kids all looked around a bit then Taylor said, 'But we haven't learned any soccer stuff, Coach Hank!' I nodded, 'That's right, but you've learned about controlling your ALPS powers. Try to kick in some of your powers without transforming. You'll be faster, stronger and react a lot quicker. Now get out there and show those other kids what you can do!'

"I've got to say I wouldn't have suggested kicking in the powers if the coach hadn't gotten me so mad! Still, I figured those guys deserved a lesson in humility. And boy did my kids ever give them one! Our defense was so quick the other team hardly got any shots. When they did, our goalie grabbed them up easily. Meanwhile, our offense was just as quick and really strong. Maybe too strong. Jimmy, our were-bear, scored on a shot from mid field! We really took it to the other team. The difference is that I had our guys start taking it easy after we were up five to nothing. We ended up winning seven to nothing.

"We did the 'good game' walk after the game and the other team seemed sort of dazed. Except for their coach. When he got to me he got all up in my face and started talking about drug tests and cheating and stuff like that. He's one of those guys who lifts weights and looks really strong. I guess he figured a guy like me would back down. But I'm not scared of bullies any more. Kicking my strength up, I grabbed a handful of shirt and lifted up off the ground. 'Don't you ever accuse my kids of cheating! You lost. Take it like a man!'

"Then I realized the kids on both teams were watching and I dropped him. 'Sorry, boys. I lost my temper for a bit. I guess I just can't stand bullies.' Anyway, we held an end of season party near the field and the kids forgot all about losing most of their games and my outburst. That's one great thing about kids that age; feed them some cake and ice cream and they forget about everything else! The kids are excited about playing next season and the parents want me back as coach. It should be fun!

"Finally, the script for the movie my friend Luke -- he's Michelle's brother -- has been working on is finally done! He sent it off to his agent last week and the agent is really excited about it. He thinks this is just to the right to have a werewolf movie aimed at adults, especially one that isn't just an excuse to splatter blood and guts. Luke's already headed back to Los Angeles to start working on the deal. Get this -- he's going to make sure Michelle and I get hired on as advisers about ALPS and SCABS! He's talking some big bucks for us, too, especially compared to what I was making selling used cars!

"With things finally looking up for us, I think I'm ready for another big step. I know everyone is all worried about Reverend Riley and Dark Life and strange stuff happening at the Department of Homeland Security, but I'm not going to let them ruin my life."

[Hank reaches into his pocket and pulls out a very small box. Inside is a diamond ring.]

"I'm taking Michelle out for dinner after this meeting and I'm going to ask her to marry me!"

Sunday, May 17, 2009

Run, Rabbit, Run

Good evening everyone. This is Deep Gullet. This will probably be the last time I show up to these meetings. Who knows this may be the last one we are allowed to have one.

I’ve been doing some digging ever since I saw that mountain troll posing as the Homeland Security Chief. I can’t go into too much detail if I want to preserve your safety but I will tell you that I am taking my family and we are getting off the grid. We’re going into hiding based on what I have found. I can tell you that I believe that Reverend Riley and the support for internment is coming from the Dark Life puppet masters.

I know there’s some in this group in particular that are trying to get a movie made to bring ALPS into the mainstream. I implore you to abandon these plans. The Dark Life will never let this come to light. It won’t be long before the Dark Life manipulates the government and media and make us enemy number one instead of a pathetic little minority with a tragic disease.

You all need to understand that the Dark Life hates us more than they hate the humans and their hate for humans is legendary. They view us as imitation Dark Life. They view us as a poor facsimile of the real thing trying to harness the powers of darkness that they feel they rightfully own. They are satisfied with subjecting humans to bondage, but will take great pleasure in eradicating us.

You might be asking why would they want to get rid of us since most of us didn’t ask for this burden, They answer to that is that the Dark Life doesn’t care where we got the burden, they will be more than happy to remove it from us…forcefully.
I beg you, please take your families and disappear. Death is coming for us all and we won’t know what guise it is going to take until it’s too late to stop it.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

Miguel Checks In

“Hey everyone, it’s Miguel.”

(EVERYONE: Hi Miguel!)

“Wait. I started that wrong. How’s this? Uh, hi everyone, I’m Miguel, and I’m a were-wolf.”

(EVERYONE: Hi Miguel!)

“So… anyhow… I know I haven’t been around much lately. Been too busy to show up. Well… not REALLY too busy, but… time gets away from me.

See, I lost my regular job and I’m just freelancing now on random stuff. And by freelancing, I mean basically doing nothing because almost nobody’s hiring freelancers. Sure, I get the occasional computer-fixing job or html gig… but things are slow. Glad I’m single or I’d really be toast.

Now I’m not naturally a lazy guy, so I’ve set some tasks. It wasn’t until I started coming here that I really came to grips with my ALPS. Hank helped me with that. Before… I just ignored it. Of course, now that it’s getting all political, if you ignore it – you’re likely to end up in Gitmo or wherever they’re sending “enemy combatants” these days.

Anyhow, my main task has been researching stuff about paranormal creatures. Like us, right? Ha. So... most of my research has involved archival footage. For example, last month I watched the 1931 version of Dracula with Bela Lugosi. Interestingly, that film tied in werewolf legends with vampire legends.”

(Someone in the audience boos loudly)

“I know, I know. Most of us aren’t fans of the necksuckers. But… watching Dracula made me think. Could there be a common thread connecting weres with vampires? People around here have starting talking about ‘Dark Life’ lately, and trying to make it like we ALPS victims are also part of some deep dark thread that runs through history… connecting trolls, chupacabras, Barbra Streisand and goblins or whatever. I’m not sure about that. But it does make me think a little that we might know a lot less than we think we do.

So… after watching Dracula, and thinking about how hard it was to follow and how poorly paced… it made me really feel down about life. So… I killed and ate a particularly annoying neighbor. Not intentionally, of course…it was on accident. But this guy… my gosh… he was driving me batty! Up all night… cranking up the bass on his car (a black hearse, by the way), having all these pale pasty druggie looking chicks over constantly for 2:00AM pool parties – it was NUTS!

And I was already in a funk from being unemployed. And it was a full moon. I was trying to get some sleep and he cranked up the radio one too many times. I looked out the window… he was out in front of his house, just fiddling around with his car door open. No one else there. So I walked over, irritated. And he looked at me with a drop-dead look… and I transformed… and tore him to shreds.

But… then I noticed his teeth. Uh-oh. One of those. Should have FREAKING guessed that… but with all the stupid goth punks around here, you don’t except a real creature of the night.

Uh… so now I’m worried. Could I end up with SCABS? Am I more susceptible because I already have ALPS?"

(Someone yells “NO!”)

"Well, I hope not. But I’ve started taking garlic capsules just to be sure."

(Miguel starts to walk off the stage – then returns to the mic)

“Oh… and if anyone is hiring right now… can you guys let me know?”

Sunday, May 3, 2009

Scott's Exit

What a change two months can make. The last time I saw Scott, he'd had a bad relapse and was a mess. Tonight...

I dunno. I think I liked the mess better.

"Hi kids," he said, as cool, cocky, and obnoxious as the day I first met him.

"That's not the way you start," Tom reminded him. "The traditional way is by saying, 'Hi, my name is Scott, and I'm—'"

"Bugger tradition," Scott said. "And maybe my name isn't Scott. And maybe I'm not even a were-anything."

Tom sighed heavily and started rubbing his forehead, as if he was suddenly developing a migraine. "Don't start this crap again, Scott."

"I told you, I'm not Scott. I'm Secret Agent Delta Tango Mango Foxtrot Alpha."

Hank boggled. "What? Did I miss something here?"

Tom sighed again. "Scott is convinced that we're all under surveillance. That we've got an informant in the group."

I laughed. "An informant? In a public meeting? That is just nuts."

"Strictly speaking," Scott said, "it's paranoid schizophrenia, with delusions of persecution." He shrugged.

"And sometimes it's the only rational response to the situation."

Hank shook his head. "Now I know I missed something. Geez, you go out of town for one weekend—"

"I don't know how you missed it," Scott said. "It was all over the frickin' news. The Department of Homeland Security is investigating possible links between ALPS and domestic terrorism. They think WCA meetings are being used as fronts for recruiting dangerous radicals."

"Ah," Tom said. "You get this stuff off the Internet, don't you? No, the DHS is looking for right-wing domestic terrorists."

Scott smiled, in that smug way I've come to hate. "You forget, kids. I've got friends inside DHS. That 'right-wing' memo everyone was buzzing about two weeks ago was just the cover story. The real deal is us. And when the head of DHS dropped that Freudian slip last week about screening people in airports for medical problems and then sending people on to their destructions, that was about us."

Hank shook his head. "No, you're confused, Scott. That was about Swine Flu."

"You can believe that if it makes you feel better, Hank, but there never was any Swine Flu. It was all just a dry run, to see how fast they could scare people into changing their lives just because of virus. You wait until the stories about the ALPS Pandemic start breaking next week."

Tim nodded. "Yeah! I knew it! That's why they're buying up silver!"

Tom sighed one more time, and then sat up straighter in his chair. "Okay Scott, I think we've heard enough. If you're not here tonight to be serious—"

Scott flashed on angry, for just a moment. "Oh, but I am serious. I am so frickin' serious you've never seen serious like this before." He turned to the rest of the group. "And strange as it seems, I've come to like some of you people in the course of the past year. A few of you I ever consider friends. And that's why I'm here tonight.

"Hank? You and your Michelle, you be careful. She's got Stoker's Disease. That's what my friends say the people inside the CDC are calling it now, and they're also working up a little thing called Project Molokai. Look it up. Some of what you'll find on it is true.

"The rest of you? They've coming for us, kids. And I for one don't intend to make it any easier for them. Which is why tonight is my last night here. And if you're smart, it'll be your last night, too."

And with that he turned and walked out, his thousand-dollar hand-made English shoes ticking across the floor like a time-bomb.

"Well," Tom said, at last. "That was... interesting. Okay, who's next?"