The Warlock’s Curse (Of Magic and Monsters Book 1)

Chapter 15: 15: The Cage


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I didn’t dare move as Major Wilson stalked towards me, his rifle trained on me.

Then he turned the muzzle away from me.

“What are you doing?” he barked.

“I...”

“Never mind. You! You two men! We’ve got a civilian here. Make sure he’s safe at all costs.”

It took me a second to realise that Major Wilson was talking about me.

Even though his base had just been torn to pieces, he still had his eye on me. He wasn’t concerned for my safety because I wa a civilian. He was thinking of me as an asset. I guessed right now, assets were even more valuable than they had been just a couple of hours earlier.

Two soldiers snapped to my side as Wilson turned his attention elsewhere. The eerie wind that had been blowing around the base stopped and the smoke from the fires drifted upwards.

“Sir, they’ve gone. The base is secure.”

“Secure,” the Major repeated with a bitter tone, “Pursuit?”

“They took out all the vans, sir. We’re on foot until help arrives. And, sir, we captured one. The werewolf. We got two bullets into it. It’s Brooks, sir.”

“Where is he?” Wilson growled.

The soldier pointed towards the cage.

Brooks was on his knees in front of the metal square, his arms bound behind his back. He was bleeding from gunshot wounds to his leg. Wilson’s eyes narrowed. He made a sharp ‘follow me’ gesture with his right hand. The two soldiers and I walked behind Wilson as he stalked towards the cage where Brooks was restrained

The command centre was still burning, the tech staff that had survived the blast were huddled in a group far away. Some of them were tending to the injuries of others. I tried not to look too closely, wondered how many had made it out alive. All the power was out and the floodlights were down. The base was being lit by the hot flames of the three buildings, some torches and moonlight.

Our shadows danced and twisted in the flames as we reached the prisoner.

Brooks was back in his human form, two guns trained to his head. His eyes were glazed, his face expressionless.

Major Wilson squatted down and placed his hand on Brooks’ head, lifting it up to stare into his eyes. Then he let go and Brooks gazed vacantly at the floor again.

“I’m not going to ask why,” Wilson said, his voice soft. Clear. Dangerous.

All around him his men stood to attention. Despite the murderous violence of the last half an hour, the surviving soldiers had recovered and fallen into line.

Major Wilson stood up.

“I just want you to send a message,” he said.

Brooks looked up, startled. There was a glimmer of hope in there for a second. My stomach felt sick as I realised what was about to happen. Wilson’s words up on the roof came back to me.

The cage always stays empty.

No matter what.

“No!” I shouted, “Don’t!”

Major Wilson took a pistol from a soldier, stood behind Brooks and shot him twice in the back of the head.

Brooks’ corpse fell to the ground.

“You didn’t have to do that!” I shouted.

I ran towards Wilson, outraged at what he’d done. Despite everything I’d seen and heard, this cold-blooded execution was somehow the worst of it. One of the two soldiers tasked with protecting me grabbed my arm. If I’d been an ordinary teenage boy, that would have been enough to hold me. It wasn’t. I batted his restraining hand away, sending him spinning back. He grunted in surprise.

I ran the four steps towards Wilson and took a swing at him, aiming right for his jaw. I was ready to hit him with all my strength. If I’d connected, I would have broken his neck.

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Wilson stepped to one side. I stumbled past him, my fist failing to get close. I turned, ready to take another swing. Wilson’s pale grey bullet eyes bored into me.

“You didn’t need to kill him!” I yelled.

Brooks’ fallen body was right beside me.

“You need to calm down, son,” Wilson said.

I stood trembling with rage. Wilson’s tone was calm. He ignored the fact I’d taken a swing at him and was ready to do so again.

“Don’t you see what we’re fighting? Are you so blind? Look around you, son. I’ve just lost thirty good men and women. Maybe more. Don’t you see the animals we’re up against?”

“You didn’t have to shoot him!”

As furious as I was, there was no way I would be able to hit Wilson. He was a combat trained military veteran. Me, not so much.

“You could have...”

“Could have what?” Major Wilson spat, his voice raised. For the first time since I’d met him, he betrayed an actual emotion: Anger, as deep as mine was at that moment, “I could have interrogated him? Locked him up? Kept him in a cage for the rest of his – its – miserable life? Do you know what a werewolf is, son? Have you got any idea? It’s a savage beast that will kill you, your friends and your family without a second’s hesitation. And those it doesn’t kill it will infect and make one of its own and believe me that is worse. Brooks was a good man. He must have been infected at some point. Turned. Once you’re turned, there’s no way back - and he knew it. He isn’t the first man I’ve lost and he won’t be the last.

“You might not like it, you might hate me, but I make the tough choices so that civilians like you don’t have to. I’ve told you before, son. This is a war. And if you don’t believe me, then look around you. Look at the dead. Look at the injured. Look at what less than half a dozen of these things did in half an hour to a military base.

“Now imagine if they were let loose in the world. Imagine what would happen if the public found out they existed. Imagine the chaos, the death, the mayhem. It wouldn’t just be them against us. We’d turn on each other in panic and fear. Everyone would suspect everyone else. There’d be blood on the streets. Think about it. Just think about it, you sanctimonious little shit!”

It wasn’t just the words he said that stopped me. It was the sheer pent-up anger behind them.

I unclenched my fists, immobilised by Major Wilson’s tirade.

As abruptly as it had begun, his speech was suddenly over. I realised it had been as much for the benefit of his men as for me. He wiped the soot and grime from his face. He looked tired.

No, that’s not right.

He looked exhausted.

“I know it’s hard, son, but I’ll do whatever is necessary to keep the people safe,” he said, his voice calm again, “I hope that maybe one day you’ll understand that.”

He turned to walk away, back towards the still burning central building.

I think only I heard the next thing he said, it was so quietly spoken. I don’t know if he even meant me to hear it.

“And maybe one day, God will forgive me,” he whispered.

***

Author's Note:

Hey readers and truth seekers!

If you'd like to read more and support my ongoing work on The Warlock's Curse, please check out my Patreon page here: where you can read up to four weeks worth of chapters ahead.

I hope you're enjoying the narrative so far, pieced together as it is from various interviews, recordings and archives, some of which I'm still not technically supposed to have access to, as I'm digging into the truth of the events described, writing from Ethan's perspective.

All support is very gratefully received and will mostly go towards my legal fund when the British Government decides I've finally revealed too much of the truth and take me to court.

Thanks for reading, and keep an eye out for the <redacted>!

Moz

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