Paranormal. Research. Investigation. Eradication. Syndicate.



St. Anthony’s Church of the Holy Flame: Friday, Dec. 14, 2016 - 7:15 P.M.



The church was alive with the song of praise. The congregation stood with traditional hymn books parted in their hands, singing aloud to the guiding hum of a pipe organ. There were no electronic handheld libraries or fancy sound systems where the pastor could have easily downloaded the tune to play for him. St. Anthony’s Church was traditional because it believed that humanity has forsaken the old ways. Electronics were discouraged, but still children could be seen, sitting while their parents faithfully stood, button-mashing on their mini game systems.



Agents stood to blend in with other servants of the Holy Flame. There countless leads leading them to this creature. The modern Christ who was bringing about plenty of miracles. They were all dressed in shirts and ties, and some of the wiser, female operatives chose not to wear a skirt and panty-hoes but slacks in the case they needed to make a swift exit.

The music and worship ended.

Please, take your seats.

Hymn books were closed and deposited back into their holders before everyone sat, and once everyone was seated, the pastor became visible. He stood in white and red robes with his hands grasping the edges of a podium. His blond hair bore a soft glow and his blue eyes twinkled beneath the ceiling lamps. His whole being radiated with joy as he swept the room with his eyes, a long and excited smile stretched across his face.

If it hadn't been for the reports, the pastor would have probably never been suspected of being anything but. The man looked his part, and while he appeared friendly, he didn’t feel that way to those with the gifted senses. The good thing about there being too many people in the room was that the pastor couldn’t discern who exactly his enemy was, but he knew where they sat.

“May the Lord be with you!” the pastor spoke.

“And also with you!” the congregation returned.

“Let us pray!”

The church fell into silence, people bowing their heads as the pastor began to pray. While he did so, his eyes discreetly once again examined the room, searching for the unwelcomed guests. As the prayer concluded, the pastor clapped his hands together and greeted, “Good Evening!”

Good Evening!

“Well, I am glad to see that our guests from last week have returned and that we also have some new faces in here tonight. The-”

“Pastor Goodfellow!” a woman cried.

The pastor gazed down the aisle at a mother, holding the wrists of her video game-addicted children.

“Forgive me, pastor, but my children are new to this church, and I have heard of your healing hands. Please, save them from the technology that teaches them to rebel against their own mother and neglect their studies. I fear my babies may be expelled if this continues!” the mother exclaimed.

Pastor Goodfellow laughed softly and spread his arms, beckoning cheerfully with his hands. “I hadn’t expected to start the healing session so soon, but the Lord is never too early to work nor too late! Come, bring your children here.”

The mother towed her pouting sons down the aisle to the altar as the pastor stepped from behind the podium to stand before the two boys. He bent over to rest his hands upon his knees as he looked from the oldest to the youngest.

“And what are your names?” the pastor questioned.

The oldest son glanced briefly up at the pastor. His bottom lip was poked out and brows pinched in anger to have been torn away from his game for this. Without saying a word, he returned his eyes to the floor, and the pastor glanced to the youngest who crossed his arms before his chest and dismissively turned his head. The mother took a knee behind her sons, keeping her hands firmly upon their shoulders as she shook them in a light scold.

“The oldest is David, and the youngest Zack,” the mother told the pastor.

Pastor Goodfellow smiled, hardly affected by the boys’ rebellious natures. “Well, David; Zack; my name is Pastor Todd Goodfellow, and I’m here to steer your souls back onto the path of righteousness. If you’ll be so kind to hold still, and Mom, please join me in healing these boys.”

The boys’ mother raised her hands from their shoulders to rest her palms against the back of their heads. The pastor then laid his hands upon the boys’ crowns, raking his fingers back through their brown hair so that they were closest to their scalps. The pastor then began to pray and what looked like purple roots began branching down the sides of the boys’ skulls. The branches stretched past their temples to their cheekbones and the boy’s eyes became wide and distant. After a minute, the strange branches began to retract from beneath the boys’ flesh. The pastor lifted his hands and the wide-eyed children suddenly began smiling. Their mouths were stretched wide with shining rows of teeth as they chorused, “We feel great!”

They then turned to their mother and apologized, “We’re sorry Mama.”

They threw their arms about their mother as she embraced them warmly with tears rolling down her eyes. The congregation became noisy with applause and praise. It's a miracle!

The pastor held his hands out and then lowered them as he motioned for silence. He surveyed the Holy Flame communion and his sapphire orbs glinted with intrigue.

“It appears we have some new faces to not only welcome into our church, but into the house of God. I thank the Lord for every lamb that has found his or her way here. I’m sure that all of you have personal reasons for coming, but if you will, I would like to heal each of your souls with a prayer. Please, I ask that you not be shy and come forward,” said Pastor Goodfellow.

@redbaron1234@Witch Cat@Queentze@ShaggyDoo0

Richard glanced around to spot his colleagues and formulate a plan. They already have proof that he manipulated humans, but he could not figure out how he was doing it. He knew that he would have to get closer to inspect his process and maybe he could come up with a cure to give the people their will back. Since Richard is not the fighting type, he didn't want to be the first up there in case he went hostile as soon as one of them got close. Richard waited until one of his colleagues got up to approach and he followed close behind them, he would be the backup.

It was clear that there was some sort of mental effect going on with this Pastor Goodfellow, which was why he was here. Seeing that none of the other agents had volunteered to be first, it was clear that he would need to step up to keep up appearances. He stood up, awkwardly shuffling out into the walkway, muttering apologizes to those he passed. Buck casually made his way towards the altar, allowing anyone else who wanted to join him to do so. Passing the mother and her two boys, he could only wonder how many of the parishioners had been 'healed' by Goodfellow. After taking a moment to glance behind him to see who else had followed him, he offered his hand. "Buck. Pleased to meet you, Father."

Michael Viscardi

Micheal sat there and participated with the "rituals" of the followers of Christ. He had never been the religious type so this was all tedious for him. He looked around and could tell why the Syndicate had been called here, The was an unusual devotion, and when the mother sent the boys up to get "healed" Micheal focused in on the situation. The man could manipulate the mind, and those purple veins, Micheal had not ever seen anything like it. When Pastor Goodfellow asked for the new faces to come forward, Micheal looked around at his team mates to see what should be done and when Buck went up first Micheal followed soon after. "Hello Father, the names Micheal." He said with a simile as he shook his hand.

Okay, we've got confirmation he's a psychic. Nothing we didn't already suspect, but still. Seph was nervous as all hell. Sure, the sinister minister had no reason as of yet to suspect an illusion, but if he did, they'd have dozens of parishoners ready to rip them to shreds to deal with. She smiled, and shook the preacher's hand. "My name is Persephone, Father."

Azrael stood next to his colleagues, adorning one of his many alias Thomas Crawford, an older gentleman who was stern but kind. He wore a pair of brown dress shoes, khaki slacks, a white shirt with matching brown sweater vest and tie. Upon his head was a light brown fedora and in his hands a cane. He followed the usual routine that came with the church, though, a few parts when they had to kneel, he kept his face hidden so his smirk could come through easily. There were a few things they did wrong but he kept it to himself. Participation was key and blending in even more so. Much time and effort had been given in order to get the lead necessary for this possible takedown and he would not be the one to compromise it.

He watched in 'awe' as the children were healed, clapping along with the rest of the sheep in the church. His smile and slight jaw drop adding to the old man's amazement. Soon enough Pastor Todd Goodfellow noticed them and called them forward. He slowly got up, using the back of the pew in front of him as a railing of sorts to stand. He brought his cane to his right hand and made his way up with the rest of his comrades. He licked his dry lips and stepped forward. "Good evening Father. My name is Thomas, Thomas Crawford. To see what you did for those kids was, heh, was definitely a Godsend. Never thought in my 60 odd years of livin' I'd see anything like it." He nodded in his own silent approval.

An ocean of pews, all dotted with smiling heads, basked in the glory of the preacher. Heads up, shoulders forward, backs straight. All attentive and giving praise to the one and only true God. The men quite, not a one sleeping in their ironed shirts. And the women all prepped with beige skirts and hats and also caked in nude makeup. Everything was quiet and peaceful as the people read, no sang, their prayers. Each and everyone was identical, faces were different but when looking from afar you could never tell them apart. However, the new attendants always had a certain feel to them. Whether it be sweaty pits or the condescending looks on their faces, new attendees were easy to notice but hard to pinpoint.

Aradia expressed this perfectly. She a person always bitter towards religion, but she had mustered the patience to stay quiet about it for this mission, managing to blend in almost perfectly. Well, she at first did want to go with bright red lipstick and a short skirt, but that was a sure-fire way to get kicked out, so some sacrifices had to be made. And so she fished out some slacks and a white shirt, making sure to follow the actions of the two women beside her while shooting them smug looks in her mind.

Aradia calmed her mind, toying with her blonde curls as she scanned the room looking for her partners. She was relatively new to the team, only able to peek at her co-workers in their most monstrous forms, so searching for them now that they were all incognito was difficult. She thought she had spotted a few but was unsure, you never could tell and every time she drew her eyes away from the preacher she could feel heavy eyes pressing on her. Not that it was easy to stop her eyes from constantly blinking anyway. Everything was white, adorned with gold, high windows that streamed in golden light. It made her sick. “Overcompensating much?” she’d snapped in a snarky tone in her mind, if only she could say it out loud. Oh, the things she’d love to say- “I’m here to steer your souls back onto the path of righteousness,” Aradia snapped her head back up attentively again, the main event was happening.

---

Aradia won’t lie, she wanted to throw up during that. Keeping a straight and happy smile was hard when you saw a priest stab two children in the head with purple tentacles and brainwash them. Aradia couldn’t help but to reach for her knife, tucked safely and secretly into her pocket, she felt the blade’s hilt. It felt cold even with the layer of fabric that covered it, its smooth lines and dangerous edges sang with power. Her mind screamed at her, “Do it! Slit his throat! Stop him! End his life!” The permanent sneer on Aradia’s grew with every second she let that monster live, she tried hard to contain herself but the temptation to kill whatever monstrosity that was was great. She could feel its eldritch life force, she focused on it, almost able to see it. It’d be so easy to just drain him of all that life in an instant.

She looked around the room one more time. Searching for any out of place looking guy, maybe someone with a wart or a claw protruding from their scalp. She finally saw someone, Micheal something, was his name even Michael? It didn’t matter, all she knew that he was on the same side as her and that he was walking up. Taking the initiative, Aradia liked that.

As more and more people walked up, all agents like her too, Aradia let out a quiet sigh of relief, her teammates were here, time to join them.

”Father!” she practically jumped out of her seat and onto the walkway, her voice comically high pitched as she advanced upon the group. Curious eyes were on her now. ”Father please, my name is Aradia Coventry and I am in desperate need of your healing!” Aradia might’ve been a little too theatrical, but she was loving the attention. And she might as well distract everyone so she gets ample chance to slit someone’s throat. ”My poor cousin is a witch, and she has cursed me!” her voice and its slight southern accent boomed across the large halls.

This was going to be a fun mission.

Paranormal. Research. Investigation. Eradication. Syndicate.



St. Anthony’s Church of the Holy Flame: Friday, Dec. 14, 2016 - 7:15 P.M.



The Assistant Director was snug in the ears of every agent on the ground in the form of a communicator. They had tried using psychic link once upon a time, but it led to the violation of not just the agents’ rights but the rights of those who were non-human. With communicators, the operatives could be at ease knowing that their thoughts weren’t being monitored. Bill was not only in their ears, but he was also their eyes. He saw what they saw. The agents wore special contacts that gave him a visual of the situation, and if need be, they would be able to record any video surveillance as evidence.

So that’s’ how tha’ son ov’ a bitch is doin’ it! Bill exclaimed after being disturbed by what he had seen happen to the two boys. He couldn’t think off the top of his head of a creature that used purple tentacles to alter the brains of its prey. What they did no for certain was that Pastor Todd Goodfellow was no preacher and no human. Y’all can bet that whole congregation is drinkin’ the same Koolaid as those kids. We’re not apprehendin’ this one boys and girls. Spiderman @ShaggyDoo0, if ya want the body for yer chemistry set, then have at it. We’re dustin’ this weirdo!

Little did the agents know that they had all fallen easily into his trap. Pastor Goodfellow hadn’t expected them to reveal themselves so willingly. He had difficulty finding who the intruders were in the crowd. There were so many servants of the Lord…too many to individually keep track of. The pastor smiled at The Syndicate’s approach and took a step back from Persephone @shagranoz and Michael @Queentze (Do not auto-action the GM-NPC) when they attempted to shake his hand.

“What do we have here? The fabled Syndicate?” he said with a questioning tone, but he had them all figured out. After all, they were the only ones in the room not under his influence. “Look my children, the protectors of those who are unique.”

Instantly and simultaneously, every 100+ person in the church turned to face the aisle where The Syndicate agents stood. They were all smiling and baring their teeth with the most sickly-sweet grins. The pastor held out his hand and waved it over his servants.

“Look at them. Look at how happy they are. I take away their pain so that they only know joy. Humans suffer so much and for no reason. They create their own suffering but do not need to experience it. I created this church to learn more about them and to…improve them,” the pastor explained. “A church was the only thing I could think of to lure them to me willingly and without suspicion, but I guess the suspicion finally caught up to me, didn’t it? I suppose you all heard of my miracles. Is it not good? Tell your master that I have committed no evil. I have brought them peace.”

He’s taken over their minds. All y’all be careful. We need to go ‘bout this situation delicately. If he tries anythin’ funny, then just kill the smilin’ bastard.

“I can bring you all peace too. It would be the least I could do to repay you for protecting the non-humans and not ostracizing them. You won’t have to hide anymore in the world I intend to create. Everyone will be equal. Everyone will be happy. Come, one of you, who is first? Do not make me choose.”

Any ov' ya go drinkin’ the Koolaid, then yer fired…

@redbaron1234@Witch Cat@FallenTrinity

Well, this just went pear-shaped. Seph was tempted to take off her glamour charm, but decided against it. Better to leave the pastor in the dark as to just what she was capable of. She figured her best move was to stall the monster, try to distract him. "Peace is nice, but it has to be come by honestly. What you're doing isn't making peace, it's making slaves."

Into her radio, the gorgon muttered, "Anyone got an idea on how to break the control? I'm afraid that if they're still under his control when we kill him, they'll die too, and I don't want to have to clean up more corpses than absolutely necessary." Her hand strayed towards her pistol. She didn't like killing, but if Goodfellow made a move on her, he'd end up with a 9-millimeter surprise. Simple as that.

Agent Harrison held back a frustrated sigh. He had known it would a bad idea to reveal himself like that, to just stand up and walk to the front. He had felt it run down his spine like a shiver. He had written it off as nervousness, but now he couldn't help but think it was a premonition. What was done was done though, and now, as he stood before this vile man, this-- this... Now wasn't the time to let his emotions get the better of him, Harrison knew that. He had to think! But how could he with all these twisted and mutilated auras? Everything felt muddled and confused, twisted and distorted. Suddenly though, in his earpiece he heard the voice from one of his fellow agents cut through the fog:"Anyone got an idea on how to break the control? I'm afraid that if they're still under his control when we kill him, they'll die too, and I don't want to have to clean up more corpses than absolutely necessary."

She was right- albeit a bit insensitive. This "pastor" -if he could even be called that- was dangerous, but the extent of his powers were also unknown. What would happen to those under his control if that tie was broken? Would it somehow harm them? He had heard of such things happening with psychic links before, but he wasn't sure. And if the agents did attack him, then what? No doubt his "followers" would rise to defend him, innocent bystanders who would be punished for nothing more than a desire to believe in something greater than themselves. It was probably best not to make a bad situation worse. Sure, things looked pretty dire now, but there could still be an alternative to total chaos - and the pain any violence would bring Harrison. For the time being, Harrison decided it would be best to stall the pastor, to try to get a read on him and his powers.

He didn't move, he didn't even blink. If he needed to defend himself or his team members, he would, but until that moment, he would focus every ounce of his powers to get some sort of read on the pastor, to try to gather any form of information he could. There wasn't much else he could do now, and if the pastor did have any other tricks up his sleeve, it was Harrison's job to try to find it out.

"Anyone got an idea on how to break the control? I'm afraid that if they're still under his control when we kill him, they'll die too, and I don't want to have to clean up more corpses than absolutely necessary."

Buck drops his hand and sighs. He didn't feel comfortable responding to her since he was right in front of Goodfellow. "Whelp, kinda walked into that one, didn't we?", he thinks. He took a quick glance around him to see if any of the parishioners had made a move on them, but he couldn't see any of them close, apart from the Mother and Children. At least he had backup, but against so many people the odds weren't in their favor. Not to mention that he wasn't keen on harming innocent people.

It was time to stall, and maybe learn a little more about this guy. Turning back to the Pastor, he shrugged. "Well, that's the thing. I'm fine with where I am. Though I am impressed with the size of the congregation. Must be nice having so many eyes and ears.

Once floor up on the balcony overlooking the worship hall, Mithias the vampire stood, arms crossed behind him as he peered over the edge of a pair of reflective shades that hid his yellow eyes. His lips were pursed as he enjoyed his perch with a full view over everyone below. A charcoal grey suit with a swan broach made it seem as if he belonged here, or at least belonged somewhere important. He had already scouted out the entire building ahead of time, including its attic, basement, and fire escapes. There was no where this priest could go without Mithias already having placed cameras outside, as was part of a proper stakeout.

The problem with having lived so long was that everywhere reminded you of somewhere else. Alas, Mithias could no longer take pleasure in a Christian service. True, the ceremonial stuff was just as it was ages ago in any place in Europe, but Mithias knew too much. He had seen the world power fall, the crusades fail, the corruption inherent in the system overtake it time and again.

Was there even a god? Well, Mithias knew of one, and once he realized what was happening below the terrifying memories overtook him. Gabriel, having stood exactly where the pastor stood now, staring down his opponents with a sharklike grin. He was only a vampire, but one with surpurb mind control, and with it, he threw body after body in front of his attackers, laughing as they slaughtered one innocent after another, forcing them to climb a pile of bodies of their own making as they tried to get to him. It was futile of course, and Gabriel got away as he always did. Such a horror.

"... If he tries anythin’ funny, then just kill the smilin’ bastard." The voice came over his earpiece.

Mithias' eyebrow visibly twitched in his anger. Bill had no idea what was about to happen.

Pulling slowly back from the balcony ledge, Mithias spoke ever so softly into his communicator. "You must order our team to pull back, director. We have identified the suspect. Proper procedure is to bring in one of the affected and analyze them quietly. We cannot confront the suspect without endangering a hundred human lives right now." Mithias saw the congregation suddenly turn all smiling eyes toward the agents below. ...fuck. Mithias beheld the scene with his own eyes to give Bill a good view. All those people were going to be cannon fodder, and the agents who had revealed themselves could be at risk as well.

A few of the agents were green and trigger happy... The truth was that neither the Syndicate nor the beings they confronted and often executed were truly all good or all evil. Everything was a shade of grey in Mithias' age-enlightened eyes, and at this point, he felt the pastor deserved more of a chance to be reasoned with. He wouldn't voice his unfavored opinion directly, however, but he would do his best to limit casualties on both sides as much as possible.

Tensions were mounting. Mithias narrowed his eyes and whispered with some urgency, "Director?"

Michael Viscardi

"You must order our team to pull back, director. We have identified the suspect. Proper procedure is to bring in one of the affected and analyze them quietly. We cannot confront the suspect without endangering a hundred human lives right now."

Micheal agreed with the older vampire. After the Pastor announced that he knew who they where they should have immediately found a way out of the situation. But now they are stuck and had to work with what they had. Micheal could feel the congregation turn in sync and now he knew the extent of this mans power. He had his hook sin each and every member here and would not hesitate to send them all after the agents. That would end in blood shed, simply because they did not know how to stop his power or how to stop the people, a glamour might help but Micheal doubted it, the man had influence over this many people his cheep trick would do next to nothing.

When Buck spoke, Micheal commented soon after attempting to stretch the conversation while they waited for further orders. "I agree with my friend here Father, I like the state of mind I'm in currently." He said with an honest smile to their target.

Aradia dropped the act, she screamed every curse word she knew in her head. The non-magical kind of curse. A part of her was shocked that the cult leader found out who they were so suddenly, and another part of her was disappointed she couldn’t carry out her act. All that prep for this one moment wasted. However, Aradia didn’t let that bother her too much. She was an agent, not an actor.

Aradia readied herself for a fight, obviously, there was no negotiation about to go down. It was either drink the kool aid or be killed. ”Take the initiative… take the initiative, her mind sang to her, what was she waiting for? All they needed to do was take down the leader before the mind-controlled freaks attacked. They were all innocent, she was sure none of them willingly joined, they didn’t deserve to be killed in the battle that should’ve been between only the agents and the beast.

So, out of a sense of duty to the people, Aradia dug her hands into her pockets. The instant she let her fingers brush against the bewitched metal that hid within it, she felt a surge of energy go through her. Along with that surge of power came a feeling of confidence, Aradia now felt sure she could pull this off.

The others seemed preoccupied with waiting for orders or giving witty remarks. Aradia believed there was no time for that, every second they wasted standing around, the beast’s power grew.

She firmly gripped the silvery white blade. The blade felt unnaturally cool, but it didn’t harm Aradia as she held it in between her fingertips. She twisted her body back, sending full force into the blade. ”Hey you,” Aradia spat out to the leader without thinking much, a cocky grin spreading on her face. It was now or never, she had to do this before her bravery faltered. She aimed the blade as carefully as she could, trying to aim her shot between the leader’s eyes and hopefully away from any of her coworkers’ heads. ”Catch!” and with that she brought her body forward, flinging the blade towards her target, the blade soaring through the air as she heard a distinct ”thawp”.

For a moment. Aradia didn’t dare look at what she hit. She brushed locks of her golden hair out of her eyes as her gaze trailed from the floor and towards her blade. Had she done it? Defeated the evil by throwing a knife at it? Had she missed her target? Hit her friends? Did she hit anything?

She brought her head up and winced at the sight.

Paranormal. Research. Investigation. Eradication. Syndicate.



St. Anthony’s Church of the Holy Flame: Friday, Dec. 14, 2016 - 7:15 P.M.



Peace is nice, but it has to be come by honesty. What you’re doing isn’t making peace, it’s making slaves. @shagranoz

I agree with my friend here Father, I like the state of mind I’m in currently. @Queentze

“I haven’t done anything. The people believe in God and the miracles he performs through me,” the pastor explained as though it was that simple.

Meanwhile, Bill listened to the vampire, Mithias’s reasoning. Don’t preach to me ‘bout procedure. Don’t think yer all high and mighty ‘cuz yer old as shit. We ain’t got no authorization to take in any humans, and you ain’t gettin’ it without a report statin’ why. That’s not even yer lane. That’s Bugs’ @ShaggyDoo0 lane.

Bill went silent for a few seconds as he mused over the idea of the agents withdrawing. It wasn’t like the pastor was going to go anywhere and he didn’t want him to feel threatened enough to do so. Before Bill could make any decision, one of the agents made a move, and it was too fast for him to track.

The mother of the two boys David and Zack stepped into the path of a knife and caught it right between the eyes. Her head snapped back, her body tumbling back to thump heavily upon the wooden floor. Her eyes were still wide open, and a smile on her face as blood spilled in thin ruby streams about her eyes. Her children didn’t even acknowledge what had happened—no one in the congregation did. The pastor stared down at the dead woman with an indifferent expression before he glanced at the agents. Bill was lighting up everyone’s headphones.

Who the fuck did that? I didn’t see him do anythin’ fuckin’ crazy did you? SHIT!

Suddenly, the woman’s eyes began to grow larger and large until her eyelids rolled backwards like rubber film as her eyes appeared outside their sockets like eggs, staring up at the ceiling. Suddenly erupting from her sockets were long, red whip-like tentacles lashing at the air. They erupted from her nostrils, ears, and mouth, violently thrashing about and making a wet slap against the pews and floor they struck. The congregation was then upon the operatives, latching onto them as their faces transformed before their eyes, erupting with the same nasty tentacles that burst from the woman’s face. The tentacles threatened to get under the skin and spread like worms, seeking to travel to the brain. The church was full of inhuman shrieking as man, woman, and child sought to tear the agents limb from limb.

Pastor Goodfellow stepped back toward the podium, resting his hand upon its wooden surface as he said, “Hm…what a shame, and I was hoping that I would be able to stay a little longer.”

Amidst the madness, the church started to shake as though the entire building would come down. Soot fell from the ceiling, squares of stained glass started to fall from the windows and décor.

Jesus Christ at a football game! I want everyone to get the fuck out of there! That’s an order!

Mithias was fortunate where he stood for it didn’t look like any of the brood were capable of flying. They were attack his teammates and from where the pastor stood, he didn’t seem at all worried about any of the operatives reaching him. Perhaps he had another trick up his sleeve?

---

Brood: 105

Group Goals: Escape without making matters worse.

Extra Goals (Optional): Procure a cadaver for research.

@Witch Cat@Wraithblade6@redbaron1234@jumpadraw@FallenTrinity

Buck could barely track the knife as it sailed past him. He winced as the mother stepped in to take the knife for the pastor. When he saw the lack of reaction from her children, the amount of control the Pastor sunk in.

Who the fuck did that? I didn’t see him do anythin’ fuckin’ crazy did you? SHIT!

Buck was already looking for an exit. The shrieking from behind him made it clear that the front door was no longer a viable option even before he took a quick glance behind him. The mother made clear that the followers would be harder to put down than normal, and none of them were packing enough to defend against the group.

When the Assist. Director gave the order to get out, Buck had already drawn his revolver. He finally saw an exit. There was a side door that led to the church's graveyard. From there they would be closer to the street. "I see a way out. Through the graveyard, right side." He relied on his radio to relay the information as he edged his way over to the door, ready to shoot any parishioner that got too close.

Hope they've got a portal set up. Or at least a van. I don't want these bastards chasing me halfway across town. Seph was in full-on "hold the line" mode. She snapped off a shot from her pistol and plugged a thirty-something man between the eyes. Goodfellow had officially moved to number one on her shit list, but she couldn't get a clear line of sight on him. "Everyone go! I'm tail-end Charlie! And Aradia, if we don't die, I'm gonna kill you!" Granted, the witch probably had figured out that she'd blown it already, but sometimes, a gorgon just needed to vent her frustrations.

Michael Viscardi

Micheal watched as the knife went up into the air and cringed when it came back down into the mother's head. He had seen things like this before but this was just weird to him. As she began to change Micheal prepared himself for a fight whether it be from her or the Pastor himself. When he slipped on the last one the church-goers became inhuman all around and where about to attack them. Micheal heard Buck and followed his lead, he began to move towards their exit, but the patrons put up a fight.

An old woman had jumped on his back and started to claw at him trying to root the red veins, but he grabbed her by the neck and threw the lady into the crowd. Micheal side stepped a young man as he lunged and stepped on his neck with vampiric force and crushed it. He then turned towards the exit and continued to protect himself on the way out.

The Church.

Music:


Subtle, yet impossible for his acute senses to have missed, a low frequency rumble reverberated through the church building like a soft earthquake. Mithias' golden eyes followed the woman's body as it dropped as if in slow motion to the floor. An animalistic chill ran up his spine much like the rumbling shockwave that now ran up the walls, trembling the ornate glass windows, and the short hairs on the back of the vampire's neck bristled. The powers in use here were far greater than they had anticipated.

A perfect statue, judgemental in his fine suit perched high above, Mithias made no move to belie his understanding of the exigency of the situation. His contact lens provided the best feed of the shit-scene that was about to erupt. Red tentacled worms slathered on the floor from the now dead woman's smiling head. It was clear the entire gathering was equally possessed as they surrounded the several, unlucky agents below and simultaneously attacked them. All those people, they were all already dead. Amid the fear, amid the horror, Mithias was stricken with a sense of loss. Already, he mourned those people.

Pulling two handguns from holsters under his jacket, Mithias gave last rites to those below. "The Lamb of God takes away the sins of the world. Happy are those who are called to his supper." As the creatures jumped, he began firing, a rain of bullets, one by one, into the heads of the attackers below. First priority was to drop the attackers in immediate proximity to the fleeing agents. If a knife through the head could stop the woman, then a bullet could do the same to the rest of them. Mithias fired over and over, slowly walking alongside the railing of the second-floor level to get a better angle on those barring the exit that Buck had described out into the graveyard. Surely by now, he had made himself obvious to the enemy, the pastor in particular. Mithias spared one last bullet for the pastor behind the pulpit. Hopefully, that would drop him as well, and there wouldn't be any need for a chase later.

Mags empty, building rumbling, Mithias placed his hands on the railing and kicked himself up into a perfect handstand, before tipping over and landing gracefully on his feet in the middle of the congregation below. What ensued then was a slaughter, ala The Kingsman. (great with no sound imo)



Bodies flew. With vampiric speed and grace, Mithias could crush a skull with the blunt end of his empty pistol. Flagpolls and banner holders bearing standards of peace and love became spears and lances. Mithias lacked his swords, but anything was a weapon, candle holders, shards of wood from the splintered pews, the fire-escape axe. These were merely human. He killed and incapacitated the pastor's flock with broken bones and physical death. Their still-living blood spilled and flowed into the isle, fueling Mithias' dark desire until his eyes shifted to a red haze. He knew well enough to avoid the writhing parasites that seeped and slithered out of wounds, but he would slay all 105 of the brood, unless the building came crashing down to do it for him.

Mithias the vampire was himself, a monster, and his feed was of equally horrific, efficient bloodshed. What was almost as terrifying as a congregation of body-snatched fiends was Mithias' complete lack of hesitation as he rapidly murdered one after another of what looked like people. If the pastor wasn't running by now, he certainly should be.

Aradia was stunned silent as she watched the woman’s body crumple to the floor. She was not only scared by the hideous sight but also perplexed. The thousand-mile-unblinking-stares of the cult members, their bright unfitting smiles and the silence of the church gave the whole place an eerie chill that could never be described with words.

The still silence continued for much longer. Aradia's eyes shifting from the corpse to her teammates then back to the corpse and just going on like this for a while as if time itself was stuck in an infinite loop. Finally, something did happen, nothing good, though.

The red tentacles bursting from every opening of the corpse was enough to snap Aradia out of whatever trance she was in. All that guilt and sadness was washed away as she reached down to pull the knife from the monster's head. Her survival came first, so there was no time to mourn these lost souls.

She turned, flinging her weapons blindly at any freak who decided to attack. Her bewitched blade slicing through their flesh and bone like a knife through butter, but a really efficient butterknife wouldn't be enough to fight the incoming hordes. She grasped the blade tightly as she drove it through another head, feeling the power sing to her. Aradia somehow found time to focus, feeling the faint and flickering life force of all the monsters around her. She shut her eyes, diving towards protection behind her coworkers as she chanted lightly. Archaic languages flew off her lips in quick succession as the energy within her swirled and opened up, draining what little life these monstrosities had. Granted, her power was diminished seeing as she's concentrating on draining the life of an entire group not a single entity, but she hoped it'll buy them some time.

As her spell took effect, she started to slowly fumble towards escape, following one of her coworkers who had cleverly spotted a door leading out, she grabbed anyone lagging behind, tugging them closer. She wanted everyone out of here. Alive.