“… and so long story short they ended up at the palace of the Black Hand. A nasty sect of vampires that has it’s fingers in every cookie jar in the universe from what I understand. That was not the last time they ran into them, and I met them myself even. Well as it turns out, they did have Drak’s body, but it had a new owner and he wasn’t too keen to give it up. The Hirophant, the leader of the Black Hand’s operations in the Underworld was trying to convince them to leave it, all civil like. He told them a secret: Dragon’s steal their bodies. So now they had to decide who they were ready to believe, and more importantly what the hell to do. Things weren’t what they seemed though, and they ended up walking out of that place with a body and the twilight mirror in tow…”

Ester sighed, “Mr Grelle, you’ll have to be more specific than that. What happened in the citadel?”

Morden sighs, but comically to mock Ester then looked at her with anger in his features, “Mrs. Numan, I think you know exactly what happened in the tower, just like I think you know this entire story already. So either you’ll let me tell it the way I god damn feel like it, or I’ll just set off this thermo nuclear device that I have implanted in me and take all you mother fuckers to see the Underworld first hand.”

Ester jumped up at this and made for the door. Her hand hovered over the knob, when there was a loud ringing sound behind her, followed by a disgusting fleshy noise. Morden spoke loudly, but with fatigue in his voice:

“Sit your ass back on that chair, I’m not bluffing. You spooks aren’t as bad ass as you think you are. You have to go through the channels, follow the law. I can get anything I want. It’s like a fucking black market candy store out there, and I am a regular. So now, please. Sit back down, and listen to the end of the story.”

Ester turned around. Morden had… limbs. Her jaw dropped. Resting on the table, where two very pink hands rested, looking like they were brand new. In Morden’s chest, a small panel had opened, showing the palm sized device implanted next to his heart that could level the entire facility. Her training kicked in, talk the crazy man down, try to talk sense into him.

“You’re right, I know the story. We just wanted to hear it from you. We have most of the pieces, enough to see what the picture looks like, but not enough to put the whole thing together. So rather than threatening to murder four thousands people, why not just relax?”

“I’m still talking, because there’s a part I want you to hear Easter. A part of the story that the government doesn’t know, but desperately needs to. And don’t give me that shit about four thousand people, I detected all thirteen of you the second I came to. I also know where’re on a space ship, probably a Lazarus from the way the engine kicks. Anyway, they left with the mirror and the body and headed back to the King. Turns out he was the only one that was capable of using the fucking thing. Do you believe in god Ester? Never mind, I don’t care. What matters is that he used to exist, the God, the one that all the fucking books talk about. And he left his marks on the world, and the King of the Underworld was one of them. Like a fucking message written in fire on the side of a mountain. The problem is that for humans to understand that message, would be like cockroaches reading Shakespeare. But they sort of knew something was off with the guy, I mean he lived in a fucking meat castle for crying out loud. Well, they made it through anyways, but they didn’t know what they took with them. They had no fucking idea. Nobody did….”

Morden stared at the floor for a second, lost in thought. Without looking back up, he almost whispered: “That’s when things went from bad to worse to worst to end of the fucking world.”