A War of Shadows...Part 1

The Shadowland whizzed by in a blur of grey and black images as I slowed a move fast trot. It was proving difficult to move too quickly through this stretch of wilderness since thick, twisted and very substantial trees existed both in the Shadowland and in the real world.

John had once told me that this only happed in the oldest of forests. “As trees age, their spirits strengthen, expanding their presence beyond the world of light to the land of shadow. It is almost as if their essence transfers slowly from one world to the next once they reach the height of their majesty. In some places in the Shadowland there are majestic, towering trees where there is now nothing but fields or cement roads in the world of the living. But alas, over time, those forests fade away in the Shadowland as well once the living trees have been gone long enough.”

My guess was that this stretch of Alaskan wilds hadn’t been significantly touched by Man for hundreds, if not thousands of years.

The howling of my pursuers grew louder, likely both because they were drawing closer and because their numbers were growing. If I didn’t pick up the pace soon, they would be upon me.

I tapped my forearms for reassurance, making sure that my batons were securely in place. Excalibur was practically humming in its sheath, eager to be called upon, but I continued to ignore the blade. I didn’t want to make it that easy for my pursuers to find me.

I pushed deeper into the tangled mass of branches as I wondered how much further it was to my destination. It was going to be a close call as to whether or not I would be able to beat my pursuers to it. If I didn’t win this race, things were going to become very unpleasant.

It wasn’t the shadow wolves that concerned me, but their masters…


***


“Rusty, you got a minute?” Herne’s face was showing the strain of several weeks of stress.

“Yeah, Herne, what’s up?”

He nodded and took my left arm by the elbow. “Come walk with me.”

I allowed him to guide me deeper into the Bat Cave, through the control room and towards the privacy of the small library that had been designated for command-level meetings. It was one of the few places where people weren’t bunked down.

Once we were in the library, he closed the door. I was surprised to see that we weren’t alone in the cramped space. Ravyn, Cerrydwen, the Frau, Alan and Jim had been waiting for us.

“What’s going on?” I was extremely curious about the need for a seemingly secret command meeting.

Everyone remained silent until the door clicked shut and Herne threw the bolt into place to lock us in. He was the first to break the silence. “Rusty, we think that our enemies have found a way to track some of our away parties through the Shadowland.”

This was a new development. “What makes you think that? I didn’t think that was even possible.”

Cerrydwen answered. “No one did. But the evidence is beginning to mount that El Diablito or the An’girasii themselves have found a way.”

Herne nodded. “On the last supply run, Jordan, one of Alana’s students, heard the sounds of what seemed to be wolves of some sort as soon as they entered the Shadowland to make their way back here. Jordan was smart enough not to lead them here, but led them off towards Canada before going to ground back in the real world. Once he could, he called for help. I just got back from that mission myself. I took a few of the security team with me. We ended up hitting a pack of shadow wolves that kept hanging around where Jordan and his crew had left the Shadowland. One of the creatures only looked like a wolf when we hit them. It was really a Doppelganger. It managed to jump one of the men in all of the confusion and escape.”

“Shit. So if they can track us in the Shadowland, it may only be a matter of time before they manage to track us back to the Bat Cave here.”

The Frau nodded, her eyes showing her concern. “That’s why we wanted to have this meeting in private. We’ve suspended all travel in and out until we can figure out the danger those trips are actually posing and how seriously they are looking for us.”

Ravyn was the next to speak. “Right now, Rusty, you’re going to be the only one we allow to travel in and out. We are also wondering how willing you would be serving as a decoy? I know how much you enjoy getting yourself into trouble.” She gave her most impish grin as she finished, knowing that I would take the bait.

I could see the logic of their thinking and nodded. “Well, if they are looking for any of us more than the others, I would certainly be the main target. But I am also the one best equipped to face any kind of attack as well.”

Cerrydwen’s eyes narrowed as she stepped forward to speak. “You are most familiar with the Shadowland and its strange rules. If you were willing to go out and wreak some havoc on a couple of their strongholds and make a lot of ‘noise’, it might attract the attention of whatever forces they have looking for our away parties.”

Herne folded his arms across his chest. “And, if you found that there was some basis for our concerns about being tracked, we would like to see about setting up an ambush…”


***


I had spent the better part of a week stomping around the Shadowland and the real world, stirring up trouble in a number of places. In that week, I had doubled back and slain the wolves that had picked up my trail on at least three different occasions. But it only took a few hours after each battle for a new, larger pack to catch my scent and begin the hunt anew. The pack that both trailed and flanked me now must comprise at least twenty individuals.

This pack, though, was not only larger and better organized than the last couple, but it was smarter. This pack wasn’t comprised solely of shadow wolves. There was some thing, or a group of things, that were just behind the wolves. I could feel it, them, there driving the wolves on.

I pushed on through the forest of giant black trees knowing that my allies lay in wait ahead…


***


Once I had confirmed that the wolves were indeed able to track me in the Shadowland and that there was a concerted effort to do so, I slipped back into the real world to make a phone call.

“Yeah?” Herne’s voice was gruff.

“It’s me. I’ve been tracked twice now. I’ve eliminated the wolves each time, but a new pack takes over within hours for the ones I kill.”

He grunted. “So our worst fears have been confirmed. Are you prepared to move forward with the plan as we discussed?”

“Yes. I’ll see you at the rendezvous point in three days time.”

“Are you going to be able to stay ahead of them?” There was concern in his voice as he asked that question.

“I’ll be fine. Both Drake and John taught me well. Just be ready for the party when I get there, I intend to bring as many of to the event as I can find.”


***


My destination was only a few hundred yards ahead. My pursuers seemed to sense the coming climax as well—the howls grew louder and more insistent. The pack behind and around me had grown in the last hour as well. I could sense the presence of at least one Bane and had glimpsed a group of Reavers out of the corner of my eye. I could only presume that several Doppelgangers had joined the pack as well.

As soon as I emerged onto the trail that Herne had told me would be there, I picked up the pace and gained a few valuable seconds in my quest to beat the enemy to the rendezvous point. I just hope that Herne had been able to get everyone into place in time…

Anthraximander

Well, I suppose it is time to wrap up the events on the tanker.

You will have to pardon me if you find significant differences in the way that I tell this tale as opposed to how our dear Rusty would do so. He seems to have taken to this online journaling/writing business, while I write merely to convey information.

The Bane—an old foe that I have known since our run-ins during the Bronze Age in Ancient Greece as Anthraximander—was caught entirely flat-footed by our maneuver. Anthraximander had anticipated that he would be able to create problems for Rusty because of all of the vestiges of the Drashe’en that remained within the poor lad, but he had not anticipated that Rusty would be willing to surrender his body to me.

Before I could deal with my old foe, however, I had to regain control over the Drashe’en insurgency and put ‘Ma Grendel’ (that is a fabulous name for the old gal, if I don’t say so myself) back into place. It was easier for me that it was for Rusty simply because I am just as ruthless and evil as that old bitch ever was. In short order I used my Will to shatter her into the multitudes of shards that Rusty refers to as ‘the Voices’ and shove those pieces back into their appropriate places.

Anthraximander had stood there watching, assuming that his spell was working as planned on Rusty. Ever since I was very young, I have realized that my own ‘Spirit form’ (to use another Rusty-ism) is completely invisible to even the most powerful Casters, it is something that has served me very well over the millennia. Knowing that the Bane would be unable to discern that I was now in control over Rusty’s body, I staggered to my feet and acted as if I was moving to sit upon the throne of the dead that he had wanted Rusty to sit in.

One thing that I have tried to pass on to Rusty, especially in dealing with An’girasii and their servants and allies, is that it is useless to spend much time talking to them. Rusty always seems to find himself engaging in conversations with these creatures, which is completely useless. The one time he had success against a doppelganger was when he used that damn sword of his to lop its head off without any discussion or warning. These creatures use conversation, discussions, and speeches to measure up and then deceive their foes as their weave their own hidden spells to take advantage of their prey. The most effective way in dealing with these enemies is ruthless, merciless, and sudden violence.

Take our friend Anthraximander for an example.

He is rather typical for a Bane. Banes are creatures of almost pure Spirit. They don’t have physical bodies of their own, so they have to possess someone—usually just a normal person of any race or sex—and then consuming the victims’ own Spirit to fuel the transformation of that body into a form that the Bane perceives as having the maximum intimidation factor for other humans. The process of possessing, then molding and shaping that body takes several years at the minimum, and can take decades. By taking on forms that most humans see only in their nightmares and then surrounding themselves with a cadre of undead Reavers, all while wielding equal amounts of magick and fear Banes usually avoid any physical confrontations.

If Rusty had taken my advice from the beginning, he would never have listened to Anthraximander in the first place. He should have continued acting like the killing machine he was designed to be, and left the talking for another time. Instead, he treats these creatures like he’s a liberal social worker on a mission to solve all of the world’s ills.

I didn’t make that mistake. Before Anthraximander could figure out that his tightly woven spells were now useless, I barreled into him, snapping his staff like a twig with one blow. As the creature staggered back and stumbled, I wrapped my left arm around its head and dragged him down in a head lock.

He knew he was in trouble now as I felt the panic rise within him. His scrawny, pasty bald head was now uncovered, revealing the twisted, warped face of a once young Asian man. “What are you doing, Brother?”

I smiled. “You old fool, Anthraximander. You’re not dealing with the kid any more. I hope you didn’t invest too much time in this body, you fool, because you are about to lose it.”

“Only one human knows that name…it cannot be…”

I smiled again as I yanked the head off of its scrawny neck.

The Banes screamed in pain and defiance as its physical body collapsed in a heap. Its Spirit slipped from the body and gathered into a dark mist that hung in the air in front of me.

“How is this possible?”

I dropped the early bloodless head onto the floor and turned my back on the now virtually harmless mist before replying. “I am not inclined to aid you in answering that question, Anthraximander. But, while you search out a new body, you might contemplate what new tactics you and your kind will need to deal with the likes of me again. You caught the kid unaware this time, but that won’t happen again, I can promise you that. Now move along. I have things to do here.”

The black mist that was all that was left of the Bane gathered into a tight ball as I glanced back at it and passed through the hull of the ship into the daylight beyond.

Now that the Bane was physically destroyed, the band of Reavers that depended on its power would collapse back into lifelessness.

As the throne behind me melted into a pile of rotting body parts, I turned and stood over that damnable sword. I could feel its hatred radiating up at me. I couldn’t leave a sword like this laying on this ship would soon be swarming with disgusted sailors and Coast Guardsmen, so I knelt down and held Rusty’s gloved hand over the white hot hilt.

“Look, Blade. I know you detest me as much as I detest you. But let me pick you up long enough to sheath you in that place where Rusty has devised for you and then you can wait for him to return. I will not attempt to use you in any fashion.”

It relented for the brief moment that allowed me to pick it up and sheath it, allowing it to slip back into the Shadowland.

I left the cabin and headed to the helm of the ship, passing the bodies of the Reavers that now lay motionless where they had last stood.

Once at the helm, I pushed aside the slumped body of the Reaver that had been steering the ship and pulled back on the handle that controlled the speed of the engines. Slowly the ship began to stop its forward motion.

Last, I slipped back down to the deck long enough to find the flagpole and hoist the Coast Guard flag that Rusty had been given by that Commander.

I didn’t stick around to see the reaction of the assault teams.

Brother Mine...Part 2

Hearing and feeling that voice caused something deep and dark within me to stir. That part of me wanted desperately to reach out to its kindred.

I had to stop for moment and focus my Will on tamping down those vestiges of Ma Grendel that wanted so desperately to be free once again.

I knew that the Bane would be able to hear my response using the same magick that it had used to project its own voice, so I didn’t bother to yell my response. “Unless you are prepared to surrender to my blade freely, Dark Brother, there will have to be further violence. Feel free to restrain your beasts for now, if you like, but I will be disposing of them shortly in any event.”

I got moving towards the wheelhouse again, swor held in my right hand at the ready position.

“Yes, that is the human in you speaking, Little Brother, but I am looking forward to showing you who you really are. I want to awaken the Drashe’en within. You will find me waiting for you in the captain’s quarters of this miserable vessel. The Reavers shall not molest you further.”

I didn’t bother to respond, but I also didn’t trust his word, so I kept the sword out and ready as I found the door that would lead me into whatever trap this creature had laid for me…

***

As I passed through the maze of passageways and portals of the crew quarters, I witnessed the carnage of the Reavers. Blackened, rotting body parts and sticky, fly infested pools of blood lay scattered throughout, each spot marking the place where one or more crewmembers had met their untimely deaths. For once, I was glad that I lacked the ability to smell. I could only imagine the stench of this place.

My ‘brother’ must have instructed his servants to stay away, because I only their shuffling steps and their garbled moans as they fled before me. Excalibur continued to glow and hum in my hand, it seemed as eager as I was to rid this ship of these pests.

I could feel the presence of the Bane as I moved deeper into the ship. That feeling manifested as a sort of cold tingling sensation that grew colder and stronger the closer I seemed to get to it. As that sensation grew stronger, the darks whispers within me clamored all the more to be heard.

“We hunger!”

“Feed us!”

“Let us answer the Call!”

Ignoring them, I came to one last door. It was closed, but I knew that the Bane waited on the other side. The cold was so intense, that I shivered out of instinct, though it did no good. I had no metabolism to jump start.

I reached out to turn the handle of the door, only to see the knob shift seemingly of its own accord. I resisted the urge to shift into Spirit Sight as the door opened, remembering how the Doppelganger on South Beach had blasted me with some sort of spell that had blinded me. I didn’t want to take that chance with this thing.

The room beyond the door was lit only by the pale sunlight that found a way to trickle through the porthole of a window. It may once have been a finely furnished room, but was now a disaster zone of mangled metal, smeared blood, and broken wood. In the corner farthest from the window, my nemesis sat waiting for me, his towering form seated on a makeshift throne made up of bloated, human corpses that had somehow been molded and twisted into shape. Across his knees lay the staff that I had seen in the blurry video image, while each hand rested on a vacant looking skull.

The voices inside of me were nearly ecstatic with renewed lust.

“Take him!”

“Feed us!”

“He must become one of us!”

I stepped into the room, sword held out in front of me with both hands.

The creature stood up, it was tall and spindly and would have banged its head on the ceiling of the chamber if it had stood to its full height instead of stooping its shoulders. It had to be at least eight feet tall, but was very thin.

Moving with a grace and speed that belied its gangly appearance, the creature slipped to the left of the throne and stooped to one knee, waving with the ebony staff in its right hand towards the throne.

“For you, Master. I am at your command.”

Brother Mine...Part 1

After what seemed an eternity of floating over the turbulent maelstrom that was the ocean in this place I spotted the tanker. It rode through the inky black waves, cutting a path straight towards the mainland. The deck of the vessel shimmered with a green, sparkling light that swirled and moved in malevolent waves of its own, passing around the shadowy figures that I assumed were the Reavers. The Bane was nowhere to be seen.

As I began to descend, I drew Excalibur and drew the Shadow close about so I could pass from this place to the mundane world. Just as I reached the edge of the strange sparkling light, I struck out with the blade. Excalibur glowed white hot as it cut into the spell that created that light and destroyed it in an explosion of light and force that blew me back with enough force to send me crashing against the rail of deck just as I transitioned between the two worlds.

Somehow, I had been able to retain a grip on the sword even as I struggled to regain my balance and stand up. The sword pulled my hand up into an overhead parry of the attack of the first Reaver, blocking the blow from a fire axe with a metallic clang.

I looked up into the vacant, soulless face of the former pirate. His right eye hung loose from his skull because the flesh surrounding it had long since rotted away. The tip of his nose was missing, leaving a gaping hole that showed a tangled mass of blackened cartilage and raw meat. The creature regarded me silently as he brought his axe back up for another powerful swing.

“Shit, and I here I thought I was pretty ugly.”

Sinking back against the railing, I parried the second blow with the sword again and reached out with my left hand to grab his rotting trousers and belt. In one swift move, I stood up while still holding the creatures clothing and hefted it up and over the railing behind me and into the ocean beyond.

Two more of the Reavers were coming towards me from the prow of the ship while a third clambered down onto the deck to my right from a ladder that led up towards the glass enclosed cockpit three stories above.

I turned to face the two since they were closer and moving faster. The larger of the two held a large spear like weapon in both hands with a long razor point on one end and a wickedly curved hook on the other end. The other Reaver held a pistol in its left hand and a cleaver in the other. It raised the pistol to take aim at me as the other slashed out with the hooked end of its weapon at my legs.

The muzzle of the gun flashed and a bullet slammed into my chest, but I was more worried about the hook sweeping towards leg. Excalibur flashed out and then down, slicing the right arm of the larger Reaver off at the elbow before slicing into the wooden haft of the weapon and sending the metallic hook flying to skitter across the deck. Another wicked slash sent the Reavers’ head spinning to join the hook as I turned and heaved the headless body into the smaller Reaver, disrupting his next shot.

Seeing an easy opportunity to take out the second Reaver, I gathered the Shadow and stepped through into the Shadowland. I passed around behind the foe as it tried to untangle itself from the still thrashing headless body of the other one, and returned to cleave it right down the middle. Both halves of that body and the headless body all collapsed into twitching heaps of tangled limbs and splattered gore.

Excalibur swung back up into a guard position as I stepped over the quivering mass of undead flesh and set myself to face the third Reaver that I had seen earlier. The only problem was that there was no other Reaver to fight.

Instead, a voice rode on the wind towards me, calling out in a grating, echoing whisper that still conveyed its message perfectly.

“Brother mine, I have recalled my Reavers. Surely there is no need for further violence?”

Homeland Insecurity...Part 3

I closed down the SecureNet connection from my laptop and sat back, thinking.

I was obviously going to have to get on that damn ship, but how strong was that…creature…with the staff? Were those undead crewman zombies or were they some other kind of unknown undead creatures? What were these things doing on a tanker full of crude oil heading to the US?

As I tried to come up with some coherent answers to those questions, I remembered a snippet of the really long conversation that I had with Drake at Yggsdrasil this last time.

***

“My father and the rest of the An’girasii will not try to take direct control of any population, but with use their angelic image and the religious imagery of the people they are trying to fool in order to gain control of their hearts and minds.

“They have any number of very dark and evil looking servants who serve them in secret. The Doppelgangers are one example but there are others as well. It should be quite obvious by now how the Doppelgangers operate. But you haven’t yet seen the full arsenal of servants that the An’girasii have to call upon.”

“So why don’t you enlighten me then, Drake?”

He laughed. “Rusty, you have no idea how many of humanity’s nightmares are based in reality. The An’girasii have dozens of different orders of secret servants that they use to sow terror, chaos, and discord so that they can ‘ride’ in to save the day.”

“Such as?”

“Well, if you haven’t seen them already, you are likely to soon encounter the Banes and their servants the Reavers.”

“What the hell is a Bane?”

“The Banes are a race of foul creatures that have been some of the most reliable and predictable servants of the An’girasii over the eons. They are tall, thin creatures that cause disease and terror wherever they go. Many of the worst epidemics of disease in the history of human kind were caused by their activities. They are also Casters of tremendous power; each one would be a good rival of El Diablito on the scale of raw power, although their powers tend to be more focused darkness, shadow, deception and Necromancy. I have known some to have command over elemental powers such as water or air as well, but those are rare.

“The Banes have been dormant for quite some time. The last time I faced them was during the Black Death that ravaged Europe, but I have heard that some of them had gone to ground in very remote locations in Africa and Asia. Wherever the Banes show up, they are likely to be accompanied by a retinue of Reavers.”

“So what are these Reavers then?”

“Reavers are created by Banes from humans they come into contact with. They are usually low-life riffraff such as criminals, pirates, mercenaries, or other types of men who harbor a certain amount of evil within themselves. The Bane promises these men (very rarely will they be women) eternal life and power beyond their comprehension to serve them. They immediately gain an almost supernatural strength, the ability to ignore even grievous wounds, and the inability to experience pain. The longer they are around the Bane, however, the more of their life energy is consumed by the Bane. Almost all of them die within weeks, but then the Bane animates their bodies, calling forth other dark Spirits from beyond the veil to animate the corpses. They are then officially Reavers. The Spirits that are called to serve as Reavers are chaotic and evil in nature, reveling in death and destruction.”

“You know Drake, there’s something awful familiar about this who Bane and Reaver scheme. The Bane promises eternal life and power, eh? I seem to recall some similar discussions with you.”

“Bones, I did what I had to do. I make no claims to being a good person. If I hadn’t taken those actions, you wouldn’t be in the position that you are now in.”

“You prick. If you hadn’t created the Omega Project, none of this shit would have happened in the first damn place.”

“Sorry Bones. However much you might like to think so, I didn’t cause all of the woes of this world. Events have been in motion for hundreds of years, ever since I last helped to defeat the An’girasii. With the rapid changes in human society over the last couple of centuries, I knew that I would no longer be able to defeat the An’girasii and their servants again by myself. I needed allies who were strong enough to face these foes with or without me. The Omega Project accelerated things perhaps a little faster than I was prepared for, but now that I am unable to participate in the battle, you are here to fight in my place, with a set of allies (and even perhaps some enemies) who can help you in this fight.

“You have the strength of the Drashe’en flowing through you now, Bones. You have a body that is as indestructible as I once was, and you have the drive and enthusiasm for the fight that had been ebbing from me.

“Your charge that I had resorted to the tactics of my enemies is all too true. It is precisely that reason that I have fallen. I could not have won this coming battle. I don’t know for sure if you can either, but you and your allies will have a far better chance than I would have.”

That left me speechless for a moment.

“OK, so how do I defeat these creatures? Tell me everything that you can…”

***

“Damn, a Bane is on the move already.”

I reached down and picked up my cell phone. I clicked through the menu, found the last number that called me, and hit the call button.

“Hello, Commander Stennos? Yeah, this is Agent Bones. Tell me your location and I will be there within the hour. I think I might be the only one who can help you with this current situation.”

Homeland Insecurity...Part 2

Dear Agent Bones,


The situation is critical and time is very short, so I will be brief.

Approximately 2 weeks ago, the MV Horn of Africa, an independent supertanker flagged out of the Philippines, was hijacked by a small band of pirates in Indonesian waters. All radio communication with the crew of that ship was lost at that time.

That tanker is now steaming at full speed toward the California coast, apparently heading towards Long Beach. At its present speed and course, it will reach that port in less than 24 hours. It does not respond to any of our radio transmissions to stop and be boarded. We have made two attempts to intercept this vessel in the last four hours. On the first such attempt, the tanker failed to alter course or slow down to be boarded. We attempted a high speed boarding maneuver with several smaller boats, but suffered several casualties in the attempt due to the weather and the uncooperative tanker swamping several of the boats before they could get into place.

A second attempt at boarding by an airborne assault team was scuttled when all three helicopters experienced electronic problems as they approached within a couple of hundred yards of the vessel.

This tanker is riding low in the water and is presumed to be full of crude. We have the firepower in place to disable this vessel, but we would run the risk of creating a significant oil spill that would contaminate several hundred miles of California shoreline, which would be an ecological disaster.

To be honest, I don’t know that you can assist in this situation, but I have been referred to you by my superior officers. I have enclosed links to two different video streams of the failed airborne assault of the vessel. Please review this footage and let me know if you can provide any assistance that would avert any potential ecological damage.

Sincerely,

Cmdr J. Stennos
US Coast Guard


I clicked on the link to the first video stream. It took a few moments to for the software to load up and build the buffer.

The first image was of the blurry profile of the immense tanker as the first chopper approached it from the side, not very high above the waves itself.

The cameraman panned down the length of the ship along the deck, but the relatively low altitude of the cameraman meant that the few figure visible on the deck were indistinct. Just as the chopper was rising in altitude and the cameraman was able to begin a focusing on a tall figure walking toward the front of the vessel, that figure pointed a stick-like object towards the camera. The image dissolved and went blank.

Frustrated, I clicked on the second link and waited for the buffer to finish loading up.

The grainy footage began with a distant shot in front of the approaching tanker. The vessel was too far away, and the image too blurry at first, too make out any detail. As the copter and the tanker drew together though, the images became much clearer and the details easier to make out.

The operator of the camera used a zoom feature to get a good view of the bridge of the vessel, showing a shattered window that revealed a strange figure at the helm of the ship.

The figure used to be a man, but his race or ethnicity was no longer apparent, since what flesh remained was black with decay. Large white patches of skull clearly showed through. His eyes were the only thing that seemed to be animate. I noted an eerie resemblance of his bright red dots of fire with my own eyes. Something nefarious was animating this corpse.

As if in response to this gruesome, unbelievable image, the cameraman quickly shifted the lens of the camera to the deck below, near the very front of the ship itself. A small group of figures stood in a loose circle formation.

At the center of the formation was a figure that was taller than the others, but it was stooped over. It was covered by hooded cloak that billowed back in the breeze of the sea, but its body was still obscured by dark robes beneath. The figure leaned heavily on a staff.

Five other smaller figures stood in a loose circle around this central figure. These other figures appeared to be wearing the remnants of t-shirts and jeans, their skin resembling that of the pilot of the vessel, hanging in loose, blackened chunks.

The central figure stood up to its full height, pointing its staff with one long, skeletal thin arm towards the camera. The image disappeared into grey fuzz and then ended altogether.