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Chapter 1.0: Twilight Showing

Wolfehome Apartments

It was a weird dream...

Not really classified as a nightmare, I think.

Nightmares scare the crap out of you. But when I dreamed of that strange black world filled with nothing but doors of different shapes and sizes... I was never afraid. My limbs were slowly fading... and I could feel myself drifting away into nothingness. I never felt anything... It was weird...

But then I'd come to this massive, circular door... Its iris-shaped panels would split open... and I would see myself lying in a plane of black sand... I looked a little different... A little furrier... a lot bigger too. There was also a massive, bloody hole in my chest. We both reached for each other and it was like I was watching a movie from alternating views...

I was reaching up into from where I lay on the sand...

... and I was reaching down from the portal in the world of darkness...

And, on cue, I'd wake.

My alarm blared and I snapped my eyes open. I groaned loudly as the light seared my retinas... and for another reason.

It was two o'clock in the morning...

... and there was a paper crane sitting on top of my alarm clock.

A goddamn paper crane.

"Urgh..."

I rolled over and tried to ignore it... but you know what?

I can't.

I spun back around and seized it in my paw, rapidly and angrily unfolding it.

A few words were written on it.

_ 4: 45 flight to Veranti_

_ Tickets are in the middle drawer of your dresser._

_ Bring something warm to wear._

There was also a set of car keys where the crane had sat.

I did some quick calculations...

It was two o'clock now...

It would take me about half an hour to pack... three hours to get to the airport...

Stupid artistically folded piece of paper.

"Yarf!" I exclaimed.

I leaped out of my bed, reached beneath my mattress and pulled out my bright, red trunk.

There was no time to really pack or say goodbye to my roommate, Zeke. No doubt he'd be pissed that I was gone again without a word but when you're a superhero, you're constantly on call.

That's right.

I, Jacob Reaper, am a superhero.

Well... That's not entirely accurate.

I don't go around flying in spandex with my underwear over my pants. I don't go around fighting supervillains and averting world-destroying disasters. In fact, I'm not really much of a hero. It's more accurate to say that I have 'superpowers'.

Or strange abilities anyway.

I quickly pulled open by dresser and threw an assortment of clothing over my shoulder into my trunk. Even without looking, I knew the clothes were gripped by some powerful force that folded them all neatly and arranged them perfectly beside one another. My toiletries also flew in from the bathroom adjacent to my room and slipped through my half-closed door to settle themselves into a small bathroom bag. The bag leapt into my trunk beside my clothing.

I had no idea how long I'd be spending in who-knows-where so I threw a few extra changes of clothes again. At the same time, a pen over by my desk scribbled a note on a piece of paper roughly reading 'Zeke, sorry. Inspiration struck. Rent is on the fridge.'

As all this occurred, I felt a tingle all over my body and a slight heat build up from deep within my muscles. I fought back a groan as my body expanded and the muscles that were quite firm but nothing too special bulked up and showed through my rather short, jet-black fur and the thick, patch of golden chestfur that sprouted on my chest and formed a heart shape that led into a treasure trail down to my groin.

Yes, I have golden-blonde hair and pubic fur.

Big surprise.

Most people thought I was some mutated fox instead of a wolf but I really didn't care.

It was one hell of a conversation starter.

I shut my dresser and picked up my laptop from my desk. No way was I trusting my abilities to hold onto it. Too much of my work was on it. I stuffed it into my green backpack as well as some fresh pieces of paper, a couple of pencils, pens, erasers, a sharpener and a portable video game console known as the 'X Drive Portable' as well as some of my favourite games. Just for good measure, I wedged a copy of my latest book, Red River between my laptop and blank books.

As a final addition to my packing, I reached beneath my pillow. I pulled out two identical handguns... well... almost identical. Both were jet-black and both had gold plates here and there. Only, one handgun had the word 'Turmoil' engraved in the side and the other had 'Tumult'.

I checked their magazines.

Nice and full.

Satisfied, I stuffed them between my shirts and shut my trunk.

Once I was all packed, I quickly dressed myself and regarded my reflection in the mirror.

You'd be hard pressed to think I was actually a wolf. Though I had the facial features for it, the fact that I had jet-black fur and golden hair as well as golden 'socks and gloves' made me look more like a mutant fox than anything else. I was fit but nothing overly bulky. 'Athletic' I think is the fitting term.

My figure was hidden by a baggy long-sleeved white shirt with the words 'Wildog Pax' blazing across my chest. I wore a black short-sleeved jacket with a big, 'X' drawn on the back in red and white. My black, cargo pants were just as baggy as my shirt and hid my strong legs. I did a lot of cardio and running at the gym. My legs were my proudest achievement. There was actually a leather harness strapped across by back that were supported on my broad shoulders. The hardness had two holsters for my guns crossing against my spine out of view thanks to my jacket. I had a combat knife strapped to my right shoulder as well but it was again hidden by my jacket.

I grabbed my trunk and swung my backpack over my shoulder.

I pulled open the middle drawer of my dresser and, sure enough, sitting on top of my private clothing - and my secret stash of men's fitness magazines with a summer issue of Todd's Secret Magazine fitted between it - was a plane ticket for the 4:45 flight to Veranti.

Yay...

Quietly, I snuck out of my room in the two bedroom apartment I shared with Zeke. Zeke and I had met in college and we were quite good friends after I posted some of my stories online. After I got a job as an editor and a full-time fantasy/fiction author, he and I moved in together. Of course, he didn't know that I moonlighted as a super-powered vigilante and used the experiences to as a basis for my books. He just quietly continued working the nightshift at farthest Buy 'N Save from our place.

Poor guy.

I wish he used his Degree in Games Design for something...

I reached the fridge and reached into my wallet, pulling out a good thousand Solars in cash. I placed it on the fridge with the note I had scribbled down and quietly snuck outside.

There, I hailed a cab and payed him double my normal fare if he could get me to the airport in half the time it normally took. The driver was a maniac behind the wheel and I was grateful I hadn't eaten anything.

I got there with thirty minutes to spare and was doubly grateful that there wasn't a line. It was still pretty early in the morning, after all. The lady at the counter greeted me pleasantly enough and told me I was cutting it close... again. She was always the one to greet me and serve me on my flights.

Her name was 'Air'.

Go figure.

I hurried to the gates and had my backpack scanned. I was grilled on the sharpener as it was apparently considered dangerous. They never noticed my combat knife. I have no idea why. Then, the officer saw the book in my backpack and took it out.

"Oh hey! You're a Reaper fan, eh?"

I struck a casual pose and offered a faint grin. "Yeah."

"I loved Concrete Storm. What page are you up to?"

I didn't reply as I watched him flick through the pages of my book. His eyes fell on the little picture of me on the inside cover above my biography... The next few seconds were predictable.

He'd look at me...

... then at the book...

... then at me again.

After that, he'd either squeal, say 'Oh my god' or be reduced to a gurgling mess.

It was the third one.

"Are you sure I can't keep my sharpener?" I asked, smiling delicately. "I mean, I kind of need it to keep my pencils sharp and to keep writing, you know." Just for emphasis, I picked up a pencil.

"Of course!" he exclaimed, his eyes shining. He looked like he was hyperventilating. A fainted security guard would probably delay my flight all the more.

"Did you want me to sign you a copy?" I asked.

"Yes please!"

I made out the copy to 'Arnold' and I bid the guy a good day.

Nice fellow, really.

At least he didn't try to take a snippet of my fur...

I made it with five minutes before boarding so I picked up a newspaper while I was waiting. The lady at the newsagents didn't recognise who I was so I was grateful. The gate was quite empty but that only meant that the few people that were there saw me. I felt the stares. Thus the newspaper. I brought it up in front of me, hiding as much of myself as I could.

Didn't work though.

"Ahem..."

I lowered my paper and smiled pleasantly at the woman standing there with a copy of The Opal Cruise and with her little girl standing next to her, Frosthart in her clutches.

"Excuse me..." the woman asked gently. "But could I have your autograph, please?"

I smiled at her and sat up. "Of course." I took the book from her and signed it. Then I turned to her daughter who looked like a walking cotton ball. I think she was Pomeranian like her mother. "You want me to sign that for you, honey?"

She nodded timidly and handed me the book, giving me a toothless grin. I wrote a brief message for her in my neatest handwriting and signed it before handing the book back to her. They both turned and hurried back to their father/husband who took the book from the woman and looked simply ecstatic. The Opal Cruise had its fair share of male muscle and hinted at a few guy-on-guy scenes. Nothing hardcore but it'd be a lie if I said that cruise hadn't seen quite a bit of action.

I had no doubt the father had some sort of muscle fetish.

Hey, I know what boys like.

My phone rang.

Colin Phillip's True Colours.

_'I see your true colours

And that's why I love you

So don't be afraid to let them show

Your true colours

True colours are beautiful,

Like a rainbow '_

I pulled out my flip-top phone and hid a groan. It was my editor-slash-publisher-slash-agent, Alexiel.

Pressed my phone to my ear. "Hey there, Alex!"

"Don't you 'hey there', me Jake! Where the hell are you!? You're supposed to be at a book signing today!"

Right... I forgot about that...

Funny thing about that... Alexiel was a really good friend of mine. He was one of the people that really helped me get off my feet and I trusted him very much. The black fox was quite protective of me. On these public events, he had entire security details around me and insisted I move into the mansion that was halfway done in the Shellington Highlands where my parents lived.

He'd probably have a heart attack if he ever found out that I was running around the country putting myself in danger constantly because of a paper crane with a cryptic message on it.

So I lied.

Something on the newspaper caught my eye.

"You remember Rob Lester, right?"

"The infinitely wise, multi-million author that recently made the transition from author to movie direction-slash-producer, had one of his books made into a movie and has made over thirty million_in the first release of_ Crimson Hearts just like I've_told you to do many times over?"_

I was glad I wasn't making a video call so Alex couldn't see me smirk. "You want me to make a movie of Crimson Hearts? I don't think I need to tell you the copyright infringements that would make not to mention Rob is a good friend of mine."

"You know what I meant."

I decided to ignore that. The conversation was in my control now. "Anyway, he's filming the sequel, Crimson Moon, in Veranti and he invited me over. I couldn't say 'no'."

Fire one.

"You're equally as successful as him, you know. Even without the movie deals. Those are still_sitting on my desk pending your decision, by the way."_

That's a miss.

"I've been thinking about it, Alex. Honestly, I have. In fact, the reason I agreed was so I could ask him questions about it. I've had my doubts but getting informed from a guy that's actually successfully made the transition from books to film is infinitely valuable."

The plane had started boarding and I tucked the newspaper under my arm, slung my backpack over my shoulder and scrambled in line.

"And you know Rob is always honest with me."

"Don't I know it..."

Fire two...

"I still wish you would've told me. Now I have to cancel... Can't you just go over there after_the book signing? I can book the flight for you now. Diamond Class?"_

Miss again...

Time for the big guns.

"I'm already boarding the plan, Alex."

The groan from the other end told me I had won.

"Fine... Just be careful, okay Jake?"

"I should probably tell you the same thing," I snickered, handing my ticket to the stewardess. She stared at me in awe.

Dang...

"Why?"

"You're going to have to tell my mom I'm going to hang around a stylish, effeminate, overacting director, a hunky, vampiric heartthrob that was recently dubbed 'sexier than the sexiest man on the world', a built, wild 'werewolf' and the girl stuck right in the middle."

Alexiel groaned again and I took that as my cue to hang up. Grinning, I tucked my phone away and regarded the stewardess. She was gawking at me... still...

"Excuse me!" someone shouted from down the line. "Can we -?"

He stopped... especially when he saw me.

Oh boy...

It was going to be a very long trip.

*****

Chapter 1.1: Setting the Scene

Airspace over Rillotia

There were three reasons why superheroes hide their identities behind masks.

The first was to protect themselves and their loved ones. If every superhero's true identity was revealed, their rivals would go straight for the people they cared about and hit them where that superhero hurts the most: their heart. Complete and utter invulnerability or kinetic shields were nothing against damages to the heart.

Secondly was the market value. Superheroes these days had costumes that were stylised and very catchy to the eye. While critics argued that it was like painting a big bullseye on your chest, to the corporations out there, it was marketing gold. All they had to do was make something the same colour or relatively the same shape as the hero's costume and suddenly they'll have flocks of fans buying their product even if it was overly priced and actually made of faecal matter.

And lastly... the collection agents. Superheroes cause a lot of collateral damage and for some reason, they always get stuck with the fines. Supervillains always have the insanity plea and that absolved them of actually paying anything. So, superheroes got stuck with the cost of rebuilding the things that they broke during their epic battle to save the world. It's a reason why supervillains target cities. Most superheroes these days were so conscious about breaking things that they purposefully held back thus giving the edge to the villains.

Me...?

Well, I'm one of those guys with superpowers that flew under the radar.

Most people didn't know I had super powers and those that did couldn't prove it... or rather weren't willing to.

But my 'mild manner alter ego' was probably just as 'super'.

World famous author?

Yes please.

Especially when you get bumped up to First Class by just standing around, taking a few photos and signing a few books. I delayed the flight by about ten minutes but no one really cared. In retrospect, I probably should have arranged for private transport but really, I'm an author not a movie star. I shouldn't stop planes.

But I still did.

I think it's my eyes.

Sapphire-blue.

A lot of girls always commented how they got lost in my eyes.

Sucks to be them.

Still a pity I didn't get promoted to Diamond or Gold Class but First was still pretty good. I didn't steal anyone seat. First and Business Class seats were now one of those 'meh-worthy' seats. The unattended 'middle child' of the flight classes. Economy was for the people who could only afford the bare minimum and for those who wanted true luxury it was Diamond or Gold. First and Business... well... They were nowhere near Diamond or Gold and not that much better than Economy.

So why bother spending so much if you can end up using that money for your destination or not going all the way with the other much higher classes.

In fact, I was pretty much alone in the First Class cabin.

At least I had a table where I could set up my laptop.

Once I flicked it on, I wasn't at all that surprised to find a little paper crane icon sitting on my desktop. The extension was '.unkwn'. With a sigh, I double clicked it and a document opened up for me. Reviews about Robert Lester's movie adaptation of his best-selling fantasy romance novel, Crimson Hearts, the first in the entire Crimson series. Naturally, being Rob's friend I had read the entire series. I wasn't at all surprised when he wrote the books. Rob always had a fantasy about vampires and werewolves when we were in college.

Role-playing with him was fun.

Anyway, the Crimson series was Rob's baby. His best work and one that he will forever be known for. He tried delving into other genres but... well... They weren't as successful. The Crimson Series had four books in it. The first three were actually just the same events but from the perspective of the three different leads with a few plot progressions; the vampire, the normal and the werewolf. The last book was the conclusion to their love triangle.

Teenage girls loved it and they loved the movie adaptation. I was invited to the midnight screening of it when it first came out but I had to refuse. I was halfway across the world in the middle of the ocean, floating on the debris of an alien spacecraft with little green, furless men still trying to probe me even after I destroyed their mothership.

No joke.

I was actually surprised I got reception all that way out there...

It was the basis of my book Beyond Horizon.

Wish I could've gone though.

Chad West as Shane 'White' Fang was simply gorgeous.

It occurred to me that I might actually meet him on see him in person. That excited me in more ways than one.

With my interest piqued, I scrolled down the reviews and frowned when I saw quite a few negative reviews. Rob wasn't out to the world. Many people suspected that he was gay and some openly accused him of it but he curtly ignored them and continued writing anyway. He feared that if he came out to the world, he'd lose credibility and people wouldn't read his books.

Can't say I blame him.

I'm gay and I'm out of the closet.

Problem is, no one really suspected me and those that did quickly dismissed it. I won't lie if people ask me outright but no one ever asks me but I'm not about to go around announcing it to the world either.

I guess I'm... 'half-out' of the closet?

The reviews were rather... scathing. They called The Crimson Series a 'gay man's attempt at sexual fantasy' or 'more meat and no bone'.

Ouch...

I opted to delete the reviews once I was done with them.

Interestingly, I noted that the last article was about where Rob was filming. Veranti had a little town known as 'Crosstown' named after the massive castle 'Cross Keep'. That was where the Crimson Series took place. Before, Rob just used special effects and a studio to film everything - special effects these days have progressed a lot - but with a bigger budget, he could now film onsite.

No doubt that would provide a lot if income for Crosstown.

Funny thing though...

Crosstown was located many miles from Veranti Airport... It was basically in the middle of nowhere...

Either I forked over thousands of Solars in cab fees or I go back to Alex with my tail tucked between my legs, admit that I had lied and beg him to let me go to Veranti. Of course, after my mother was done with him, he probably would have me signing books and writing my 'next bestseller' at gunpoint...

"Excuse me..."

I glanced up. There was a rather stunning goat with shining, brown eyes standing in the isle. She had this curious look on her face. Long, wavy, brown hair that matched her brownish fur hung well past her shoulders.

"Yes?" I asked pleasantly. "Can I help you?"

"Is this seat taken?" she asked, pointing at the seat beside me.

I had set the newspaper there. "No, sorry." I quickly picked up the paper and recalled that there was an article about Crimson Moon on it. The woman sat down beside me and settled in for the rest of our two hour ride. I flipped to the page about Rob's movie.

Clearly, the author wasn't an avid supporter of Rob's world. There was quite a bit of slander, commenting on how a good movie isn't made by an extensive budget. Crimson Hearts was apparently terrible and even if there was more money to be thrown around, that wouldn't compensate for poor acting and poor directing skills. Most of it was targeted at Rob.

Poor guy.

"Oh! You're a Crimson?"

I folded the paper and offered the goat a smile. She looked awfully familiar. "No. Not as such. I'm friends with one of the guys that works on the movie."

"Really?" She inclined her head to the side with a smile. "Who?"

Okay... I could just see it now... Two hours of non-stop Crimson chatter... Alright, I can keep up the conversation and I could be very polite especially to a lady but to be honest, when you know the writer all topics of conversation just gets repetitive. Everyone else just sounds like a fan.

But... I opened the can of worms... Might as well go fishing.

"Not sure if you know him," I answered with a shrug.

"Try me."

She was persistent, I'll give her that.

"Tell you what," I answered with a smirk. "Why don't you tell me who you know and I'll say if that's the same person?"

One of her meticulously maintained eyebrows rose. "Alright... Well... Let's see... I know Chad West..."

Right... She likely omitted 'of' there.

"And I know Dennis Carter."

Dennis Carter was the vampire. The series starts off with his character, Xavier Keller, going out to get blood from the hospital for his family. The Keller family lived amongst everyone in the dreary world of Crosstown. Like the other 'vampires' that other authors wrote about, Rob's vampires suffered adverse effects when in direct sunlight. They didn't burn. They...

I mentally sighed.

'Sparkled'.

Rob always did have a fascination with glitter...

These vampires were also 'vegetarian' in a way. Instead of going for the 'fresh blood', they just bought blood packs from the hospital.

To me, while Carter did have a rather... refined, boyish charm to him but... the character of Xavier Keller was just not that appealing. Sure the idea of a guy lusting for your blood and fighting against his instincts to not feast upon your flesh was cool and quite romantic... But let's face it, most modern inhabitants would rather have wild, crazy, hot werewolf sex than constrained, dignified vampire sex.

And even I was mortal

Carter was probably nothing like Xavier but as a movie actor, Carter ran the risk of being called and branded Xavier for the rest of his life.

I just couldn't help typifying the guy into that role.

A little sad, really...

"Nope, not him," I answered.

She rolled her eyes. "Well, Kristine Stanton and me are quite close."

Then it hit me like a ten tonne sack of bricks.

"Yarf!" I cried, leaping back. "You're -"

The actress who played Andrea Flora in the Crimson Series jumped up and clamped her hands over my muzzle!

I'll admit, I don't get starstruck often. After Alexiel kept pestering me to make a movie out of some of my books, I had been approached by quite a few movie stars so that they could...

... oh wait...

Slowly, she pulled away and placed a finger against her lips, indicating that I had to be quiet. The last thing we both needed was a media frenzy in mid-flight. Not going to argue with that. I could just imagine everyone clambering around us and asking for our autographs. Then, just as our wrists would get tired, a guy in a pilot's outfit with same voice as the pilot would beg us to sign his ass. It'd be a nice ass too. He'd also make some quip about me 'sending my plane into his hanger' and I'd oblige. But before we could do anything, Kristine would point out if the pilot was here... Who was flying the plane?

Then we'd all go into a tailspin, crash into the middle of an ocean, survive on a deserted island where I'd be forced to mate with women to keep the population going. We'd form a utopia that would instantly be shattered when the rescue party finally came back after eighty years and I would be left alone, an old, withered man alone in my utopia...

... huh... That'd actually be a nice premise for a book...

I think I'll call it 'Crash'

"And you're J.S. Reaper, right?" she asked softly.

Right, forgot to mention.

My middle name is 'Samuel'.

Jacob Samuel Reaper and people knew me as 'J.S. Reaper'.

Apparently, when I was born, my parents had a bet that I be called 'Samantha' if I was a girl - and for a second there, they actually thought I would be. But when I came out a dude, the called me Jacob but my mom liked the nickname 'Sam' so she gave me the middle name 'Samuel'.

"That's me," I answered.

"I just wanted to say thank you," she said with a smile. "If it weren't for you, I would never have been able to sneak onto this plane."

I thought I was the only celebrity that needed to sneak onto planes...

"Don't you have like own... a private jet or something? Or shouldn't you be in Diamond Class?"

Kristine folded her arms and gave me a weird expectant look like she was accusing me of exactly the same thing. It wasn't the same thing. She was a famous actress with a net worth of more than ten million Solars. I was a bestselling author who still lived in a share-house. We were in no way the same...

... though, I oddly got more attention than her...

Go figure.

"Don't give me that look," I growled, crossing my arms and turning away. "I like First Class. I like keeping it real."

"So says the wolf that writes about aliens, magical symbols that alter reality, government conspiracies involving mutants, ancient hidden treasures, ancient lost civilisations and alternate universes."

Yeah... About that...

"Touché..."

She sat back and smiled warmly at me. "Anyway, thanks again for the distraction. The plane staff are accommodating to your privacy but everyone else... Urgh..." She rolled her eyes. "So why are you heading off the Veranti?"

"Same reason you are actually," I answered. "I'm flying over to see Robert Lester."

"You two know each other?"

"Yeah. College."

"No kidding! I never thought you were more than thirty!"

Kaboom...

Trucks just rammed into my head, piling on top of one another in a thirty-vehicle pileup. There was carnage everywhere. The burning corpses were all laughing at me. The little frying children formed a circle around the devastation singing, 'Jakie-Jakie, Look who's Thirty-Thirty. Jakie-Jakie now is an oldie-oldie!' Acrid, black smoke swirled around above the horrible scene and shaped itself into the number 'thirty'.

For some odd reason, there was a caption in the image.

'This daydream is brought to you by the Number 69!'

I shook the thought out of my head and growled at her. "I'm only twenty-one, thank you very much. And Rob was my tutor back when I was taking Professional Writing in college."

"Oh!" She blushed and giggled. "Sorry... I had no idea. The way you two write is so different. His is so romantic and delicate. Yours is so fast-paced, action-packed and full of shocks."

I regarded her curiously, my anger instantly ebbing. "You read my books?"

Her smile was genuine and warming. A stark from her character which was an emotional, semi-depressed, lonely woman. Guess she was a good actor after all.

"Of course! Is it true you're going to turn Earth Run into a movie?"

All my respect for her went down like the aeroplane in my imagination.

"My decision is pending," I answered turning my head away from her. I found interest in the scene outside my window.

We were rapidly approaching Veranti. Lush, green forests rolled over tall, towering mountains. A few were capped with snow but most were simply green. The cloud cover shielded most of the vast verdant fields from me but I could tell it was one of the many untouched green forests in Rillotia. It really was quite beautiful.

"Did I say something wrong?"

It was hard to explain my hesitation to turn my books into movies...

Each story I wrote was based on the events that happened in my life... So yes, I have encountered aliens, magical symbols that alter reality, government conspiracies involving mutants, ancient hidden treasures, ancient lost civilisations and alternate universes. When you live in a world populated by superheroes, you'd think people wouldn't be so surprised when something like that happens... But every time, they always look like they've been gobsmacked by a big, wet, live tuna. To add insult to injury, the tuna would kiss them too.

All of the events, however, had one thing in common.

The Seals, those 'magical symbols that alter reality'.

I have no idea where they come from but I do know that absolutely every time something weird happens to me, two things always occur. First, I get a missive in the form of a paper crane. Second, a Seal is involved.

So... I had no doubt that a Seal was going to be around to do something weird.

I just don't know what that thing is.

The characters in my stories are based off real people too. Sure, I jazzed them up a bit and the main character is a bit of a 'Gary Stu' of myself - since I tend to make a lot of mistakes when dealing with the Seals - but they're all, essentially real. That said, I always felt like I'd be breaching the privacy of the people I wrote about if I made my tales into a movie. Sure they let me publish what happened into books but a movie was something else entirely...

That and a lot can be lost in the folds of pages.

Movies can be pretty straight forward.

If whoever was making these Seals and causing havoc all over Mortaelis saw the movies... Well, I'd be the target.

"No," I lied. "I'm just thinking about Rob... Been a while since I've seen him." Then a thought occurred to me and I turned to her curiously. "Hey... Aren't you supposed to already be in Veranti? I mean filming has already begun."

Kristine chuckled. "You haven't read Crimson Moon, have you?"

That hurt.

"I have so!"

Then I realised what she meant.

By the end of Crimson Hearts, the main characters Andrea and Xavier decide to get married and invited Shane to be the best man. Shane runs off and decides he wants to be a wolf for all time and forget his 'mortal' ties so to speak. In Crimson Moon, events take on Shane's perspective and follow him from before he turns into a werewolf all through the events of Crimson Hearts to the point when he runs away and then overhears a vampire clan planning to crash the wedding and kill Xavier for marrying a 'Blood Bag'. Shane is captured at that point and the book ends on that cliffhanger.

"Oh... So you're not needed for the start of the movie because it's mostly about Shane, huh?"

Kristine nodded. "Yep. Now Andrea comes in and I'm needed."

With still an hour and a half until we landed, I decided it'd be nice to chat to Andrea. Besides, another bestseller was around the corner and I needed a background story for the female lead.

Andrea turned out to be quite level headed. She was a child star but branched out a lot, starring in several Art House movies here and there with quite a few mainstream movies as well. Her studies took her through college and she had a Degree in Classic Literature while currently studying up on Theatre and Film. Obviously, she was hoping to be a director once her time on the silver screen was over.

Wise choice, in my opinion.

When we landed, we both opted to wait until everyone else was off the plane so we didn't cause a riot. Seriously, two celebrities - well, one celebrity and one author - being seen together was serious news. We collected our bags and went through customs. They scanned my bag and despite the fact I had two handguns inside my red trunk, they didn't notice it. The metal detectors didn't pick up my combat knife either.

Always the same thing at every trip.

Not that I'm complaining.

Not surprisingly, it was raining at Veranti Airport.

I pulled out the car keys I had received earlier this morning and tossed them into the air. "So, you have a ride there?"

"I'm getting picked up," she answered.

It was the gentlemanly thing to do to wait with her until such a time that her ride came.

Thirty minutes.

Thirty minutes in the rain and still nothing.

"You'd think they'd treat their lead female role with a little more punctuality than this," I said, shaking my tail slightly and flicking water behind me.

"The rain must be slowing them down..." she murmured, shivering beneath her coat.

"Well, we're heading to the same place anyway. Why don't I give you a lift?"

Thankfully, she had enough of the rain just like I had so she agreed and followed me to the car park. Okay, I had no idea what car the keys belonged to so I distracted her with idle chatter while I randomly pressed the key's remote, hoping that I'd find the car somewhere.

I didn't have to look long.

"Oh sweet," I laughed.

"That's your car?" Kristine asked.

"God, I hope so."

"What?"

"Nothing."

I walked up to sleek, black sports car. It was low, demonic and screamed 'speed'. The paint was perfectly polished and there silver markings on the side shaped like running wolves. It had no manufacturer's logo so it was custom made. The interior was roomy despite its low clearance and the seats were leather. GPS, cruise control and basically all the trimmings.

I hit the remote one more time and - thankfully - the car doors unlocked.

Next time I see a paper crane, I swear I'm going to worship it as my god.

I pulled open the door and jumped into the driver's seat, grinning like an idiot. I keyed in the ignition and - to my surprise - it didn't make a sound. I felt it rumble but no sound.

"Awesome."

Kristine jumped into the passenger's seat and blinked in surprise. "A Tritoscositite engine? Wow... I didn't think authors got enough money to afford this sort of luxury."

"Well, I'm not just an author, you know," I said, shutting my door and buckling up. "I do some things on the side."

"Like what? Are you part of the mafia or something?" she joked.

Funny thing is... I was.

The velvet mafia.

"Nah. I'm an editor too. Do some stuff for the paper every now and then. Besides, my agent runs my like a dog. All those book signings and appearances pour in the cash." I drove the car out of the car park, absolutely loving its smooth handling and its silent run.

"I'll bet... Wow... How much are you worth?"

I flashed her a grin. "Enough that if and when I pass away, about fifty mysterious 'never-before-seen' relatives will miraculously appear and claim a part of my assets."

"Just fifty?"

"Fifty that'll make it. They're the ones that would have survived the horrendous orgy of killing and slaughtering."

Kristine gave me this lopsided smile. "What? No raping and pillaging?"

"That comes after the assets have been divided."

We shared a laugh and as I drove, we pondered colourful ways my mysterious relatives would clamour against one another in order to claim my fortune after I was long dead. We got to the point where 'Aunt Muriel' claimed Rillotia and 'Cousin Freddy' claimed Welensha with the two pitching war against one another as they argued for the rights to the unnamed manuscript that would be my last great, epic story. Too bad it ended there since we arrived at Crosstown. I was about to tell her that Aunt Muriel would attack Cousin Freddy with darts laced with Mad Cow Disease.

Oh well...

Crosstown was... quaint. The town itself was quite small. Just a few buildings here and there. The total population read about 3000. Quite small but big enough that inbreeding wasn't a possibility... I think. Most of the houses were built of either wood or brick and they looked all fairly old. Some even had tin roofs. None had a modern flair to them like most of the homes in Shellington. The central congregation of buildings was the town itself and it didn't look too busy.

I noted that the big, red town hall - easily the biggest building in town save for Cross Keep looming in the distance - had a large, bronze statue in front of it. I'm not sure what the merit of having a bronze statue in the middle of a stormy location was but I was more fascinated about the statue. It depicted a richly dressed wolf holding up a bowl in one hand and a sword in the other.

From what I remember of Rob's book, the statue depicted Vincent Cross. One of the two brothers of Cross Keep. Legend has it that when the lord of Cross Keep, Vance, died he didn't name an heir. So the two brothers, Vincent and Vane fought for the throne. Vane was the eldest and kicked out his brother from the castle, declaring him an outlaw. But Vincent was loved by the people outside the keep so he sought refuge amongst the citizens and built an army.

As I parked the car beside the large motel that the movie crews were staying in, I recalled how Vincent waged war on Vane but where he had numbers, Vane had superior training and equipment on his side. More people died and no ground was made. But the bloodlust and craving for power that the two brothers had drove both sides to bleed almost to death.

Both brothers apparently beseeched the gods for aid. An angel greeted them. He gave Vane a bowl that would allow him to see into the memories of a man and obtain vast, psychic power should he spill blood into it. He gave Vincent a necklace that would give him vast strength and physical prowess that was equivalent to the loyalty of the people around him. The angel apparently hoped that the two brothers would unite together and use their strengths to rule better.

Biggest.

Mistake.

Ever.

Vane just used the blood callously, forcing his men to bleed for him to gain more power. Vincent viciously beat others into submission, forcing them to pledge loyalty to him. The greed of the two brothers turned them both into monsters. Vane became the first vampire as he drank the blood of his victims. Vincent became the first werewolf, vicious and savage.

No wonder Rob chose to use this place as the basis of a book.

"Kristine! You're here!"

Kristine went rushing into the arms of a tall, well-groomed lion. That was Dennis Carter. He was quite handsome with his nutty-brown hair arranged in a way that seemed roguish but still stylish and full of body. He was wearing the red contacts that were apparently part of Rob's vampires. His build was impressive, probably close to my own though I like to think I have more definition mostly because I got my build from fighting aliens and abominations and not from a crash diet and hours in the gym.

"I missed you!" Dennis said softly in her ear. Then he pulled away and, a little louder, "How'd you get here so soon? We just sent out the car!"

Kristine gave Dennis an 'I missed you too' look before saying, "I got a ride." She gestured at me. "This is J.S. Reaper. You know, the famous author?"

I gave the couple a slight wave. There were rumours that Dennis and Kristine were an item. I'll admit that I was disappointed. Some of the gay men of the world would have wept after knowing that Dennis was off the market. No one cared that he was straight. The fantasy would live on as long as he was unattached. Still, while I mourned the loss of that fantasy, Dennis really isn't to my taste.

Speaking of my tastes...

HOT HUNK ALERT!

"Kristy!"

That husky, youthful voice made my heart leap and my tail wag.

Chad West came running out from one of the motel rooms, shirtless, dressed in nothing but cut off denim shorts and bare foot. The big Husky came running across courtyard, a big grin on his youthful features with his coal-black hair quite a stark contrast against his russet and chalk fur. He ran up straight to Kristine, scooped her up in his bulging arms and swung her around playfully, making her squeal.

Fantasy time!

Chad West came running out of that motel room... Shouting my name... And he ran straight towards me, scooping me up in his tight, muscular arms. He spun me around once... twice... three times before we both collapsed on the concrete, our noses touching... He kissed me tenderly, told me he loved me and then we'd proceed to have steamy hot sex, right there and then, outdoors, in the rain in front of everyone...

Thwack!

"Yarf!"

Something hit the back of my head and I ducked my head instinctively, turning around.

There stood a tall, white rabbit with a pair of small, circular spectacles, his right ear - which was pierced - down and his left ear up with a black beret hiding his blonde hair. A thick, fluffy, rainbow coloured scarf was wrapped around his neck over a dark green turtleneck and denim hotpants. All somehow hid his rather feminine figure.

"No dreaming about the merchandise, Reaper," Robert Lester said with a playful scowl. "When you start making your own movies, you can dream about the stars playing your characters."

I chuckled and shook his paw. "Good to see you again, Rob. How's things going?"

He rolled his eyes and waved the rolled up script in his paws listlessly. "Oh, it's just terrible, Jake. It rains when we don't want it to and when we do, it doesn't. And when we're trying to move from one place to another, a car always has to get stuck in the mud. Keeping certain roads closed off so we can film is also a strain on my wallet."

"I'll bet." I glanced over to the motel where the trio of friends were enjoying each other's company. Dennis had an umbrella so they weren't getting wet. Jacob and Rob were, however, but Jacob didn't mind. He hadn't taken a shower anyway because he was in such a rush to leave.

"So what brings my favourite wuffie over here from that drab apartment of yours? And I see you're still that little 'Yarfy Dog'." I hated that nickname. I couldn't help it! 'Yarf' was like my version of 'eep' or 'gah'! "Seriously, you build a mansion for your parents and you don't move in with them."

"Which is worse?" I asked, folding my arms with a smirk. "Me living with my parents or what you just said?"

"Honey," Rob giggled, swatting my arm with his script, "if you're that well endowed, no one will care."

I rolled my eyes. Rob wasn't just referring to the copious amounts of money I had saved up.

I wasn't just an author. When I told Kristine tonnes of people would be after my money if and when I died, I wasn't lying. I had invested in a lot of things over the years, primarily real estate. Safer, greener energy sources and space programs too. Plus, the governments of certain countries tend to pay me quite a bit after I stop multiple 'embarrassing incidents'... like that race of mutant canines with paralysing saliva and transformative semen...

That was a fun weekend.

Rob was one of the few people who really knew what I was worth. Even Zeke didn't know and he was my roommate and best friend. As far as most people knew, my parents were the ones that were rich and I was the idiot kid who decided to turn away from the riches and become a bestselling - but dirt poor - author.

Rob was also one of my first boyfriends.

He liked it when I called him 'daddy'.

"So what brings you to my neck of the woods, puppy?" Rob asked, inclining his head to the side.

"I had a book signing."

He laughed at that, clapping my shoulder. "Now you know why I switched over to movies!"

"Yeah. I'm tempted to do that myself."

The bunny winked at me and led me towards the motel, beneath the shade so that we weren't getting wet again. "Well, you can lay low with us for a while. You might learn a thing or two, kiddo!"

"Just like old times."

Chapter 1.2: Lights! Camera! No Action!

Crosstown Motel

I was never a very religious person.

From an early age, the existence of gods was disproved to me when I found a paper crane next to me one day that told me I was a superhero. Whenever I asked some supposedly rhetorical question, a paper crane would appear beside me and give me an answer that would shut me up. If I was ever stuck on something, a paper crane would appear. If I ever questioned the gods, a paper crane would appear and tell me there were no such thing as gods, just mortals.

So I wasn't religious.

But right now, I was convinced there was a god... and there was a devil.

Why?

Because there was only one room in the motel that had an extra bed.

And that was Chad West's room.

Apparently, his trailer was currently stuck in the mud and sinking so he was sleeping in the motel with the rest of the staff. Not that he minded.

So hallelujah, praise the Lord!

But on the downside...?

His concept of personal space was 'if we're somehow merged together, then we've got a problem. Anything less than that, is good.'

Oh and he's never read any of my books.

The devil has it out for me.

"So you're a famous author just like Rob, right?"

"Not really," I answered, entering the small bathroom and stripping off my wet clothing. I shut the door behind me. "He's a big shot movie producer now. I don't think I'll ever go to making movies."

"Why not?" Chad shouted from the other side of the door.

I sighed and pulled off my underwear, setting it on the small sink and taking one of the complimentary towels. "Because... Movies are too hard to make."

"It's actually pretty easy."

For him, of course it was. All he had to do was look pretty - which he did very well, might I add - and recite a few lines. For directors and writers... it was harder. And I don't think I can be an actor.

Too many lies already.

I jumped into the shower, shut the door and flicked on the hot water. I shuddered as the steam rose and I let my muscles relax... I also killed my libido a bit. My fantasies were going wild when I realised I'd be rooming with Chad. But he was straight and I'm not some sexual predator.

Funny thing was, we were about the same age - I think he's actually older by a year - but I feel infinitely older. Maybe it's because I've probably been through exactly the same thing he's had to deal with in his young career except his were all special effects and actors in bad costumes while mine were real.

But I can fantasise.

If I couldn't, then I wouldn't be much of an author.

Oh damnit...

Thinking about fantasising caused me to start fantasising...

Damn...

"Don't tell me you're scared to make movies because of the reviews."

I jumped as the shower door opened. Chad stood there - fully clothed, sadly - but still seeing me completely naked with my fully hard twelve-inch, black cock standing erect and one of my paws wrapped around my member. He froze... his bright, brown eyes wide...

I remembered I had forgotten to lock the door.

"Whoa... Is that real?"

I had to think fast.

"Erm... No... It's prosthetic..."

Okay, next time I 'think fast', I should add intelligence into the equation...

"Whoa man... That's like... Damn..." Chad's eyes slowly trailed up from the base of my member, up to the tip, over my firm abs, my large pecs and finally up to my eyes. "Can I...? Can I touch it...?"

Say no... I have to say 'no'.

"Yeah..."

In my world, that's 'no'.

Seriously, I should get a Reaperise-to-Rillotian dictionary written up.

Chad reached over with his huge, thick paw... and gripped my cock. I shuddered at his warm, almost volcanic touch.

"Man... I've never seen anything this big before... I mean, Dennis is pretty hung but he's got nothing on you, man..."

I blinked in surprise. "Wait... Wha - huuut!?" I ended with a moan as Chad squeezed my cock and ran his paw down to the base of my member.

He gave me a devilish grin. "Aw, come on, man. You're a smart guy. The female lead is gone for a while, leaving the two of us kinda high and dry. We gotta let some steam of somehow, right?"

I totally understand that.

And suddenly... imagining Dennis and Chad mounting each other...

Oh damn...

"You know, I've always wanted to be an author too," Chad said, winking at me slyly. "Maybe if I can get some of your 'creative juices' in me, I might be able to get off the ground?"

Wait...

... Okay that was way too clever.

Damnit, I was in my fantasy world.

He shook my head and Chad vanished. My own paw was around my cock.

I groaned and finished off, leaving my urges unattended to. I stuffed my semi-erect member into a new set of pants and exited the bathroom. Chad was rummaging through my belongings. Thankfully, he hadn't found my handguns yet.

No personal space.

This trip is going to be so much fun.

I almost can't wait for the shit to hit the fan...