THE WYVERN
PART THREE

Filed by Mike Devicente, GBWC Reservist
GBI Case File No. GBWC-2009-27/320

April 2009 -- Timeline Year Twenty-Seven
Pastor Thomas Whitegrape stared out the window of his second story manor. In life he was a priest, much beloved by his community for his generosity, which, given a wealthy inheritance, was incredibly good. He was responsible for founding several charitable organizations, and building a children’s hospital in the area. He died after having accidentally knocked a radio into his bathtub, and though he discovered the afterlife was nothing like what he used to teach, he was not dissatisfied with it. He got to keep his manor after staging a few hauntings to scare away any potential buyers and he prepared to live out the remainder of his eternity with his collection of vintage wines.

He was only disturbed once, about 6 months ago when a group of men in blue suits holding strange weapons burst in. They were looking for a ghost. Thomas calmly and rationally explained that he had personally done nothing wrong. The men in blue suits took his word for it. In fact, they seemed impressed by the fact that he could explain himself at all. They left, and one returned a day later to repair the door he had knocked down when he entered forcefully. Since then there had been no disturbances.

Thomas stared out his window as the sun went down, holding a vintage 1950s tawny port wine in a glass. He heard a noise. He ignored it, thinking it was just this old house settling again. He heard the noise again. He twisted his head. His feet brought him a few steps forward into the darkened hallway.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

No answer. Thomas shook his head. The years of isolation often made his imagination run wild. He stepped back, wondering for a moment why, as a ghost, his footsteps still made noise. There was a clatter, and the sound of something being knocked over in the next room. He shuddered. Yes, ghosts felt fear sometimes, he concluded.

“Hello?” He carefully stalked into the next room. There was a scream, and then, emptiness.
“Okay, so let me get this straight.” Mike gave a pause so he could put down one old book, adjust the teddy bear under his arm, and pick up another old book. “We’re working together on this case now right?”

“Right.” Mick said with a growl. No more than 2 hours in a car with this guy and he was already beginning to regret his decision.

“We’re the only ones aware of this situation, which is a VERY BAD situation right?”

“Right.”

“So, how come I don’t get a proton pack?”

Jeremy gave a sigh. “We went over this before. You need to be an official member of the team before you can handle any of the equipment. You know. Liabilities. That and Internal Affairs would have our asses in a frying pan.”

Mick gave a small shudder, followed by a full body sigh by Mike.

“I’d say it’s very responsible of your corporation to use every available resource possible to deal with this dire situation.”

“Yes it is, and the resource that is in the back seat with all the books needs to shut up and help us dig up what we’re going to need to stop this thing.” Mick snarled.

Mike gave a sneer. Instead of opening the book on his lap, he pulled out his homemade PKE meter and turned it on. All his life he had dreamed of this, and here he was in the middle of it all, but still so far away. Suddenly, the antenna on the device began to rise.

“Uh, guys?”

“No Mike, you can’t use the Proton Pack.” Jeremy scolded.

“Is there usually a large PKE signature on this side of town?”

The Ecto-cruiser slowed to a crawl until they neared the corner. Mick looked out the window, and noticed the mansion. “Oh, yeah, that’s the old Whitegrapes place. There’s a ghost there, but he is harmless.”

“Hm, A harmless ghost with a PKE valence of over 300…”

The Ecto came to a sudden and instant halt.
“Are you sure there’s something that big here?” Jeremy asked as the three of them stalked into the empty mansion. “I mean, that little science project PKE meter of yours might be a little sensitive or something.”

“It’s true. This one’s got the same reading.” Mick said looking down at the PKE meter he brought with him. “Something is here, and it’s bigger than a wine-sucking ex-ex-clergyman.”

“This is fantastic!” Mike exclaimed. “After so many years of fruitless searching, I’ve finally got an opportunity to prove a genuine paranormal phenomenon!”

Jeremy shook his head. “Hate to bust your bubble Mike, but this is just business as usual.” He clicked on his pack. “It’s upstairs.”

The three of them marched upstairs, all stopping with a jerk of their hips as soon as they reached the top steps. Standing before them was a beast both haunting and beautiful. It was lizard-like, with four legs and a long whip-like tail. It had two long rounded horns on top of his head, blood red, eyes and rows of sharp teeth. It looked almost like a hell-hound, except it was most assuredly reptilian.

“Well, well, what have we here?” The beast spoke, then gave a reptilian hiss.

“Well, now it looks just like the picture doesn’t it?” Mike said idly, giving a dry gulp.

“It can speak.” Jeremy said drolly.

“No crap. It just ate a Class 4.” Mick replied.

“Okay. Time to communicate.” Mike bit his lip then took a couple of bold steps in front of the two Ghostbusters. “Who are you?”

“I am known as Sennin. I am the familiar of the wizard Damarcus, exiled from the land of saints in the year of our lord 1478.”

Mike looked over his shoulder to Mick. Mick motioned that Mike continue by rolling one of his hands in a circle. Mike looked back towards Sennin, and began to speak.

“What do you want?”

“I protect my lord from those who do not accept his beliefs. I protect him from those who would capture him, and torture him until he finds false faith.”

Mike nodded. “In other words, your lord fled to America because of Torquemada.”

“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I wasn’t expecting the Spanish Inquisition.” Jeremy quipped.

“We mean you no harm.” Mike said sternly.

The beast snarled, almost knocking the three of them back down the stairs. “Lies!” It roared. “You first tried to use magic to subdue me, then attempted to trap me twice since. How can I believe my master would not be next?”

Mike opened his mouth. Then he closed it. Then he shrugged both his arms. “We’re sorry?”

The best roared and leaped forward. Mike panicked and ran backwards, his foot slipping off the first step. He flopped onto his belly and grabbed onto Jeremy’s leg, just as he was about to fire.

“Hey!” Jeremy and Mick fired their proton beams but because Jeremy was off balance his beam shot up above the Wyvern’s head. It dodged to the side as his beam hit the decayed rafters of the mansion, causing the roof to begin to fall. The Ghostbusters rushed down the stairs to avoid being hit by the cave-in, while Sennin leaped on top of the remains of the caved in roof, stalking towards them.

“Well what do we do now?” Jeremy asked.

“I don’t know, but that last proton beam didn’t even scratch him.” Mick replied. “Figure anything out, Mike?”

“Kinda hard to research when you’re running for your like, Mick.”

“Wonderful.” Jeremy groaned. “Okay…why not hit the ceiling again?”

Jeremy and Mick fired their beams making a good portion of rest of the house crumble down on top of the Wyvern. The three of them scrambled for the front door and into the Ecto cruiser, bolting down the street and into downtown LA.

Mike gave a sigh of relief, scooping up another old tome brom the backseat. “Hokay, I think that bought us some time.”

The cruiser shook.

“Hey, watch those bumps, I’m trying to read!”

“That wasn’t me.” Mick said ominously.

There was another jolt. Jeremy and Mike stuck their heads out to see the Wyvern perched atop the ecto cruiser, using it’s talons to pull the vehicle left and right trying to steer it off the ground. “Aw, gee I just waxed!” Mick said as he struggled with the steering wheel, trying to keep control. Jeremy grabbed his neutrino wand and fired a blast of proton energy at Sennin. It shook its body, unscathed, gave a laugh and then tried to tip the car again.

“Shoot. That really didn’t work.” Jeremy gave a sly grin, pointed the wand again and shot at the Wyvern’s eyes. It howled, if only because the light hand blinded him, and his forelegs pulled themselves loose from the Ecto. Jeremy was about to line up for another shot when the Ecto shook, the interior of the car weaving back and fourth. Outside, Sennin took the Ecto off of the street and was now flying upward with it into the air.

“Okay, that does it…Nobody messes with my paint job!” Mick stuck his head out the window and began shooting at the Wyvern with his proton beam, trying to get another clear shot at his eyes. Meanwhile, Mike, who had scrambled through the Wyvern chapter of the tome, shot his head up from a book and said “Eureka!”

Mike pulled his head out from the car holding an object in his hand that Mick or Jeremy couldn’t see. Mike lobbed it at the Wyvern’s chest, and it burst into steam. Sennin howled and rolled back dropping the Ecto, which bounced on its tires off a hill propping up the freeway, and rolled into a ditch.
Mick pulled himself loose from the entanglement of the steering column and his own body and gave a groan. “Well, that was insane. Is everyone okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Jeremy sat up from the passenger seat and dusted off particles of the windshield from his suit. “How about you Mike?”

“Just about as good as a guy who just survived a car crash can be.” Mike said, rubbing his forehead.

“Just what was that thing you tossed at him anyway?” Jeremy asked, working to push the twisted car door open using his foot.

“Bottled water.” Mike replied.

“Water.” Mick heaved an agitated sigh. “You mean this thing is immune to plan ol’ H2O?”

“Not exactly.” Mike responded. “The wyvern were sent to Earth from a parallel dimension by wizards specializing in the art of alchemy, or the chemical process of turning lead into gold. Since they absorbed a lot of the potions and spells used in attempt to create gold, they are susceptible to the ingredients of a counter-potion used to convert gold back to lead. Water was one ingredient, but since I already doused Sennin with some, it won’t work again.”

Jeremy nodded. “Okay, so what are the other ingredients?”

“Um, grass, oil, and silver.”

“We got plenty of grass.” Jeremy said, kicking the front door open triumphantly.

Mick gave a grin. “I can probably get some oil from the hood of the Ecto. Lucky for you, I don’t buy synthetic.”

“That just leaves silver.” Mike said gleefully. The two of them looked back and fourth from each other, lowered their heads and sighed.

“Well, maybe if we weaken it enough, it will become susceptible to our proton beams again.” Jeremy said triumphantly.

“Yeah, you mean YOUR proton beams.” Mike gave an indignant huff.

“Mike.” Mick gave a sigh. “Do you understand the basic fundamentals of a proton pack?”

“That’s the front end, that’s the back end, that’s the doohickey you pull?” Mike shrugged.

“Close enough.” Mick opened the trunk of the ruined Ecto cruiser and pulled out a spare pack, resting it in Mike’s arms. “Welcome aboard.”
Jeremy, Mick and Mike stalked past the highway and towards a nearby park. Sennin came down from above, his broad wings kicking up dust as he placed his taloned feet on the cement walkway.

“So predictable.” Mick unscrewed the canister in his hand and tossed it at the Wyvern. One it was coated with oil, it again shrieked in pain. As the creature stumbled backwards, smoke rose from its talons. Sennin curled them up, trying to keep from setting talons on the floor again.

“That aughta do it!” Jeremy declared, and shot the first proton beam which struck Sennin’s breast. The beast gave another hiss, stumbling backwards with his hind feet onto the grass again. Then his wings gave a broad sweep, propelling him upwards into the air again.

“It’s no good, we need more grass!” Mike shouted, fumbling with his own neutrona wand.

“More grass? Who do I look like? CheeEEEEeech!” Jeremy was thrown on his back by a strong gust of wind from Sennin’s wings.

The wyvern pressed his talons on Jeremy’s chest, a satisfied smirk on his face. “You made a noble effort, but nevertheless, our truth will live on even when all of your sorceries are exterminated.

“Your mom!” Mick swung at Sennin and with a loud clang. Sennin fell sideways onto the grass, his body beginning to smoke, not from the grass, but by the stop-sign sized indentation Mick’s makeshift weapon made in the beast’s side. Mick looked at the stop sign in his hand and gave a satisfied smirk. “Well, I guess aluminum is good enough.”

Sennin gave a growl, mixed with a gurgling. No, it wasn’t a growl. His neck jerked back and fourth, until his mouth spewed a torrent of ectoplasm in the ground in front of them.

Suddenly the puddle began to bubble, eyes, tentacles, hands and feet rose, until the puddle itself levitated, forming into a misshapen ghost obviously made from the thriving contents of Sennin’s feeding frenzy.

Jeremy moved backwards, his boots sliding back against the pavement onto the grass. “Yecch, it’s only us and the fine folks at the Maternity Ward that’s got to deal with this much mucus.”

“Ecto is ecto.” Mick said idly, as he pulled out his neutrona wand. “Shall we, Mike?”

“Let’s shall.” Mike replied, and together a triple blast from their proton beams, as well as a trap provided by Mick’s side, made quick work of the advancing ghost chimera.

“Cheers.” Mick said, holding out the tip of his smoking blaster towards Mike.

“Cheers.” Mike replied and touched the tip of his own smoking wand with Mick.

“Hang on for a second. HEY ‘VERN!” Jeremy walked a couple of feet away from the others and towards Sennin, who had reverted to his original one-eyed spherical form and tried to limp helplessly away. Jeremy caught him in his proton beam, and guided him into the ghost trap he had holstered at his side. “Know what I mean?”

Inserted. Cleared. Flipped. Green light. Pull…..

Set gently on the table.

Jeremy raised his eyebrows at the stern expression Mick gave him and shook his head. “What?”

Mick sighed. “Nothing.” He turned to Mike and put a hand on his shoulder. “Well, thanks for your help.”

“Save the niceties, Mick. Let’s talk office space. I think for an entrapment like that, I deserve at least a window.”

Mick gave a shrug. “I’d like to help you out, but unfortunately, it’s up to Fritz when he gets back, and of course, there’s a lot of GBI red tape to jump through before you can become an official member of the team.”

“Aw shucks,” Mike crossed his arms and pouted. “I just protected the greater LA population from a soul-sucking monster, and this is all the thanks I get?”

“You’ll get used to it.” Jeremy said as he and Mick left the containment chamber, turning the lights off on Mike on the way out.

THE END
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