HUMMMMMMMMMMMMWOOOOOOOOOOOOMB!
With a vibrational jolt like that who could sleep. All across the county the population was shaken awake. While many felt the smaller tremors of ethereal heartbeat it took much stronger drums to wake the dread. In each and every home, each camping trip into the wilds, each and every cemetery within a seVenteen mile radius of Belltower sat up and took notice. Almost as if their souls were saying time is of the presence. Vision blurring for those nearest the epicenter it was almost as if they were seeing double when in all reality it was a shift in their very spirits trying to escape their human confinement. Souls searching, but for what. Restless in the Baphomet... MOMent. If they only knew.
Bambi Maedeere felt a jolt of her own as her son Elijah Barker scurried from his bed and climbed into hers. It was a good thing her new man Buchannan had not spent the night, or they might have been shocked further by his unexpected appearance.
"Did you feel that woman?"
"Yes, child!" Her voice sounded different. "I am here to protect you boy. Go back to sleep." What should have been his mother's singing voice sounded old and less chipper. Elijah hugged his mother tightly but just knew something was off. Her song more a chant had him trembling.
"That's no lullaby." Eli tilted his gaze as if to be able to look at her. Blind as his inability to see, he had very unique senses that compensated. "Where did you learn to speak your native tongue?" African! A voodoo spell of protection monitored her bed and all within. "Can we just call dad?" Her grip over him tightening, he fell asleep in her arms as she rocked. Eyes black as the abyss Bambi was not herself. A hand-crafted doll that recently conceived troubles for his father Eric and a certain Kyra Whimsey rested on her nightstand. Falling sideways to lay slumped over, it almost appeared as if asleep as well. Her chant would continue throughout the night.
********
Across town on the outskirts of Belltower!
A rather small two-bedroom home with refurbished charm lay right next to an animal shelter. Here brother and sister, who just so happened to share the same bed, growled in their sleep before waking to the persistent howls of the dogs in the pound. As if sensing their fears the siblings sat up in bed and looked at one another. "What's causing that hum?" Ingrid Flynn looked at her chiseled brother not out of comfort or lust, but more in tune of shared visions. Although in bed naked they were not into incest, they simply kept each other close, a former pack method. No longer part of a larger Werewolf pack, they needed the comfort of the other's heat. Respect was instilled!
"Are you seeing what I'm seeing, Grid?" Ian stood up, his bedding revealing his boxer covered backside. While yes Ingrid looked at his magnificent physique, there was no intention of ever going beyond touch. Not once in all of their years had they engaged in intercourse, simple satisfactions yes. A hand here a tongue there. Nothing further! Being outcasts and in hiding they kept their relationships with others to a minimal. Recently, her brother reeked of Erin Parrish, he and the bombshell blonde fucking right downtown earlier in the day. While a hint of jealousy rose out of Ingrid his equally bombshell brunette sister, she knew she had no say over his judgment. Nor did he over her. A family understanding, they were all they had.
"The cemetery! I'm seeing flowers."
"The bouquet I made for Erin to take to some grave. I can almost read a headstone... "
"Rosalita Montoya." Her mind's eye obviously better than Ian's. "Why are we seeing this?" As if a vision turning in the cemetery they were taken on a journey through another set of distant eyes. "Who are we following, Ian?"
"Do we have a choice? Keep searching for further clues."
"Wait! It feels as if... " Ingrid got up parading with Ian through their house, she completely naked. Like Ingrid, Ian admired his sister's perfect physical attributes, an erection that never went down ever, not even concerned that he could take that if he so chose to. It was common practice to remain hard. Going to the front door Ingrid opened it and stepped out into the night. A snarl toward the kennels all dogs went silent. Peace in the heartbeats. Yes, Mistress! Simple as that! "I think we're following two sets of eyes."
"I just picked up on that myself. It's like my pair are lower to the ground. Whoa! My peeper looked down at the ground, I saw white paws... a dog."
"Hmm? Maybe it heard my snarl and bowed before me."
"Maybe! Hold on, I think this could be the poodle belonging to Erin. It's following a woman, but her body is different than Erin's, thicker hips, bigger breasts, a brunette."
"Mmm! Let's switch eyes." Ingrid sighed, as if that was their choice to make. "You're right! I think I might be seeing through the woman's eyes. I just looked at a poodle with... eye contact made between them." Both got their wish, Ingrid could see the body of Janice Stone through the dog's eyes, Ian the poodle for a certain through Jana's gaze. Staring at one another Ian and Ingrid shared their own eye contact. "Ian... your eyes. They glow blue, I see... sigils within."
"So are yours. I think we've made contact."
"Hello again." A telepathic response of Brimley Stone. "Ian Flynn if I'm not mistaken. Your sister Ingrid."
"Uh? Hey! Do I know you?"
"I was in my dog Cotton while you seduced my friend Erin on the sidewalk. Brimley Stone! Well, the former Brimley Stone, if you read the obituaries, you know that I died late last week. My ghost is bonded with my poodle. At the moment however, my daughter seems to inhabit Cotton, I have moved into my baby's body."
"Nice body." Ingrid smirked.
"Thanks! I like yours too."
"That was my daughter Janice."
"Hi, Janice. We should hook up. If Ian can, I can." She patted her brother's ass without apologizing. Not the first, far from the last. Yes, Ingrid was bi-sexual. More into women mind you, but helping her brother out on occasion was a family tradition. Hand job here, blowjob there, never ever... well, that had been established already. "That is if you ever get back into your body. If not... Hi, Brimley, nice body."
"What? Oh no, I'm not... Oh, God!" Brimley blushed for her daughter. "Now is not the time for flirting. Look for yourselves... the cemetery has gone to hell." Brimley and Cotton both turned their attention on the strange battle going on with blue ghosts housing the astral bodies of witches and warlocks.
"Are those... Baphomet's?" Ian winced! "ERIN!" He caught a glimpse of her as blue imbued ethereal bodies shifted about to offer him a look at she and Kyra. "We'll be right there." Ian bolted back into his house and put on a pair of jeans. Going without a shirt or shoes he headed for the outside world again.
"Wait for me!" Ingrid in a hurry snatched up only a t-shirt promoting the kennels she ran by the name CaNine Lives. Putting it on outside as she ran after her brother on bare feet, they hardly found the surface agony. Being werewolves, their bodies were tougher in tissue than most humans. Not transforming, the two simply raced across town with incredible speed. They knew the spell that Agnes Bloom had surrounded Belltower with to safeguard them from their former pack kept them shielded. Rogues who abandoned a kinship that believed in brutality and a life of eating human flesh, the siblings simply had no taste. Cut and dry the siblings ran off with an assist of a witch who sent them to Belltower and into the care of Agnes. A witch who no longer had a name in their minds to protect herself. Again, thanks to Agnes.
Most women might hold their breasts out of torture of being whipped about by gravity. Ingrid was beyond such thresholds, her 38C's bouncing insanely in her t-shirt so much that keeping the hemline down was impossible. Her tail, well her lower body was certainly streaking. Catching up to Ian to prove she was in his league physically, they zipped by his florist shop and through the side streets as equals. At least with jeans on Ian's dick wasn't beating him to death in its fabulous monstrosity.
"What are we getting into here Ian?"
"I don't care. Erin needs me. Us! We do whatever we can."
"Ms. Agnes can deter the minds of anyone who see us transform. That is not my worry Ian. Can werewolves battle Baphomet's? Are there sigils that prevent our attacking them? Even we come from dark arts."
