Chapter 14 - The Beast In Me

The beast in me
Has had to learn to live with pain
And how to shelter from the rain
And in the twinkling of an eye
Might have to be restrained
God help the beast in me


His shift was now over. Possibly his entire career was now over. Everything Grant Roberts had worked so hard over the years of trying to pass himself as normal was gone. All from the acts of a man who Grant had stopped from continuing a brutal rape on his lawyer Claire Sawyer. All from a man who now harbors nothing but hatred for Grant and his kind. All from trying to do something good with his nature. All the goodwill he had harbored with Amy Moore had now been blown up. And for what? Grant sat outside the hospital, waiting for his cab ride home. Maybe if this whole lawsuit produces a minimal out-of-court settlement, Grant could try and build a new life elsewhere. Meanwhile, an exhausted Amy emerged from the entranceway, covered in sweat and blood stains on her operating scrubs. She approached Grant with some reservation, but did not hold back. “To be honest, I had my suspicions.” Amy quietly told Grant, who looked at her with intrigue.

“Really? Why did you not ask me then?” Grant asked.

“Well, I know its not totally the same, but I had a brother who was gay,” Amy answered as she sat down next to Grant. “He always kept it to himself, especially from our dad. Dad was really from the old school and would have whipped the piss outta him for even thinking like a ‘goddamn queer’ – dad’s words, not mine.”

“Hm,” Grant simply said, listening to Amy’s story. She went on, “Anyways, a couple of local toughs decided it would be quite the laugh to out him in front of everyone in the pub. He wasn’t ready for that moment at all. A few days later, he took his own life”, she concluded as she wiped away a few tears that ran down her cheek.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Grant said as he awkwardly placed his arm around Amy’s shoulder.

“Ever since, I realized that we all have our burdens to bear, our own crosses we carry, and we all need to lay them down at the right time,” Amy said.

“And yet you still want to be around me?”

“I do admit it seems weird but I have never met one up real close before.”

Oh great, here we go again! Grant thought to himself. “Really?” he asked Amy.

“Nope. Always wanted to meet one, just to see if all the stories were true about your lot.”

“Well like everything else, some of it is based in truth. Others are exaggerated lies or half-truths.” Grant told Amy.

“Well as trite as it may sound, you don’t sparkle.”

“Thankfully I don’t. The sparkly ones are a bit too fragile.”

“You’re not going to feed off me, are ya?”

“I haven’t fed on human blood in nearly seventy years.”

“But you got all the other stuff, like super hearing, super smelling, super strength?”

“Yes.”

“So why didn’t you punch that wanker out then?” Amy asked with a smile on her face.

“Because I have seen enough pointless violence in my life – both as a mortal and a vampire.” Grant bluntly told her.

“When were you actually born? Sorry if I’m being annoying with my questions.” Amy asked, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and interest.

“I was born in the early 1890s. I served in the first World War.” Grant told her.

“Was that when you became, ya know, well, you?”

“Shortly after the end of the war. I caught the pandemic flu and made a deal with a very unfortunate woman.” Grant said with remorse.

“Did you have any proper family? Girlfriend? Wife?”

“Was engaged.”

“Huh,” Amy shrugged. “Did you ever track her down?”

“Didn’t want to,” Grant told her. “The reason I became what I am was to make sure I would never be without her. Boy was I wrong.”

“I see,” Amy said. “Your flat mates, are they also vampires?”

“I wish. One is a ghost and one is a werewolf.”

“Now you gotta be putting me on, mate!”

“Seriously. They are. Does that weird you out?”

“You tell me,” Amy said as she smiled at Grant. Amy moved closer to Grant, holding his hand. Grant sighed deeply. “I know it may sound weird, but I still would like to come over to my flat”, Amy said.

“But I’m not a typical vampire. I’m not even an atypical one.” Grant said.

“I know, but that don’t matter to me right now.” Amy said as the taxi cab pulled up. The two of them got up and entered the cab as Grant breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps this was not such a bad thing after all – coming to terms with who he truly was.


The entire area of the Edmonton Remand Center was blocked off as emergency crews still worked on sorting through the rubble. Off to the side, about a half-dozen or so temporary trailers were set aside for the surviving prisoners to be held in until a more suitable location could be established. Various police officers were gathered on the opposite side of the barricade and crime scene tape. Among them were Simon Fererra and Kaitlyn Russo, who stood huddled together with their fellow officers as Joan Sperling briefed them all. “All right ladies and gentlemen,” Sperling said, “We are obviously dealing with a very organized and very dangerous element within the vampire community.”

A random officer asked “How do we know for sure the vampires were responsible for this?”

“Eyewitness accounts from the few surviving guards indicated that five men came in, broke out both the unregistered vampires and an individual vampire being held in a totally unrelated investigation,” Sperling answered.

“Any information on the identity of the five men?” Another officer asked.

“Nothing clear as of now. But again, based on early accounts these five men blitzed the Remand Centre shortly after the bomb went off. Even more perplexing is eyewitness accounts of guards encountering wolves and or werewolves.”

Kaitlyn spoke up and asked “Wait a minute, werewolves? How?”

“Mister Koloff and Detective Swift were one of the first officers on the scene and questioned one of the staff members who said the five men somehow transformed into wolves and later on werewolves. Both Koloff and Swift are in pursuit of the five men as we speak.” Sperling answered. Then in a sense of ironic or impeccable timing, Cameron Swift and Sergei Koloff appeared from the south end of the block. Sergei had an unknown body draped over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry position. The two of them walked over to where Sperling was standing. Sergei then laid the body down on the ground next to Sperling. Sergei showed no signs of exhaustion or fatigue. Cameron, on the other hand, looked like he was finally ready for bed. “Care to explain this?” Sperling asked the two of them.

“It took a while and a little cunning, but we caught a member of the Bratstvo Kresta,” Sergei calmly yet proudly proclaimed.

“How do you know for sure?” Sperling asked. Sergei acknowledged the question by ripping open the man’s shirt. Below his hairy chest and around his abdomen was a tattoo. The tattoo was best described as an inverted Eastern Orthodox cross, surrounded by a circle. “That is how I know,” Sergei added, “The symbol of the Brotherhood, every member bares this symbol on their bodies in their human form.”

“Great, so wake him up and let’s take him into questioning then.” Sperling instructed Sergei. After a huge yawn, Cameron spoke “Um, that’s gonna be a little hard to do so, ma’am.”

“How so?” Sperling asked.

“This man is dead,” Sergei coldly replied.

“Great!” Sperling exclaimed with frustration. “Our only lead is dead, god knows how many vampires are loose in the city, and this isn’t going to carry over any goodwill we have with the public!”

“There was a method to my approach, ma’am,” Sergei commented. “The Bratstvo Kresta always replaces a fallen comrade, usually from the old country. We stake out any and all incoming transports from Russia, we will find out whom has contracted their services.”

Quietly and to the aside, Cameron mentioned to Sergei “I thought it was dumb luck how we caught him. I mean we just kinda tripped into him and you went all KGBeast on him.” To which Sergei replied back, also aside and quietly “I’m trying to save face, shut it!”

“All right then,” Sperling said. “Swift? Get some rest and coordinate search parties for all shipping yards, airport hangers, and anywhere else we can think of. Anyone else have any suggestions?”

Kaitlyn finally stepped forward and spoke up. “Ma’am? With permission, I would like to get a couple search warrants for both the Stanfield estate and New City Suburbs night club.”

“On what grounds exactly?” Sperling asked back.

“I have reasons to believe that this whole event was a setup by the Stanfield family,” Kaitlyn replied back.

“It’s gonna take me a helluva lot of convincing to get one, but I’ll see what I can do,” Sperling said as Kaitlyn nodded in approval. Sperling then dismissed all the officers while Kaitlyn and Simon walked over to Sergei and Cameron. The two of them looked at the body and Kaitlyn asked “So, the two of you tracked them down and only got one?”

“In most wolf packs, there is an alpha and omega of the pack. This was an omega – the weaker link.” Sergei noted to Kaitlyn.

“So you killed a weak link,” Simon noted. “Anything else you care to share about our would-be terrorists?”

“Not necessarily about them, but I do vaguely recall seeing a truck and trailer with a bunch of vampires in there.” Cameron answered. “Caught the trailer’s license plate and ran a search on it. Was a rental.”

“So, we call the rental company and find out who rented it, and we got ourselves a suspect” Simon stated.

“Ehh, speak for yourself.” Cameron said with a yawn. “I need to catch some sleep before I lose my REM sleep and end up going crazy,” he added as he sauntered off slowly.

“Huh, that seemed totally random,” Kaitlyn said. “Speaking of randomness, I got an appointment at nine thirty. I’ll see you guys later,” she said to Sergei and Simon. Simon went off in another direction as Sergei followed Kaitlyn towards her car. “Detective Russo, if I may have a moment of you time,” he said while in pursuit.

“Make it quick. I didn’t get enough sleep as it was,” Kaitlyn replied back in a rush.

“I have some questions in regards to your investigation in the Mill Creek case…” Sergei tried to finish the rest of his opening but Kaitlyn cut him off in mid-sentence. “… Look? I said all I had to say during the inquiry. I know I made a mistake, I’ve slowly accepted it and I moved on. End of discussion.”

“But” Sergei tried to get Kaitlyn to talk more as she got into her car. “I just want to get more of a perspective in regards to Bryan Daniels.”

Kaitlyn sighed and replied back, “He too was a mistake I have gotten over as well.”

“Meaning what exactly?” Sergei asked as Kaitlyn turned the ignition on. She told Sergei “I’ll explain later. I got to get going here, okay?”

“Sure, not a problem.” Sergei said with disappointment as Kaitlyn pulled away. His investigation had seemed to hit a bit of a roadblock. Now all Sergei hoped for was when he questions Simon Fererra that he too doesn’t stonewall him as well.


Amy Moore put the key to her apartment door inside the key lock. She turned and opened the door as she walked in her simple, yet spacious single bedroom suite. Amy walked in and turned around to see Grant Roberts standing in the middle of the doorway, almost as if he was frozen or stuck there. “What?” Amy asked. “Don’t tell me you’re a neat freak too?” she jokingly asked as she quickly brushed off a few pairs of pants that were haphazardly laying on her sofa.

“Apartments and hotels all have a common area that is open to the public. Individual suites, not so much.” Grant explained. “Oh, shit! Forgot about that,” Amy said back, feeling slightly embarrassed. “Is there like a special way to do it, or is it something simple?” she asked.

“No, it’s just a simple invite,” Grant assured her. “All right then, feel free to come in then,” Amy said as Grant crossed over the threshold and into her suite. Amy quickly ran over to her window, not realizing her eastward facing apartment was about to let in a whole lot of sunshine into the room. “Sorry about that, mate” Amy said again, trying to not show how unprepared she truly was.

“It’s all right,” Grant assured her. Grant studied the apartment and its contents. “Interesting décor” Grant commented as he looked at some paintings that Amy had hanging on the wall, mixed with contemporary movie posters.

“Yeah, my mum was an art teacher back home. She also fancied herself a bit of an amateur artiste herself.” Amy told Grant. Grant studied one painting in particular – a black, gray and purple affair with a silhouette of a woman looking out towards an ocean-side view. “This one is, interesting,” Grant noted.

“Yeah, was based on a story my nana used to tell me when I was a little girl,” Amy said, waxing poetically about it. “She told me of a story of a woman who saw her true love come home from the war and they had all these plans to live together and start a family. Then one day, he became sick and went to the hospital. But before he went in, he told her to wait for him always and would be back soon. Sadly, he never appeared again but this woman, she kept true to her word and waited for him. I know its not the happiest of tales but sometimes tragic love stories can have bittersweet moments in it, no?”

Grant thought for a moment and realized the story that Amy’s grandmother told had some parallels to his own life – the returning soldier, the loving woman, the tragic illness, and a promise never fully kept. “Quite true,” Grant dryly agreed with Amy.

“So, do you like sleep like a normal person or do you need like a casket?” Amy asked, once again feeling a little foolish.

“Surprisingly I don’t anymore.” Grant told her, noticing the sun beginning to peak around the horizon. “And speaking of which, I need to be sleeping soon.”

“Oh right,” Amy said as she guided him to her bedroom, it too was in a slight disarray with clothes scattered on the floor. “I got some errands to run and I could sleep on the sofa when I am back,” she told Grant. “But to be honest I may sneak in later to just watch you.” she said with a smile.

“That would be perfect with me.”

“I know this may sound really stupid but, could ya, I dunno, show your true face to me?” Amy bashfully asked. Grant looked at her strangely. The last time he bared his true face was when he rescued Claire Sawyer from her attacker. But something about Amy was different from all the other people. He found her questions and misunderstandings a little endearing as opposed to frustratingly ignorant like others. Something about Amy made Grant feel comfortable to be around, and thusly he granted her request. With his fangs sticking out and slight bumps sticking out around his forehead and eyebrows, Grant revealed his true nature to Amy Moore. Expecting her to scream in horror, Grant stood in amazement as Amy just looked at him. She took her hands and gently caressed him bumps. It was indeed a sensation Grant never expected to have. The sensation of being normal.


“Are you sure this isn’t a trap for me?” Seth Rollins nervously asked Kaitlyn, who paced back and forth, making sure her suite was ready for her appointment with Doctor Laura Whitehorse and a Navajo shaman. Both of them were coming over to conduct a memory recovery ceremony for Kaitlyn so she could try and remember the details of her own rape back when she was eighteen. “Yes Seth,” Kaitlyn sarcastically replied back, “We’re gonna do some sort of incantation and trap your essence in a jar or something.”

“I’m just asking because this whole thing seems kinda fishy to me,” Seth said with skepticism. “How does drinking tea and hypnosis help you remember something you yourself barely remember? Or more importantly, why now?”

“Because Doctor Whitehorse theorizes that if I can know for sure what kind of werewolf was involved before, during, or after my assault, there might be a slim chance of doing some kind of other ceremony to remove the spirit out from me.”

“See? Spirit? Remove?” Seth nervously said. “I thought you were cooler than that.”

“Oh knock it off,” Kaitlyn told Seth. “If you’re that worried about it affecting you, then just stay out of it, okay?”

“Yes, yes.” Seth said. “I’ll keep out of this little voodoo that they do so well,” he finally said as he faded out of the room. A knocking on the door timed well with Seth’s departure as Kaitlyn opened it to reveal Doctor Whitehorse and the shaman, both standing and waiting for Kaitlyn to invite them in.


“Detective Fererra?” Sergei Koloff shouted at Simon Fererra as the two of them were heading in separate directions from outside the downtown police offices. “Detective Fererra? I need to speak with you,” he said once the two of them were in speaking distance. “Better make it quick,” Simon said, “Just heading to check out a possible lead on the renter of the trailer you and Swifty saw last night.”

“I need to ask you about the Mill Creek Reaper case and Bryan Daniels.” Sergei said straight to the point.

“I was wondering when you were gonna get to me,” Simon replied back. “What do need to know?”

“I am very curious as to why so many of you were willing to dismiss the case and write it off afterwards.”

“Probable cause, basically. Daniels was a nutjob,” Simon stated and went on, “It was one thing to work alongside us in undercover sting operations to catch online predators, it was another thing when he insisted on going on ride-alongs and making citizen’s arrests on a consistent basis.”

“Seems like the same response Detective Newhart gave me,” Sergei said, “What role did Detective Russo have in this investigation?”

“She tried to have a minimal role once Daniels was named a person of interest,” Simon answered. “Hell, she wanted off the case because of a conflict of interest with him.”

“Conflict of interest? How so?” asked Sergei.

“She and Daniels dated briefly. Wasn’t anything serious, but when she ended it with him, I dunno, maybe that was when he went further off the deep end,” Simon answered.

“Interesting,” Sergei noted. “No wonder she wasn’t willing to talk about it. Mind if I ask a more personal question.”

“Depends.”

“What exactly is your relationship with Detective Russo?”

“Well, she’s like my sister. That, and I’m a happily married man.” Simon tautly replied back.

“No wonder you seem, protective, of her,” Sergei observed.

"Other than my family, she would be someone I would gladly give my life to if the situation arises,” Simon mentioned to Sergei. “I know where you are coming from,” Sergei noted.


A series of aromatic candles surrounded Kaitlyn Russo and the Navajo shaman, both of them sitting on the floor of Kaitlyn’s suite. Kaitlyn took a sip of tea from a cup and place the cup down in the middle of the floor between her and the shaman. “All right Miss Russo,” the shaman instructed, “Close your eyes, take a deep breath and concentrate only on my voice. Concentrate hard and focus only on my voice as we go back, Kaitlyn.”

“I understand,” Kaitlyn responded in a hushed tone.

“All right, Kaitlyn,” the shaman went on, “I want you to tell me everything you can recall about that night in May of ninety-five.”

“There was a party a week before we all graduated from high school,” Kaitlyn began to recall. “We had it in this bush area we all used to go to just five miles south of Sherwood Park. We had a bonfire going, we had loud music, and we had lots of booze there also.”

“All right, now, tell me what else can you recall about that night,” the shaman asked.

“I remember this guy Evan, he was in my class, he kept talking to me all night, and he kept bringing me drinks,” Kaitlyn continued to recall, “I felt slightly dizzy but I thought it was just because I was drinking too much too soon. I remember the two of us at one point dancing, he did place his hands on my hips. I remember again feeling dizzy yet he kept bringing me drinks. At one point, I almost tripped and fell down, but Evan was there to pick me up. He seemed so nice. He always was nice to me.”

“What else can you remember?”

“I remember Evan and I going for a walk away from the party. We walked about a mile I think to a clearing. We were in this field and I felt dizzy again, Evan guided me to lie down on the ground. He then lied down next to me…” Kaitlyn paused at that thought, her breathing got a little more rapid.

“Kaitlyn, please focus,” the shaman requested. “What happens next?”

Kaitlyn struggled to remember. Holding back tears, she did muster up a memory: “I remember him lying next to me, he kissed me at first and I remember allowing him to do so. He then kept kissing me, he brushed my hair back, telling me how much he always wanted to do this. I kissed him back, but then I felt his hands moving down my neck and the rest of my body,” Kaitlyn again paused, as if she was frozen in fear of carrying on.

“Keep focusing, no matter how painful it seems,” the shaman told Kaitlyn. “We are unlocking a repressed memory here, do your best to remember.”

Kaitlyn held back more tears and continued on. “I remember fading in and out of consciousness. I remember seeing Evan on top of me, telling me not to fight it. I try to get him off of me but he’s got me pinned down to the ground. His hands I can barely feel any more but I remember screaming, begging Evan to stop. He tells me to scream as much as I want to, it excited him,” Kaitlyn stopped and quietly allowed her tears to trickle down. Softly sobbing, she continued “I remember his hands taking my pants off as I weakly try to kick him off.. I scream more but I remember him gagging my mouth shut with his shirt. Oh god! No!”

“As painful as it may be, I need you to concentrate Kaitlyn.”

“He’s got his fingers inside me!” Kaitlyn sobbed. “I recall him saying on how nice it felt, how much he’s going to enjoy doing this. I remember passing out from the pain of him forcing himself into me!”

“Alright Kaitlyn, now I need to see if you recall anything that happened before you were found the next morning,” the shaman requested.

Still sobbing, Kaitlyn continued to recount the events: “I don’t remember much, everything was a blur. I vaguely recall Evan rolling me over onto my front, saying how much he dreamed of doing me from behind. I remember crying, crying for him to stop. Then I vaguely remember a growling sound. I remember hearing Evan screaming as I felt something dragging me away gently. I slipped in and out of consciousness, only to see what I think is a dog, licking me, then howling…” Kaitlyn stopped in mid thought. “Wait a minute, you I don’t remember here!” she exclaimed.

“Kaitlyn?” the shaman asked. “Who is there now?”

“This man, this tall man with a red glove is here!” Kaitlyn began to panic. “He stands over me, telling me I should be blessed to have been touched tonight! I see then two sets of dog eyes looking at me! I think they’re dogs! My god! No! Get out of here!” Kaitlyn screamed as she began to breathe rapidly. While observing the proceedings, Doctor Whitehorse told the shaman “I think we should stop here.” The shaman nodded in agreement and then told Kaitlyn, “All right, Kaitlyn, I’m going to snap my fingers and when I do, you will wake up and retain these memories…” Kaitlyn begged the shaman “No! I want them out of my head! I want this beast in me gone!”

“We can work on that together, but I need you to wake up now, Kaitlyn,” the shaman said. “I am going to count backwards from three and then I will snap my fingers, okay? Three, two, one…” the shaman snapped his fingers and Kaitlyn’s eyes opened. She breathed in and out, “My god. Why didn’t I remember it now?!” Kaitlyn exclaimed as she got up and ran to the bookshelf. She pulled out her high school yearbook and frantically flipped through the book. Kaitlyn then stopped on a page and looked at a photo of a brown-haired man named Evan Jackson. “Him”, Kaitlyn said. “That’s the son of a bitch who drugged and raped me!”


In the back room of New City Suburbs, the four black-coated Russian men, known collectively as the Bratstvo Kresta – the Brotherhood of the Cross, sat at a table. The four men were playing a card game, talking quietly in Russian, and drinking shots of vodka. The black doorman opened a door and pointed them out to Anya and the red gloved man, who was carrying a briefcase. “They’ve been in here all day, ma’am,” the doorman told Anya. “Just sitting in here playing cards and drinking,” he added.

“Filthy beasts,” Anya sneered. “What do they think they are?” Anya then walked over to the table and slammed her hand on it, as if to gain their attention. The larger of the four men spoke up, “We were mourning the loss of our brother Ilya.”

“I’ll make sure to send flowers,” Anya sarcastically snapped at the Brotherhood. “Anyways, our friend here has a little present for you all.” Anya motioned for the red-right-handed man to approach the table. He dropped the briefcase on top of the table and then opened it to reveal a large quantity of cash. “It seems a little… light,” one of the Brotherhood members said.

“Not amount boss lady told us!” the broken-English speaking Brotherhood member added.

“Oh for Satan’s sake!” Anya exclaimed. “It’s only a half-payment for the half job you smelly beasts have done for us!”

“What more do you want us to do?” the apparent leader of the Brotherhood asked. “We attacked fraternity. We broke out your imprisoned demons. Now what do you want more from us?”

“In due time, it will be explained,” Anya told him. “And in the meantime, we got a side project for you all. Some do-gooder police officers seem to be sniffing around our respective benefactor’s home. We need to send them a message.”

“Nyet!” Three of the Brotherhood members said in unison. This anger Anya who grabbed one the smaller ones by his throat and threw him against the wall. “It wasn’t a request!” Anya yelled as she squeezed his throat. The leader of the Brotherhood interjected himself into the disagreement by punching Anya halfway across the room. “What my brothers meant to say is, we await Ilya’s replacement. Our brother Vladimir.”

“Interesting, I almost felt that.” Anya said as she picked herself up. “Is he a runt like your other brother?”

“He is only little brother in age,” the leader said as he and the other three Brotherhood members chuckled, then laughed in a uproarious manner. Anya shook her head and muttered, “Werewolf humor. I don’t fucking get it!” as she and the red-handed man left the Brotherhood to their laughing fit.