NOW LIVE! Today's the day you meet your new best friend. You don’t have to leave Wolfy behind... In 'Pets & Sidekicks' your companions level up with you!

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Message: <blockquote data-quote="talien" data-source="post: 4794921" data-attributes="member: 3285">Wild Hunt: Part 13 – Jesus WeepsGregor’s employer at Jesus Wept directed the agents to his squat.  It was a crumbling old warehouse in the former downtown of old New York, located south of Canal Street, between Center and Baxter Streets. Many walls had holes and other signs of decay. Along the outer walls were painted swastikas. Candlelight could be seen coming from the abandoned building. Hammer kicked in the door.  “Federal agents!”People scattered. A few froze.  They squatters included a few Goths, ravers, and ex-gang-type youth. A few teenage mothers with their babies hid in the adjoining rooms. Jim-Bean collared one of squatters, a tough looking bald guy with a tattoo on one side of his face.  “Not so fast.” The thug reached for a knife but Jim-Bean cocked his pistol and pointed it at his head.  “Don’t even think about it.”The thug dropped the knife.“I’m not in the mood, so I’m going to ask you this just once.  Where is Gregor?”“F%$K YOU!” The thug spat at Jim-Bean.Jim-Bean lowered his pistol from the thug’s forehead and fired at his calf.The thug fell to the ground. “Ahhh!” he shrieked. “Jesus!  You SHOT me!  What is your F#$KING problem man!”The other squatters fled the building, screaming into the night.“I told you,” said Jim-Bean calmly.  “Now that’s just a flesh wound, because I was feeling charitable.  But so help me God, if you don’t tell me what I want to know I will kill you right here and nobody will find you.  Do you understand me?” He pressed the pistol up against the thug’s forehead so hard that it left a red mark.“Jimmy,” said Hammer nervously, “calm down.”Jim-Bean was sweating, his pupils dilated. “I’m fine,” he snapped.  “Now ANSWER ME.”“All right, all right!”  The thug clutched his leg.  “Gregor hangs out with Xavier and Wolfen. They’re sicko bastards, killing stray cats and dogs and drinking their blood. They had stopped for the last couple of weeks. Gregor swore an oath that he would get revenge on all ‘No good raving scum!’”“That’s it?” Jim-Bean’s left eye twitched.  “That’s everything?  Don’t lie to me!”“That’s it, I swear!”  The thug started to weep. “I swear! We told to leave them and we haven’t seen ‘em since!  Please don’t kill me!”“I SHOULD kill you,” snarled Jim-Bean, shuddering.  “I should…I should…”Archive put one hand on Jim-Bean shoulder.  “Jimmy, you okay?”“I…”  Jim-Bean’s eyes rolled.  “I don’t…”Hammer gently pushed the pistol away from the thug’s forehead.  “Something’s wrong.”Archive helped Jim-Bean to his feet. He looked Jim-Bean in the eye, then put one hand to his wrist.  “His pulse is racing.  I think someone spiked his drink.  He’s having a bad trip.”“Great,” said Hammer.  “Let’s get Jimmy to a hospital before we attract more unwanted attention.”Jim-Bean waved them off as he stumbled out of the squat.  “I’ll be…be fine…just give me water…can piss out…the toxins.”“It doesn’t work that way,” said Archive.“It does…with me…” gasped Jim-Bean.</blockquote>

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