"Computer, run performance, Vulcan Troupe, 'The Last Days,' place it on the large screen."

The computer beeped and I heard the opening Narrator's voice in the other room. "Computer, large bowl of kettle corn, please."

The replicator produced a large plastic bowl of lightly sweet smelling popcorn. Geoff Triston turned me on to this stuff. I liked how the sweetness never overpowered the salt and buttery taste on the popcorn. Nice invention the humans did back then, most enjoyable. I grabbed the bowl of popcorn and walked into the Livingroom. The narrator was a leathery skinned male Vulcan. I sat down and thought 'Rank Hath its privileges.' Lant's quarters and the two VIP rooms have large screen viewers too,

"Sodurl claims that his performance follows well established protocols and rules of acting. His display of emotions is merely mimicry and therefore should not be seen as an actual display of emotions. Sodurl maintains that he is an actor and that his portrayal of characters is strictly re-actments. I would like the audience to judge Sodurl's statements logically and induce your own evidence."

The screen faded out and the performance began.

From the text description of 'The Last Days' the performance was supposed to be about Vulcan's last few moments of violence. Sodurl played the part of Prince Lanscha, the last of the evil oppressive tyrants who challenged the new wide range teachings of Surak.

I laughed through most of it. Sodurl acting was wooden, however, certain scenes he seemed to put feeling into the performance. Most of the time he would merely state the emotion instead of acting it out. "I am sad and I am crying," "I feel anger over the situation," "I am happy and you will not die today." It seemed more of a wry comedy to me and I made a mental note to not mention it to T'Irs. So, I sat through three hours of -- acting. The bowl of popcorn had long been finished and I found it interesting, if a bit dry and a study into the minds of Vulcans.

The performance ended and I thought, 'such a waste of talent.' And laughed. Then I felt guilty. T'Irs has this for a reason and ergo it must be important.

I got up and walked over to my desk. The message light flashed. I sat down and read the text descriptions of today’s batch of files from Starfleet and other parts unknown. More stuff from the Academy. There was a list of Der-sep instructors assigned to T'Irs: Lant, Foster, and Kar’nl, and the name of a new crewmember. I frowned and read the orders. 'One Bert Russell, Lieutenant, original attachment, Starfleet Headquarters.' Oh, one of those. Some button pusher made an Admiral happy and had a choice of assignments. Looks like the Johnson was getting an EMT and Security officer. I looked up his Dossier. After reading it I decided he was too clean and white bread for my taste. I would never have picked him. There was a Vid message attached. "Computer, play message."

The screen flickered and a tan skinned Human male appeared. My inner alarms went off. He looked too lovely to be anything but eye candy or a waste of space. "Hello, Captain Scar'an. My name is Bert Russell. Hopefully you received my orders. As you probably suspected I was nice to one of the Admirals --" He smiled, "and they allowed me to make some choices as to my next assignment. I picked a deep space explorer." He leaned forward, "I really am qualified and more than willing to show you. I do look forward to serving under your command. Russell out."

I sat back, thinking. The man came across as likeable and eager. Not only was he eye candy he seemed to know some etiquette. The alarms soften but never stopped. He may indeed be a brilliant officer waiting to get away from the desk jockeys. I decided Lant's special ability to weed out the chafe from the wheat will be especially useful on this one. I pushed the comm button, "Mr. Anderson?"

"Yes, sir?"

"How much longer until we reach Starbase 412?"

"Another three days, Sir."

"Thanks." I clicked off.

I had several hours to kill before T'Irs and I would do our next Holodeck Adventure. She wanted to do one of the Gaslight Hunter Vampire adventures and I promised I would not look up anything before hand. It was tempting, but when you have a wife who can read your mind lying is a waste of everyone's time. Instead, I decided to look up Lant. Lieutenant Commander Cranston was going to stand three watches, which allowed Lant and myself to be off together. I knew she was in one of the Holodeck rooms playing some sort of combat mission. Krunare gave it to her as a gift. Krunare was happy for an entire week.

 

I stood in front of the Holodeck room door. It opened and Lant walked out. She was wearing an old 20 th century fighter pilot suit; at least, I thought that’s what she was wearing. “Exciting?” I asked.

She nodded, “Yes, indeed. Nothing like shooting down A6M Zeros and Messerschmitt Bf 109s in a Sopwith Camel.”

I laughed. Leave it to Lant to fly a wooden canvas covered biplane against two of the deadliest aircrafts during Earth’s Second World War. “What about Klingon fighters?”

She sang out, “Boring, Sir, but you wanted to see me?”

“Yes, I did. How would you like to accompany T’Irs and myself on one of her adventures?”

She laughed loudly. “T’Irs already invited me.”

“Really?” I should have guessed. T’Irs tends to out think me. I nodded. “Okay, then you have everything you need.”

Lant nodded, “Yes, Sir, my outfit is ready.”

Gaslight Hunter: The continued adventures of Matt Maverick
and Miss Lynn Mei

Episode V

Krunare came running. “Sorry I’m late Captain. The computer had to replicate larger versions on my outfit. I tore the others by mistake.” He looked embarrassed.

I wasn’t going to ask how he managed to do that. “No problem, Krunare, but once we enter the room, I’m no longer Captain.”

“No longer, Captain?”

I nodded, “I’m Matt Maverick, renowned big game hunter. T’Irs is Miss Lynn Mei. Lant is – T’Irs, what are their names again.”

T’Irs said, “Commander Lant is Miss Elizabeth Jackson. Her nickname is Lizzie. Lieutenant Krunare is Abraham Jeremiah. Like Matt Maverick he is also a renowned big game hunter. We may refer to Krunare’s persona as Mr. Abe.”

I smiled, “Well, Mr. Abe. This is your first fictional Holodeck adventure?”

“Yes, Cap—Matt Maverick.”

“Call me Mr. Matt. Miss Lynn Mei over there does.”

Krunare said, “This is strange and bit uncomfortable – Mr. Matt.” He eyed me suspiciously.

Lant moved close to him and nibbled on his ear. “My warrior, relax and enjoy yourself. I promise you I’ll be good to you later.”

I tried real hard not to go wide-eyed and resisted the temptation to ask if could I watch. I figured it would have been a bad joke and was more afraid that Lant would say yes.

Krunare did relax and said, “Yes, My Sweet. I shall make you proud.”

Lant beamed brightly and kissed him on the ear.

Like me, he wore heavy cotton trousers and shirt. He had the same hat and oil-skinned duster. The only differences between the two of us were he had a steel Mekleth hanging from his side and his sidearm was a Colt Third Model Dragoon. I was not going to tell him to leave Mekleth and since Lant didn’t say anything I figured it was okay with T’Irs. Lant was dressed similarly to T’Irs; except her shirt was yellow and she had the same sidearm but had an artillery short sword on her left side.

We faced the door.

T’Irs said, “Computer, run program.”

The computer beeped and the doors opened. We were back in Jolly Ole England. The computer placed us in the middle of the street again. Krunare tensed up and placed his hand on the Mekleth.

I said, “Easy there Mr. Abe, these people are primitive. We’re supposed to protect them, not cut them down.”

He eased his hand off the large blade and visibly relaxed – tried to at least. T’Irs and Lant started for a nearby Pub, Krunare and I lagging behind gawking at the holographic details. A horse drawn carriage came up quick, startling Krunare. He turned and roared at the animal. It reared up and backed the carriage up a few feet. The driver yelled, “Now look there! Get out of the way you two.” The animal settled down. We stepped out of the way and the carriage moved on with the driver giving us a dirty look. Krunare growled in its wake. We eventually caught up to our significant others as they stepped into the Pub. Inside the lighting was low and the air thick with smoke. People were laughing and glasses clinking. I walked over to a dart game between two old men, while T’Irs and Krunare walked to the bar. Lant sat herself down at a table with several men. I had a sneaky suspicion that Lant went through this adventure before. I made a mental note to ask her later. Then I turned my attention back to the two old men throwing darts. There were several other older men standing around them. They all had tall glasses of beer in their hands.

“Yo’ crossed the oche! Ste’ bac’ man!”

“Aye, ya daf? I’m standin’ here as I am. My foo’ is behind the to’ line.”

An observer replied, “Ay, an’ he’s blin’ to.”

“Shudcha mouth. I’ll pla’ ye when I bea’ him.”

“Ha! Daf, blind and wrong.” He tossed the dart and it hit bull’s eye. “Ha! Two mor’ and you can move alon’.”

The group laughed.

 

I was thinking how my T’Irs would shame them all to silence when I heard a commotion. I moved over to the bar and saw Krunare reach over and grab the barkeep by the collar. Krunare yelled, “You either have the prune juice, or you don’t!”

“Let go, you bloody bastard. I’ll get the law on ya, I will.”

T’Irs walked up and said, “Krunare, there is a drink they have in this era that may appease your particular taste.”

He let the barkeep go. “And that drink is?”

T’Irs turned to the barkeep, “Two shots of sarsaparilla, please.”

The man straightened out his collar and mumbled, “Bloody beast. I ‘ould throttle ya about the ‘ead and shoulders, I ‘ould.” He reached under the bar and produced two shot glasses. Then he filled them with sarsaparilla.”

“Leave the bottle, please.” T’Irs tossed him a coin.

He bit it and smiled, “Sur’ thing, Missy.” He looked at Krunare. “Battler,” he said and moved on to another paying customer.

T’Irs picked up a glass, deadpanned, “Here’s mud in your eye,” and sucked the contents out. She thumped the glass hard on the counter. I thought, ‘Good God, where is she coming up with all this stuff?’

Krunare looked at her as if she had lost her mind. After a few seconds he smiled. A second later it turned into a hearty laugh. He picked up the shot glass and sucked it dry. His eyes went wide and he belched loudly. “Hmmm, yes, I think I could like this saspilla.” He poured T’Irs and himself another drink. I left them doing soda shooters and watched Lant arm-wrestle a local for a drink.

The man grunted out, “Missy, you’re out of – your – league if you thinkin’ you can best – me!”

She slammed his hand, hard, on the table.

His friends laughed loudly.

Lant enjoyed her drink and his. “Move little man,” she said, “your arm is too weak.”

He looked as if his own mother told him he was really a girl.

So, now I had nothing to do. Krunare and T’Irs were shooting drinks and Lant was emasculating the local male population. I stepped out in to the night and watched the Moon rise. It was full. A moment later I heard a police whistle. I went back in and said, “Hunters, it is time.”

A few seconds later we were out the door and running toward the whistle. After several hundred feet into the night we ran into a clump of peelers looking at a female body. St Claire stood up from the body and walked over to us. He was clearly not happy.

“Yes, it is a body,” he said.

I looked at him. “You’re an idiot, move.”

He frowned, but held his ground. “See here, this is police matter. I don’t appreciate your –“

“Shut up, please.” Him I didn’t like. I walked over to the body and saw that it was a wreck. Clothing was shredded and bloody. I peered closer and noticed two small holes in the victim’s neck. I turned to St. Claire and said, “It is Hunter business, now.”

He grumbled, “Not bloody likely” and stepped away.

Krunare, Lant, and T’Irs stepped up to the body. The remaining peelers back away and gave them space. T’Irs studied the wound.

“Upper incisors, one quarter inch long.” Then she took a step back and looked around. The ground was soft and there were footprints everywhere. “Our assailant came from that direction,” She pointed to a row of dull looking buildings.

Krunare looked in that direction, then at the ground. “Ah, you are right.” He stepped around the body and growled at the peelers. “If these so-called officers knew anything abut police work they would know you don’t step on evidence.”

T’Irs nodded.

“Okay, shall we then.” I said.

“Not yet, My Husband – I mean, Mr. Matt. There is something wrong with this scene.”

I looked at it. It looked to me to be a badly beaten up body. “Okay, I give up. What’s wrong with the scene?”

Lant stared intently at the body and the surrounding area. “Yes, I see it to.” She turned to Krunare, “Mr. Jeremiah, you see it, yes?”

Krunare blankly looked at Lant.

Lant smiled, “My darling mate, we are roleplaying, remember. I am Miss Elizabeth Jackson, but you call me Miss. Lizzie.”

A second ticked by then two. I have to give Lant credit. She waited patiently and when she saw the lights turn on in Krunare’s eyes she smiled widely.

Krunare said, “Ahh, I am Mr. Abraham Jeremiah? A silly Terran name, but –“, he rubbed his chin, “I get it now – Miss. Lizzie?”

Lant ran over and give Krunare a big kiss.

He beamed and kissed her back. He then looked at the scene. “Interesting, this is very strange? This program is to reproduce accurately?”

T’Irs and Lant nodded simultaneously.

He laughed, “What an amateur.”

Lant joined his laughter and T’Irs nodded.

I frowned and looked at the body. I still didn’t get it. I looked around it, nothing. The girl was dead, her clothes were ripped, the area had lots of footprints and she had two holes in her neck. I sighed out loud. “Okay, give. I’m not seeing it.” I think I looked exasperated, maybe I pouted.

T’Irs stepped over to me. “There is an absence of blood.”

I peered down at the body again. Her clothes were bloody, but not the body – or the ground. I laughed and felt like a box of rocks. Lant and Krunare joined in. T’Irs remained expressionless, but I bet she too saw my lights come on. Then I looked at the footprints. One set stood out from the rest. It looked like it was pressed deeper into the ground. “He carried the body?”

T’Irs answered, “Yes, he did Mr. Matt. You are correct.”

I was relieved. I figured that one out on my own. Then I realized that I would indeed make an excellent Dr. Watson.

St. Claire had been hovering around eavesdropping, “What’s this about carrying the body?”

I looked at him. “Yeah, this woman was murdered elsewhere. The killer carried her from somewhere in that direction.” I pointed to the row of buildings.

He looked in that direction and his experience showed that he was deep in thought. He slowly said, “Right, I suppose that makes sense, anyway, I sent for the coroner. He should be here soon. We can clean this area up and get to investigating.” He walked off with a dejected look on his face.

How odd, a strange fellow.

“Mr. Matt?”

I turned my attention back to T’Irs, “Yes, Miss Lynn.” I nearly giggled. This roleplaying did get easier the more you did it.

“The woman has been dead for more than twenty-four hours and the wounds were made after she was dead.”

“How’d you figure that one out?”

Lant stepped up and knelt next to the body. “The body is cold. That means she died over twelve hours ago.” She poked at an arm. “Rigor Mortis is nearly done. With the smell of Lactic acid –“, She inhaled lightly, “Smell it? Almost unnoticeable amidst the other odors but it is there. She probably struggled.”

Krunare nodded, “Yes, and this would bring rigor mortis sooner. She put up a valiant struggle. There is lots of bruising and her knuckles are scratched and several fingernails are missing.”

T’Irs nodded in agreement.

I was a box of rocks among this crowd. “Okay, over 24 hours dead. She struggled. What does that prove? They fought she lost. Our killer bit her someplace and then brought her here?”

“She wasn’t bitten,” T’Irs said.

We all looked at T’Irs, surprised.

Lant said, “Really?”

T’Irs said, “It is a – hunch. I have a theory but would like more data before I elucidate further.”

 

A few minutes later the coroner carriage appeared. A rumpled looking old man stepped down and surveyed the area. Two of his assistance milled about waiting for him to finish. He touched the woman’s skin and grunted. Then he picked up a small stick next to the woman and poked at her cheek, neck and arm. He grunted again. He sniffed the air and frowned, stood up, “St. Claire!”

St.Claire stepped away from the other officers, “Yes, Sir?”

The coroner said, “This is a copycat murder. This woman was killed at another location, my guess, maybe twenty-four hours. I’ll do an autopsy to see what the cause of death was.”

St. Claire said, “Sir, like all the others. The two holes in her neck.”

The coroner snapped out, “I’ll do the determining here you young pup. You stick to catching this monster.” He turned and stepped back up into his carriage. His two assistants wrapped the body in a white sheet, placed it in the back, climbed up and waited. A second later, the coroner grunt loudly and snapped the reigns. It pulled away slowly.

St. Claire was beet red and visibly upset. I was embarrassed for him, but just barely. He really bugged me for some reason. I heard him whisper, “Bloody fungus,” then he turned and shouted at one of the peelers. “You there, Taylor, take McCrane and check out the buildings over there”

Taylor said, “Yes, Sa, bu’ wha’ are we lookin’ ‘fo’?”

St. Claire shrugged, “Clues, man, clues.”

Taylor stood there for a moment, bewildered. He nodded and left with; I took to be, McCrane.

Moments later the officers disappeared.

 

We walked back to the pub in silence. T’Irs, Lant, and Krunare were all deep in thought. So far, I seemed to be tagging along so I decided I should “act” as if I were deep in thought. There was one thing that did bug me. The coroner said this was a copycat murder. Interesting, could it be that the Gaslight Hunter author decided to throw in a red herring? I was beginning to think that T’Irs had the game set to easy, instead of hard, when I realized they had figured out everything before the coroner gave his immediate findings. He was for my benefit. I laughed out loud.

T’Irs said, “Is everything alright, My Husband?”

I smiled, “Everything is fine. What’s our next move?”

She nodded, “We will allow the game to progress several hours, at which time we will visit the coroner. I have some questions I would like answered. It seems the computer is presenting us with more than one adventure.”

We entered the Pub. T’Irs and Krunare went back to shooting soda and Lant emasculated several more men.

 

Several game hours later we were in front of the coroner’s desk. He looked wore out and beat. “Young lady, how’d you guess the victim was murdered at a different location?”

T’Irs answered, “Elementary, Sir. The clues were out in the open.”

He smiled, “It would be nice if our blooming six foot Bobbies had an eye for evidence.’

T’Irs nodded, “And the other murders?”

The coroner said, “All strange and beyond medical reasoning.”

“Elucidate please.”

“Cause of death by Hypovolemic shock. Nearly every drop of blood drained from the victim’s body. Death was within minutes. Also, human saliva found in the wounds, two puncture marks, in the carotid artery.”

“Not the jugular vein?”

The coroner shook his head. “All twelve victims, all the same. This last one would make thirteen, but I stake my reputation it’s a copycat.”

Lant asked, “How is this one specifically different?”

He smiled, “The puncture marks were made in the jugular vein, I did not find any human saliva in the wounds, and she still had most of her blood.”

T’Irs nodded, “Our true perpetrator has an understanding of the Human cardiopulmonary circulatory system.”

I asked, “How so?”

“The carotid artery supplies oxygenated blood to the brain.” She stated.

I thought for a few seconds and let the idea form in my head. “Interesting, our murderer has a taste for oxygen rich blood. And if he feeds on the carotid artery the victim’s heart pumps faster and the lungs work harder – trying to get oxygen to the brain, which in turn feeds him more oxygen rich blood. Fascinating,” I said then I caught myself. I was sounding like T’Irs. “Sorry, I was just thinking out loud.”

Lant had a big smile and T’Irs nodded. Krunare just listened. I think he was wondering when the action was going to start.

T’Irs asked, “Any thing else we should know?”

The coroner grunt, “Sometimes the back was broken, usually at L1 and L2, sometimes T12.”

I said, “Wait a minute, they were paralyzed?”

He nodded, “Below the diaphragm.”

That was grisly. “And this last victim?”

“Strangled.”

I nodded and turned to T’Irs. “The Inspector?”

She nodded and stood up. She thanked the coroner and we all filed out.

“Good hunting, Hunters.”

 

A few minutes later we were talking to the Inspector. Krunare yawned but remained patient. T’Irs and Lant ran this adventure. We were just two guys waiting for the real fun.

“Inspector, may we have the locations of last twelve murders.”

“Of course,” he said and walked T’Irs and Lant over to a large map of London Proper.

Twelve colored push pins stuck out.

At the top of the map the River Thames snaked from one side to the other. Green lines sectioned off several segments of the map. The pushpins fanned out in different directions.

Lant said, “Miss Lynn, you see it? The pattern?”

T’Irs nodded, “Yes I do. He fans out from a centralized area.” She asked, “Inspector, what is this area?”

“Mostly the St. George the Martyr area.”

‘How fitting,’ I thought.

“And, where was the thirteenth victim found?” T’Irs asked.

“Way on the outskirts in the Bermondsey area. By Grange road and New road. Two miles from the nearest murder.”

I thought about that one. Even I could see the differences. “Inspector, may I have the name of the thirteenth victim and her address?”

He paused and looked at me for a few seconds. “Certainly, you have an idea? If you do I’d very much like to hear it. The last thing London proper needs is another killer.”

I replied, “I don’t have anything -- yet. Another question, do you recognize the victim?”

He nodded. “A lady of the evening. Mary Brightland was her name. She was brought in a few times but of course she would be released after a few days – the judge always took pity. My regret is that we didn’t keep her. She was released the day before.” Then he looked sad, “No matter the occupation, no one deserves to be murdered.”

I decided I liked the Inspector.

He scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to me.

I took it and looked up. T’Irs, Lant and Krunare were staring at me.

“What? I too can have theories.”

T’Irs gave me the look that said she’ll ask me later. Then she turned her attention back to the inspector. “Any abandoned buildings?”

He thought for a second. “All developed. We have several prominent pillars of the city living in that area. There is also the High School –“

“High School?” I interrupted. “Any children killed?”

“Thank our lucky stars, no. A few mothers, but mostly working ladies.”

I nodded and decided to shut up

T’Irs said, “Continue Inspector.”

“Right, several churches, a dozen small businesses.”

T’Irs thought for a moment. “I believe it is now prudent we investigate this area.”

We all nodded.

Minutes later we were outside and a familiar Taxi approached. It stopped in front of us.

“Maurice, good to see you.” I said.

T’Irs nodded, “I see that your wound as sufficiently healed enough for you to resume your livelihood.”

Maurice tipped his hat, “Gov’na, Mum. Thank you.”

T’Irs said, “These are associates.”

“Folks,”

We all climbed in.

Maurice asked, “Where to, Mum?”

“The St. George the Martyr area.”

“Very good – will you be needin’ my services for the rest of the day?”

“Yes, we will.” She handed him two coins.

“Thank you, Mum! It is always a pleasure to be of service.” He turned around and snapped the reigns.

We were off to find a murderer.

Maurice dropped us off in front of one of the local churches. He pulled the carriage to an open area and waited quietly for us to do whatever we had to do. T’Irs’ paid him well so he’d wait until hell and high water, I suppose. We stepped out into an area mainly surrounded by old stone walls and buildings. The church seemed ominous standing in the shredded rays from the Moon, which was covered in tears of thin wispy shrouds of clouds.

"Spooky," I said. No one paid me any attention.

T'Irs took out a piece of paper she had stuffed in her coat pocket. Before we left the Inspector's office she jotted down twelve names and the address near where each body had been found. The first spot was just to the side of the church when facing it. The surrounding vegetation around the spot seemed dead or dying. It was marvelous how the Author put that kind of detail in this adventure. Then I understood why I missed the first clue. I was expecting there to be no blood on the ground, but I should have remembered the level of detail from the werewolf adventure. The Author meant for this adventure to be and feel as real as possible. With or without werewolves, ghost and goblins.

"Mr. Matt," T'Irs said, "What do you make of these tracks?"

I looked down. There were a dozen paw prints concentrated in a small area. Several prints lead to and away from the dead vegetation. "A dog, maybe?" I joked.

She nodded.

What the significant was I had no idea, however, T'Irs was telling me something. I looked closer. And there it was. The tracks were pretty large for an Earth dog. They were the size of my foot. “A very large dog." Then I spotted the next clue. "This dog walked on two legs." My heart sank. "Werewolves."

"Correct."

Krunare cocked his head to one side and grinned. "I shall enjoy myself upon attacking this beast."

"There is more than one," T'Irs answered. "I see three distinct foot patterns."

Lant looked around and nodded. “This must be the last victim."

T'Irs nodded, "It is. Twelve hours before the thirteenth."

I stared at the old church. If these folks were alive what would they be thinking right now? Werewolves murdering women in front of holy ground. What kind of madness was that?

Suddenly Krunare sniffed the air. "I smell death. This Holodeck is good, but not that good. The smell is slightly off."

I sniffed the air. It smelled like dirt -- Wet dirt.

Then we heard a scream.

Krunare was the first to react. He was off running full speed with Lant close behind followed by T'Irs. I covered our rear and kept an eye on our immediate surrounding. Several seconds later Krunare rounded a corner of a tall stonewall. He yelled out, " bljeghbe'chugh vaj blHegh," and pulled his Mekleth out. Lant already had her short sword in her hands. There was a scream and I rounded the corner just as Krunare lopped out the head of a werewolf. Lant had her blade in the belly of one and rip the sword upward. It screamed and collapsed like a rag doll. A third one ran holding its arm. I fast drew my Model 1873 and yelled “Move!”

Krunare and Lant backed away while T’Irs tucked and rolled left. I squeezed off a round and then double tapped for good measure. A second later the thing yawped and went face down in the dirt. I knew it wasn’t dead, but I felt good anyway. I had bad memories from the last time I faced one of those things. I reloaded my gun while walking over to what was left of the two dead werewolves. Krunare was just coming down off an adrenaline rush. “Almost too easy, that was.”

Lant cooed, “My sweet, you were magnificent.”

Krunare smiled and replied, “As were you my darling wild tI'qa' vIghro'.

Lant giggled.

I stepped up and said, “As pheromonal as this fight was we still have more to do.

Lant and Krunare slowly tore their gaze from one another.

Krunare said, “The ground is too soft anyway.”

I wasn’t going to touch that one. I walked over to T’Irs. She had knelt next to an unconscious young woman. Apparently, the real, number thirteen, victim.

“Is she okay?” I asked.

T’Irs nodded and searched the woman’s face for something. “She seems to be fine. Breathing is shallow but otherwise sufficient to provide her an adequate supply of air.”

I nodded and saw Maurice bringing the carriage around.

He stopped, “Mum, do you require any assistance?”

T’Irs looked up. “Yes, please. Take this young lady to Police Headquarters, Scotland Yard, and inform the Inspector and duty sergeant of our present development.

He looked over and saw one gutted and another headless body on the ground.

He said, “Blimey. Pardon, Mum. Is tha’ what I thin’ it is?”

T’Irs shook her head. “I believe they are the hired hand. Individuals sent to retrieve young women.”

He said, “Blimey.”

Krunare had lifted the young woman off the ground and placed her inside the carriage.

T’Irs continued with, “Ask for the coroner please. We will need his expertise.”

Maurice nodded and trotted the carriage off.

 

I looked around and noted the third werewolf was gone. I sighed. “I had a feeling I should have put more slugs in that thing.”

Krunare and Lant looked over in that direction. Krunare sniffed the air and smiled. "It is bleeding badly. The trail is still fresh."

I looked over to the now changed werewolves. A lot of their hair was now on the ground. “I don’t think they are going anywhere.”

Everyone nodded and we followed the trail of blood, death and uncertainty into the cool dirt smelling air. If this wasn’t the start of a great horror Vid I don’t know what is.

 

***

 

About a mile later the blood trail stopped.

Krunare frowned. “Odd. The trail literally stops. I can’t see nor smell that vile beast.”

T’Irs walked up and looked around. We were in some type of residential area. One very large house in particular stood out. It was two stories tall and overrun with vegetation. The iron fence looked like it was in bad need of repair. We stepped to the entrance and walked through. The cobblestone path leading to the front door was dotted with tall weeds. Crossing the distance we walked up the stairs. I assumed everyone else had the same thought I did. I reached up to knock when Krunare kicked in the door.

He looked at me. “Why be civil in a holographic world?”

“Krunare, you’re supposed to be roleplaying a good guy. Someone who hunts down evil things. A door is not an evil thing.”

He thought for a moment and then smiled. “But Captain, I am roleplaying. The door was in my way to hunt down evil things.” He stepped through.

Lant shrugged and followed him in.

T’Irs was blanked face. She went in a second later.

I took up the rear again.

 

Inside, the place was dusty and smelled of old dirt. Spider webs seemed to be holding the inside of this place together as they filled every corner from ceiling to floor. I stepped around a dusty couch. Any other time I would have loved to study the décor and reproduction. The computer did a fantastic job and I kept telling myself this really wasn’t real life. A large spider moved across the span of a web. I repeated to myself, ‘It is only a holograph,’ but the detail was great. I had a thought to squish it but decided not too. I want to be known as a renowned hunter of beast, not spiders.

“Cap – Mr. Matt.”

Lant called from one of the rooms. It was the kitchen. From the looks of it, no one had eaten in this place for months, if not longer. Dust and more dust. There was dust on top of dust. I walked through the doorway and spotted the large open stove range pushed against one wall. Along a perpendicular wall hung different size pots and pans, against the opposite side hung what I would guess to be cooking equipment. On the far wall opposite the stove was a door. Lant stepped out and motioned me over. Past the threshold it turned dark quickly. I followed a set of stairs down to what I presumed to be the bottom of a basement. Once I reached the bottom I noticed T’Irs and Krunare looking grime, actually Krunare looked grime, T’Irs’ face was blanker than ever. Lant stood next to them then looked at me. I stepped up and said, “What?” Then I saw it. An open casket.

Krunare turned to face T’Irs. “This is the bed of a Vampire?”

T’Irs nodded. “In Terran Lore the Vampire was often depicted as slumbering within a coffin just as the Sun rose.”

“Okay,” I said, “How much longer until the Sun rises?”

T’Irs replied, “Twenty minutes ten seconds.”

“I’m thinking we interrupted his meal. And the werewolves? How do they fit in this?”

T’Irs said, “Werewolves were occasionally seen as being subservient to a dominate Vampire. Usually the relationship was forced and very rarely mutually satisfying.”

“Great,” I murmured. What was really nagging me was that thirteenth victim. Who or what committed that murder? If it wasn’t a werewolf, or a vampire than it had to be a person. I decided to check up on the address later when I realized that that the victim didn’t live far from here. I really wanted to find out, but there was this immediate problem. “T’Irs?”

“Yes, My Husband?”

“How do you kill a Vampire?”

Krunare huffed, “Why with a Mekleth at its throat and a swift cut.”

T’Irs nodded. “That is an unconventional way, as prescribed for in this time period, but highly effective.”

I nodded, “Okay, I think it’s time we let our Vampire sleep.” I took several steps back and felt a gush of wind hit me in the hindquarter. Dust stirred up and clouded the basement. Then I heard a howl and was knocked down. A werewolf leaped and charged Krunare. I had my credits on Krunare and within a few seconds I would have been able to cash in. As the beast raced passed me Lant struck her foot out. Oldest trip in the book. The thing stuttered step into Krunare drawn Mekleth. It roared and tried to back off the blade. Krunare helped him with the bottom of his boot against its face. I would have laughed if it this wasn’t supposed to be serious. The beast slipped off the blade and stumbled into Lant’s blade. She shoved it off the blade with the heel of her boot and the thing went forward – back onto Krunare’s blade. They did this several times when I couldn’t stand it any longer. “Kill the thing,” I yelled.

“My love, you may have the kill,” Krunare said.

Lant beamed, “My warrior, please take it. I would love for you to have the kill.”

“No, no, my sweet, please. I insist.”

“No, no, my love, please take it.”

I stepped forward with my machete out. “You two are enjoying this way too much.”

The werewolf was being played like a rubber ball. In a way, I felt sorry for the thing. Then I remembered something I once read. ‘Accessing sympathy ... … ... Access denied!’ I took off its head in one sideward sweep.

The body thumped hard in the dust.

Krunare straightened himself up. “We were having too much fun?”

I said, “You think?” Then I smiled. “This is supposed to be serious.”

Krunare and Lant got serious and nodded. “Yes, sir!”

Good grief! Two Klingons looking dejected is probably the most heart wrenching thing I’ve even seen. “All right, belay that last statement. We are to have fun.”

The two of them brightened up.

“T’Irs, how much longer?”

T’Irs smoothly faced me and stoically said, “My Husband, the Vampire is already here.”

 

I turned and saw a blur coming at me. Wind pushed by and slammed me into the wall. It did the same thing to Krunare and Lant – both looked stunned that something could do that to two Klingons. I pushed myself off the wall and tried to track the blur visually. It zipped in, out, and around us. Then it grabbed me by the neck and lifted. I saw everyone fast draw. I yelled, “Don’t shoot!” and closed my eyes. There is nothing more terrifying than hearing antiquated iron slugs ‘wheat’ passed your head -- except for the real thing, of course. All three hit dead center of the head. It snapped its neck back several times and tried to use me as a shield. I grabbed on to its thumb and twisted it back. It popped out of joint and the gripped relaxed. I dropped to the ground and gave it a kick to the groin. It swung at me with its other hand. I ducked and did a foot sweep – it was gone, up the stairs and out the door. Krunare was behind it. Lant and T’Irs were half way out the door when I jumped several stairs at a time trying to gain lost ground. I was out the kitchen when I heard the crash of furniture. I ran into the living room and saw Krunare toss what was left of the couch at the Vampire’s head. It took the blow casually and brushed the couch to one side. I fast drew and double tapped two slugs between its eyes. It shrugged the rounds off and bolted out the door. We gave chase.

Morning was approaching and I figured the thing had to be desperate. Dangerous and Desperate, two of the worst things to combine. Moments later the thing raced into an apartment building amidst screams, shouts, and the crash of glass and furniture. We followed it to the roof top and it started leaping from building to building. I don't think a Human could have followed - T'Irs and I barely could, but Krunare and Lant easily kept up. They leaped like frogs, giggling and laughing. How could I stay serious with those two around? I looked over to T'Irs. She was stoic and hard to read. I'd have to ask her later what she was thinking at that moment.

Then I saw in the immediate distance that Krunare caught up with the thing. It looked surprised and turned on him. Lant caught it in mid air with a kick to the throat. It grabbed its neck and rolled onto a roof top. T'Irs and I reached it as it stood up. It leaped up off the roof and I grabbed its ankle. I snatched my arm down hard and said, "Get over here!" The roof gave way and we both fell all the way through to the next floor.

The thing jumped up and hissed at me. "Silly mortal, I'll kill you for that."

He lunged at me and grabbed me by the throat again.

I said, "You’re forgetting something?"

He frowned.

I yelled, "The Sun you idiot!"

Sunlight burst through an open window and he howled in agony, as the rays appeared to clamp onto his face. He ran for the door. I snaked a foot out and caught his ankle with my toe. He went head first into door and splintered it into tens of pieces. He stood up facing me. "I will get my revenge." He turned and stepped – into Krunare's Mekleth.

I nodded, "Yeah, right."

Krunare smiled. “tlhInqan mah! Heqhlu’meH QaQ jajvam!” and the Mekleth ripped up and out splitting the Vampire in two. He roared and before the body was able to become horizontal Krunare sliced the head off effectively ending this fight.

The body hit the ground in pieces with some of its innards on us.

T’Irs and I just stood there. Amazed, well me showing it, but amazed. Lant and Krunare roared from bloodlust. A few seconds later they stopped. Krunare smiled and said, “Computer, please remove organic debris from us.”

The computer beeped and we were clean again.

Krunare turned to me. “Captain, this was an excellent adventure, I enjoyed the thrill of the hunt immensely and commend you on an excellent performance.” Then he turned to Lant and continued, “But Lant and I will continue this adventure in our quarters.”

Lant nearly gushed and purred. “My warrior, conquer and tame this wild tI'qa' vIghro'.”

He growled, “Computer, exit now! Hurry up I command you!”

The doors appeared and opened out of thin air. They nearly ran out.

T’Irs and I stood staring at the receding pair.

I looked at her and gave a half smile.

She walked over and placed her hand on my arm. “My Husband, when you are finished I will be waiting for you in our quarters.”

“T’Irs, how did you know I wanted to finish the second half of this adventure?”

She briefly touched my cheek and I sensed – no heard in my mind, “I know My Husband. I know.”

She said, “Good luck,” turned and walked out.

The doors closed and left me alone with what was left of the Vampire.

“Computer, place me outside Scotland Yard, afternoon.”

The computer flashed through several scenes and I was in front of Police Headquarters, Scotland Yard.

I stepped up through the doors thinking, ‘I can do this. Even Dr. Watson had his moments.’ Then I laughed.