Masterbuilt 3-burner tabletop gas grill reviews

https://preview.redd.it/cb5u4dgfrqqa1.png?width=1500&format=png&auto=webp&s=c30d60d4b57d7dca1f47b56f90903ea4d8d9b410
The Adventure Games
By Ringo Cross
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(Chapter 4: continued...)
“Bro. No they don’t,” Brock chuckled.
“What do you think, Sarah?” I asked.
She shrugged and said, “Who cares.”
“Moody teenager,” Brock mumbled.
“He ate the one sandwich I made.”
“Yeah. And I’m surprised he didn’t die like Aaron did! Oh, I’m sorry, ‘choked to death,’” Brock stated.
“You’re an asshole,” I said.
“Okay, so what, he ate your stupid sandwich. They eat but don’t have to eat!” Brock shouted. He couldn’t care less that what he said didn’t make sense. He wasn’t being crude or rude either, that’s just how the guy was.
“You sound crazy, man,” I told him.
“Let’s ask Roger when he gets back.”
“Sure,” I told him rather dismissively.
“How much do you want to bet?”
“Twenty bucks?” I said with a snicker.
Brock came over and said, “Shake on it.”
“Fine,” I said before shaking his hand.
“Hell yeah! This is going to be the easiest twenty bucks I ever made! I can’t wait to go home after tonight’s vote, so I can tell all my buddies how easy of a mark you are,” he hooted while returning to the stove. He sure was in a lively mood. I could tell by the way he flipped the burner on. “Damn, bro, it’s not working.”
“What’s not working?” I asked.
“The burners to the stove, dummy.”
“It’s a gas stove, dummy,” I replied.
“Shush. I know what I’m doing. And watch who you call a dummy,” Brock said while examining the stove. “Damn. You’d think they’d have an electric one.”
“I don’t know, Brock. Gas is probably better for an underground bunker, considering all things.”
Brock looked over at me as if I was ignorant and just shook his head. For the first time in his obnoxious life, he kept his obnoxious thoughts to himself.
“Maybe there’s a manual?” Sarah proposed.
“Why would there be a... humph, I swear, you guys are useless,” he murmured under his breath. “Neither one of you would survive a week in a zombie apocalypse.”
“Whatever, man,” I hissed.
“Why are you upset?”
“Who said I was?” I asked him.
“Ok. If you’re not. Tell me this. How do you clean dirty water without a stove?”
“You boil it.”
“Yeah, if you want hot water,” he chuckled before having the nerve to add, “And I’m sure you probably don’t know how to start a fire.”
“Oh, trust me, I know how to start a fire,” I snarled while staring him down.
“Is that so?” Brock asked, taking my statement as a clear threat. “If you’re so good, come find the gas line, buddy. If not, then watch your mouth.”
“Why? You scared of a little fire?” I asked.
“F off, I’m sorry everyone can’t be as self-righteous as you. At first, I thought your whole little hero-boy routine was a ploy to get the heat off your back, but then I realized, you really are just a moralizing dweeb.”
“Tch. So annoying,” I mumbled.
“Try to ignore him,” Sarah whispered.
When she said that, the two of us started laughing. It was one of those heavy, heady moments that helped us relax and release some of the pent frustration and anger we had gathered up from yet another painful morning and from yet another set of terrible circumstances.
“Oh my God, I needed that,” I said while wiping the tears of joy from my eyes.
Brock just looked at us like we were the ones getting on his nerves. He grumbled, “I can’t wait to get away from you guys,” before returning his attention back to the stove.
“I wonder what’s taking Roger so long?” Sarah inquired.
“Who knows, maybe he’s plotting his next kill,” I told her.
“I bet he’s back there feasting on her blood.”
“Yeah. I wouldn’t put it past him.”
We stared at each other for a moment in shock. The thought of him tearing her body apart was the image nightmares were made of.
“You know what I don’t get,” Brock said while fidgeting with the knobs to the stove.
“What’s that?” I asked, glad to have the thought of a vampire desecrating a corpse out of my mind.
“Why don’t more killers hide out in the woods?”
“What do you mean?”
“If I were the killer, or a killer for that matter, and the police were hot on my heels, I’d just pack up all my camping gear and hide out in the woods.”
“You really think it’s that simple?”
“Yeah. They’d never find you. The hardest part would be the hike. I mean, obviously, you wouldn’t want to hide out anywhere near where you live.”
“Looks like you’ve got it all figured out.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Heh, I think you already know.”
“Dude. I swear I’m not the killer. Trust me on that. If I was the killer, you’d be the first person on my wish list, hero-boy.”
Roger entered the picture before I could respond to Brock’s disturbing comment. He looked unnerved, like a prince who had been forced to take a cold bath. His eyes darted around the room. “Sorry I’m late,” he said breathlessly and messily, causing more than a few suspicious glances in his direction.
“It’s cool, you didn’t miss anything,” Sarah told him with a watchful eye of her own.
“Good. I’m glad I didn’t miss anything.”
“You ok, man?” I asked.
“Yeah. I just wanted to make sure we finished today’s task before it was too late.”
Brock glanced at me for a second time. So, it wasn’t just me. What he said, well not only what he said, but how he said it, and how he was acting was strange. Why Brock, with his cavalier approach to anything and everything. I just knew he was going to be the one who said what we were all thinking. He paused; some might even say hesitated over the words instead.
When I saw this, I went on ahead and said it, “What do you mean by, ‘Before it’s too late?’”
“Um. Nothing.”
“You sure?” I asked.
“Yes. Why the odd stares?”
“I don’t know, man. You sure were back there for a long time,” Brock chimed in.
“You’re free to go see for yourself. Just because I’m a vampire doesn’t mean I’m not indifferent to my surroundings,” Roger expressed with a look of injury.
“Ignore Brock,” I told him.
“That’s easy to do,” he replied.
“Turncoat,” Brock muttered out.
“Whatever,” I muttered back.
“Shall we begin?” Roger asked.
“I couldn’t care less about those stupid cards,” Brock said before turning his back to us.
Roger raised the object of his ire and told him, “Careful how you speak. I’m sure they’re not giving us these just to be facetious. I know elites. There’s always a reason behind the things they do.”
“Whatever, just read the thing,” Brock grumbled before returning to his original, obviously more important task of trying to figure out how to light the stove. It seemed he had progressed a bit because now, instead of looking dumb, he was looking for a lighter.
“Hey, Brock, you sure you don’t feel like joining us?” I asked him facetiously.
“Dude. Go away. I can hear you guys just fine from over here,” he protested after noticing he was the only one not at the kitchen table.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” I said.
“Dude. I’m good. Screw that stupid nonsense. You guys want omelets or not?”
“So much for being a team player,” I said while gesturing for Roger to begin.
He thanked me for some reason, pulled the card from the envelope, and stared blankly at it. I was about to ask if everything was alright, but then he spoke, just in the nick of time: “Task 3: Ok. So, it’s a scripture number. From the Bible no less. All it says is James 2:19.”
He flipped the card around to show us, including Brock, just to prove that he wasn’t lying. As he was doing so, I glanced around the room and asked if anyone saw a Bible laying around.
“There’s one on the table in the rec room,” Brock quickly replied.
“Huh? There is?” I asked.
“Yeah, you had it the other day, dumbass.”
“Oh yeah, that’s right,” I huffed out.
“It’s fine, we all have our moments,” Sarah said while smiling at me as if I were an adorable pet.
“Can you grab it for me?” I sheepishly asked.
“Ew! No way! I’m not touching that thing.”
“Teenagers,” Roger muttered with an eyeroll to die for. “Ahh. How I miss the days of sweet levity and naiveté. Alas, we must all grow old, even us poor vampires.”
Her comment surprised me, but I figured it was just a phase or something. I remember my sister having a weird, but similar anti-religious phase when she was around her age. She styled herself as ‘irreligious.’ I used to tease her and restyle her as ‘emo.’ Ooh wee, she would get real hateful whenever I called her that. I’m talking vengeful little devil. Just thinking about triggering her was reminiscent bliss. God. I miss her. I miss her so much. I had to get out of here so I could see her again.
“Fine, I’ll get it,” Roger announced.
“Wait. I thought vampires couldn’t touch the Bible?” Sarah asked.
“This isn’t the movies, sweetie,” he said with an amused smirk.
“I never said it was,” she grumbled rebelliously under her breath.
I laughed under my breath and told her, “You’ve got to learn how to let stuff roll off your back.”
She frowned a bit, but I could tell my words gave her something to ruminate over. Hopefully with enough meditation they’d germinate into an idea.
Roger returned, Bible in hand, and dropped it on the table. When he did this, Sarah jumped. Roger and Sarah exchanged hostile glances. This turned into a brief standoff—staring contest would probably be a better description for it. Not wanting their childish behavior to last any longer, I grabbed the Bible and began thumbing through it until I found the scripture in question:
“You believe that there is one God. Good! Even the demons believe that—and shudder.” (James 2:19 NIV)
“Humph. That’s odd,” Sarah said.
“It is indeed, but I think I might have a theory,” Roger stated while studying her.
“Theory about what?” I asked.
“How the scripture relates.”
“Good. Because I have no clue,” I said while looking over at Sarah.
She curled up in her chair and said, “So cold.”
Roger continued to study her. Here he goes again, formulating some wild theory about how she was responsible for all the mayhem. I’m not stupid, I knew she could be the killer. I also knew I was biased because of the collection of sentiments I wore on my sleeve for my sister.
“Hey, Roger, let me borrow your lighter for a second,” Brock’s shrill interruption snapped Roger and me out of our little mental game of chess.
Roger rustled through his pockets before walking over and handing him a lighter.
“Thanks,” Brock said in a very untrusting tone and expression to match. He examined the lighter just to make sure it wasn’t rigged.
“You’re welcome,” Roger winked.
“You can go, I’ll return your precious lighter in one piece unless it’s boobytrapped.”
“It’s an antique. I won it at a party in a game of... never mind,” he said before twirling around and making his way back over to us. “Now where were we?”
“Eh. You were about to tell us what the scripture means,” I reminded him.
“Ok. So—” Roger paused and even jumped a bit when Brock lifted the heavy metal cover to the stove. He glared at him like prey. His look... It stabbed into his thoughts from across the room like a pair of imaginary fangs.
Without even looking back, Brock said, “Sorry! It’s the only way I can get to the burner!”
Roger rolled his eyes before groaning. The clicking and banging sounds Brock made must have been annoying to his vampire senses because it really didn’t bother me all that much. Roger raised his hand but before he could speak, he sighed in frustration. His grand conspiracy was thwarted a second time by Brock’s incessant tinkering.
“Just try to ignore him,” I said.
“I can’t.”
“Brock!” I shouted.
“What’s up?”
“Knock it off!”
“I’m almost finished.”
“Ugh. Hurry up!”
He closed the cover which made a loud crashing noise. This startled Roger, which made me and Sarah chortle. I looked over at Brock and saw a big grin on his face. Yup. He had slammed the cover on purpose just to irk the very irksome Roger. He turned the dial all the way up on one of the burners, brought the lighter to it, and flicked it once it was close to the gas vent. “Got it!” he exclaimed after succeeding on the first try. Then he added, “What did I tell you guys? Nothing comes before a bodybuilder and breakfast!”
“You never said that,” I told him.
“Hater,” he grumbled under his breath.
“Yay! Omelets for all!” Sarah cheered.
“I don’t know, Sarah. Maybe he’s not so bad of a guy after all,” I told her with a sarcastic smile.
“Whatever. It wasn’t that hard. The gas line was off. All I had to do was turn it back on. Tch, what a waste of time,” he grumbled in vexation.
“Do you guys want to hear my theory or not?” Roger asked.
“Not really,” Sarah moaned.
“Yeah. Not really,” Brock seconded.
“The floor is yours,” I said with a smirk.
“I’m glad you find this amusing. You shouldn’t because it’s about your evil little minion.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
He pointed at Sarah. But before his lying mouth could wobble together a tale for the ages, we were interrupted by a loud clang and a guttural cry. It was a yelp that oozed with pain and misfortune. We all whipped our heads around and saw Brock engulfed in flames.
It was... it was terrible. The thought... the smell... the sight of him wildly and hopeless flailing about made me flush with fear and anxiety. I jumped from my chair and looked for something—anything to put out the flames! His cries for help did little to aid in his salvation and so much to aid in the chaos and confusion that ensued.
He must’ve cried out to God half a dozen times. Death by fire was slow, much slower than the movies portrayed. He collapsed to his knees like a fallen angel who had been christened by hellfire for the very first time. The agony of it all must’ve been too much for his soul to take. The hellish glint in his eyes, right before his soul vacated his body, was one I’ll never forget.
I took a step back and let his body fall to the floor. There was a soft thud and hard crunch when his body reached its ignoble destination. Skin and clothes baked and crackled as his dead body simmered like a hog that had been charred over a roasting pit.
“What do we do?” Sarah cried out.
“Ok, everyone just stay calm!” I exclaimed in vain.
“Screw this!” Roger said before heading over to the toolbox near the entryway.
“Hey! What’re you doing?” I asked.
“I know what’s going on!” he shouted back.
I looked over at a teary-eyed Sarah and asked if she had any idea what he was talking about.
“How should I know?” she cried out.
“How the hell did this happen?” I mumbled to myself.
“It’s Roger! He’s the killer!”
“No! No, it can’t be.”
“Please! You have to believe me! He was using Roger’s lighter and now he’s dead!”
Roger marched towards us, shouting, “Shut up! Just shut up already! Enough with the lies, devil! I’m sick of your games! I know who you are!”
“Woah, woah, woah, what are you doing with that hammer?” I asked before quickly hopping in front of Sarah, to protect her from this maniac. “It’s ok, just stay behind me. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, I promise,” I told her without thinking.
“I’m not after you!” he sneered.
“Dude! What are you doing! Are you the killer? I should’ve known it was a vampire!”
“I said shut up!” he shrieked. Pure rage was in his eyes. I could tell just by looking at him that he had turned. This was bad. There was no way I could possibly take him on. His wild grin said as much. I could see the tip of his fangs peeking from his mouth. He looked more like a crazed animal in the dim light than a being that could be rationalize with.
“You can’t win,” he sneered and snickered.
I backed away from Brock’s grilled body, pushing Sarah back with me. The whole time I was pleading with Roger, “Hold on, man, let’s talk.”
“Get out of my way! Now!” he yelled and snarled while tightening his grip on the hammer.
“What the hell are you doing man! Were you really the killer this whole time?”
“Of course not! It was her I tell you! Can’t you see?!... No, no that’s right, you can’t! Ha! You don’t know. You’re not a vampire!”
“Roger, snap out of it, man! You’re not making any sense!” I exclaimed, hoping my words would be enough to convince him that he was mad.
“Ha, ha, ha! I should’ve known but I didn’t want to believe it! I thought it was legend. You have to be in the know to know, you know,” he cackled madly. “That’s what all those parties were about! That’s what all those strange rituals revolved around. So, it is true, you are real?!”
I looked back at Sarah and saw her staring coldly at Roger. She said nothing. I had no idea what this lunatic was talking about. I suppose we all handled stress differently, but killing an innocent girl was not the answer. I hated vampires. A vampire was the reason I was here in the first place! Rage began to take over as I thought more and more about my sister.
“Take one more step and—"
“And what? You’ll kill me?” he asked.
“I-I don’t know. All I know is that I won’t let you lay a finger on the girl, you hear me!”
“You humans... your reaction to realizing the futility and inevitably of your demise at the hands of something bred to hunt you down like the filthy dogs you are is a thing to behold.”
“Sarah, run!” I cried out.
“Where am I supposed to go?”
“I don’t know. Just run!”
“Enough! If I have to go through you to get to her, I will!” he hollered while raising the hammer and charging headlong.
I closed my eyes and raised my arms in front of me. This was it. I was about to be some mealy snack for a vampire. I embraced my fate. Knowing there was nothing I could do to stop him. At least I’ll die doing what I knew to be the right thing, I thought. Just when I thought it was over, a funny thing happened. His assault never came. When I opened my eyes, I saw him standing there. It was like he was stuck in place, prevented from moving by some unseen force. I welcomed the miracle as a sign from God. Maybe he did exist? Maybe this was my chance to make it out alive all thanks to the Divine Creator.
It was odd to see fear in the eyes of my predator. What was he doing? Why was he afraid? I glanced back and saw Sarah standing there with her arm raised towards him. Was my mind playing tricks on me? Had she really stopped him dead in his tracks with the raising of a hand? I... I didn’t know what to think. Bearing witness to this made me question everything I knew. He thrashed, rattled, and snarled wildly, like a wolf caught in a bear trap.
“Help me!” Roger screamed.
“Kill him!” Sarah demanded.
“What? No! No!” I exclaimed.
“Do it before it’s too late! I won’t be able to hold him for much longer!”
“Who—who are you?” I asked.
“That’s not important! Take the hammer and strike him with it! Hurry!”
“No! I-I can’t!”
“I thought you wanted to save me?”
“I-I do...”
“Then do it! Please!”
“O-Ok...” I muttered while slowly and cautiously approaching Roger. My hands trembled as I pried the hammer from his sweaty clutch.
He looked me dead in the eyes and warned me not to do it. His warning gave me pause. I thought about sparing him, but I didn’t want him to hurt Sarah.
I unleashed all the anger and pain that was inside me in a flurry of pitiless blows upon my wretched foe. His sorrowful throes and mournful gurgles did nothing but fuel me with more bitterness. This was for my sister! This was for all the hurt you had caused my mother and father! Her suffering nearly destroyed us! How dare you! “Take this! Take that! Die, you rotten vampire! Burn in misery with the rest of your twisted, perverse kin!”
I watched in awe as his body turned to ashes. All that was left was the sick memory of my twisted deeds. When I turned around, I saw her. She... She looked so beautiful. Tears slipped from my eyes. I-I couldn’t find the words. Only thing I could contemplate was how grateful I was to see her one last time.
“You did it, Josh! You killed him!”
“I-I can’t believe it’s you.”
“I’m so proud of you!”
“I-I don’t know. I-I didn’t—"
“It’s okay. I’m here now.”
“Is that really you?”
“Of course, it’s me, dogface.”
“I wanna go home.”
“Pfft. You’re such a killjoy.”
“I love you, sis.”
“Aw. I love you too.”
I gripped her hand when she placed it against the side of my face. It felt so real, too real to be a lie or a dream. She was even wearing the ring I had given her on Halloween. It’s a long story. What I thought was a joke turned out to be her favorite piece of jewelry.
“May I ask a favor, dear brother?”
“Yes, I’ll do anything you want.”
“Anything?” she asked with a smile.
“Yes, of course. Anything.”
“This might hurt.”
“I don’t care.”
“Bash your head in with the hammer. Do it for me, and we can go home and see mom and dad.”
“Ok. Will it be just like old times?”
“Yes, I promise.”
I arched the hammer above my head and with a crooked smile served up, “Ok. Wish me luck.”
“Good luck, dogface,” she giggled.
The first blow didn’t even hurt or make me so much as flinch. The second and third weren’t so bad either. I did feel a bit of pressure, but that’s about it. The fourth tingled, but only a pinch. The fifth and sixth were the best and worst pain of my life. Crunching and grinding followed by a short seizure accompanied the seventh and eighth blow. She egged me on, giving me the strength to bash my skull in for a ninth time. My fingers started to twitch, causing the hammer to slip from my grasp.
Blood and stringy grey fluid oozed from my head and ears. My mouth twisted unnaturally when I tried to speak. The words wilted away with every writhe and grunt. My head was a jumbled, fractured, pulpy mess of bone fragments and empty euphoric haze. No matter how hard I tried to tell her I was ready to depart, the words just wouldn’t slip from the sticky, syrupy maze that was my mouth.
Great. My vision was starting to fail me. Reality flickered and faded like an odd reoccurring dream. I saw her snap her fingers, or did I? When she did or didn’t, the emergency lights and sirens took over. The blaring rang violently in my ears. The red strobes flashed wildly, wreaking havoc on what was left of my visual cortex.
I looked around in a panic. The reality of what had happened suddenly dawned on me. It wasn’t my sister! No! No! No! God No! It was Sarah? How? Why? The pain, oh the how the pain washed over me like a waterfall filled to the brim with razorblades. Blood oozed and bubbled from the cracks and fissures on my head. It was so painful. It was so hot and viscous like molten lava.
I coughed and choked on a rush of confusion. What little that was left of my senses had been completely overtaken by the darkness. To have my life end like this, in such fear and agony. It was so cruel and unfair! Was there no justice? If there was a God, where was he? This was my last thought. A miserable one, I know. What was left of my very existence slipped away. I... I heard her... Her words were the most painful part of it all:
“Aw. Poor Joshua. Sorry for mesmerizing you. I thought it would’ve been better this way. I guess not. I guess it was cruel to pretend to be your sister like that. Oh well. You humans and your strange emotions. I see why God finds you filthy beasts so fascinating.”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 5: Hindsight
The doors to the bunker crept open, causing the entire underground shelter to tremble. Sarah skipped down the dark hall and made her way towards the elevator. She entered the code and hopped on, whistling dixie the whole time as if her psychotic deeds were an afterthought.
She quickly made her way to the ground floor. The two acolytes guarding the entrance into HQ stepped aside. She joyfully skipped through the lobby, and playfully waved at the camera above the door leading into the command center. The facial recognition system verified who she was and allowed her access into what was possibly one of the most esoteric rooms above ground.
Inside were countless monitors, elaborate lab equipment, fancy computers, servers, and a fleet of technicians working frantically to maintain it all while simultaneously finalizing this year’s results on what had been deemed the Endgame Trials, by the Department of Paranormal Investigations.
Sarah ignored the fearful glances from scientists and acolytes who had heard the rumors of her return from the pits of Hell. She ignored the blank looks of confusion and dismay, as if a fate of hardship and everlasting torment had been a walk in the park. She skipped and hymned her way into the belly of the room. Her destination only made clear after she had reached the mysterious puppet master behind the first annual Adventure Games.
Seated in the middle of all the maddens was the man, or should I say fallen angel himself. The one who secretly pulled the strings and had thus far put on such a striking performance. He stared deeply into her eyes yet said nothing. Grim silence was something the few who knew him, knew all too well.
His black hair was slicked back and greased. His velvet tie, pinstriped suit, gold timepiece, and black cufflinks, made him look like a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He was tall and cast a very imposing presence. He grabbed a crystal decanter and filled two glasses about a third of the way with whiskey.
Sarah sat down across from him and said, “What an unpleasant surprise. I wasn’t expecting to see you here. I thought you would’ve been busy doing stuff only you do.”
“Such as?” he smoothly asked.
“Whispering into the president’s ear.”
He handed her one of the glasses before mentioning, “Intelligence is my department.”
“I know. I’m not stupid.”
“Excellent,” was all he said.
“How are you, Lord Haven?”
“Wonderful. And you?”
“Nice and full, from the games.”
“I figured you’d say that.”
“So, where is this rising star you wanted me to meet?” she asked while looking around.
“Before you ask. The answer is no. She’s not the next antichrist. Far from it.”
“Ugh. How many of those have we had?”
“Hah. That’s a loaded question.”
“Some things will never change,” she sighed.
“To our credit, we did rethink the whole process after Hitler. This new candidate, I have to admit, he’s got a lot of potential,” Lord Haven mentioned.
“Interesting. Tell me more. You know how slow news travels in Hell. Now that I’m back on earth, I’m trying to catch up on everything I missed.”
“We’ll have all the time in the world to catch you up to speed,” he said before taking a sip of whiskey. Then he turned and signaled for one of the lab assistants before politely asking the gentleman to, “Fetch Agent Harris for me if isn’t too much trouble.”
Sarah took a sip. She nearly spat the whiskey all over his executive desk. The sturdy antique stuck out in what was otherwise a modern setting. This small addition to what was otherwise rather stale and sterile décor was enough to quietly demonstrated his power and panache.
Lord Haven studied his old friend for a moment. Then he said, “Hope it wasn’t too stiff.”
“Dear devil! How do you drink this stuff? It was stiff alright. Stiff like an angel with a weighty stone! Seriously, how do you manage?”
“If you can get used to Hell, you can get used to anything. I prefer scotch. Oh, and the richer the expense the finer the flavor.”
“Where is my beloved, Jurael?”
“Busy. He sends his regards.”
“But he swore he’d be here.”
“I know. It’s a long story. Lyrael ordered him to begin the unholy Sacrament of Fire.”
“So, it’s true. His son passed the first test. Which must mean he defeated Jurael? Really? A vampire that strong? I find it hard to believe.”
“I was skeptical at first, considering the many setbacks we’ve had. If it helps, the fight was far from equal. He was afforded a few allies. Even with help, they barely managed to win. But a win against one of us is a win, no less. I must say. It was wise of him to tie his blood with a son. We’ve already taken over the world. Now it’s only a matter of time before we find a more, economical approach to unleashing our forces from the very bowels of Hell.”
Before Sarah could respond, the agent Lord Haven had summoned came into view. Agent Michelle Harris, being the beautiful workaholic she was, seemed a bit jittery and jolted at being pulled from her work.
The much older, more experienced, Agent Adams had accompanied her. He was more relaxed. He hadn’t been doing much of anything, besides monitoring the hidden cameras in Bunker 17, sniffing for clues only his wrinkled nose could discover. He took a big hit from his vape pen before letting out a healthy sized cloud.
Agent Harris tore her eyes away from her clipboard and glared at him. You’d think she’d be used to his addiction by now. She was about to tell him about himself, but when she looked over and saw who was sitting across from Lord Haven, she was too thunderstruck to speak.
Like magic, her annoyed demeaner was replaced with a rush of anxiety and anticipation. She fumbled around with her clipboard, nearly dropping it, while holding out a shaky hand for the lady to shake.
She had done her homework and knew that this woman’s youthful appearance hid a monster that had seen and done the unfathomable. She brought literal life and meaning to the phrase “going to hell and back.” Only her journey was more electric and had left a trail of bones upon the darkened highway to Hell.
“Michelle, this is Sarah,” Lord Haven said.
“Pleasure to meet,” Michelle stumbled and stuttered.
“Aw. Isn’t that cute, you’re afraid of me. Don’t worry we’re on the same team,” Sarah said while making kissy faces as if Michelle was an adorable puppy.
“Uh, sorry. I-I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon after... you know—the experiment.”
“Oh, so you’re one of those beings who always needs to feel in control. Me catching you off guard didn’t give you time to prepare for our encounter.”
“Uh. I don’t know how to answer that.”
Adams chimed in, introducing another element, “I’m surprised you followed the rules.”
“Excuse me?” Sarah said a bit incredulous by his dry tone and crude insinuation.
Agent Adams returned her scowl. He took a hit from his vape pen and just stood there for a moment. The two having something of a little stare off. Revealing or reliving with their eyes and not with their words, touchy history, and painful, unsettled business.
He let out a hefty cloud before explaining, “You voted for yourself. I’m surprised.”
“Why are you surprised?” she asked.
“It’s not like you to follow rules.”
She smirked wickedly. “Are you impressed?”
“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t.”
“Are you impressed by the outcome, as well?”
“No. The likelihood of humans working in their best interest is slim to none.”
“Wait, is that what this experiment was about?” Michelle sheepishly asked.
“Wow. They really don’t tell you much of anything, do they?” Sarah chuckled.
Michelle ignored her comment but hesitated. Her grip on the clipboard was a bit firmer than usual. A few odd stares later, she worked up the courage to say, “May I ask a question about the project?”
“Shoot,” Sarah grinned.
“What if the subjects would have voted correctly? Hypothetically speaking, of course. What would you have done if the humans and vampires would have worked together?”
She shrugged. “Then I would have kept my word and let them live.”
“Really?”
“Yes! I’m so not a monster, contrary to what everyone thinks. I’m sweet and innocent and yeah... I probably would have devoured them—who am I kidding. Especially the yummy vampires. Their blood is to die for. Human blood, not so much. It’s too watery and irony and is irony a word? I mean, I know it’s a word and all, but is it the right word for the job? Tch! Human nomenclature is so strange. It’s something I’ll never get used to.”
Lord Haven chimed in. But before doing so, he kicked his feet up on the desk. His presence was like a cold chill that never left the room. His eyes felt even colder and darker than usual. Here was a fallen angel who stood somewhere between shadow and light. He was as wise and complicated as the scotch that swirled in his glass. Speaking of which, he finished his drink, and held the empty, sparkling glass in front of him.
“Cooperation was never in the cards. The human ego is much too elegant and fragile. All it takes is the right push to plant the seed of curiosity into your mind. Ideas take time to bloom. That’s where I come in. That’s when a trick of the light blossoms into reality.”
The glass turned black when he waved his hand across it. Not just any black. A deep, shifting darkness that was soft on the eyes and intricate on the mind. The glimmering glass held its original quality and artistry. He studied his work while continuing to talk down on humanity as well as their bitter arrangement with vampires:
“You see. There is a certain brilliance to power. An éclat behind the curtains. It’s not easy, turning harden followers away from God, but the trick, you see. The trick isn’t sleight of hand but sleight of word. Sorcery to be exact. Spells if I’m being technical. You use the weaker more flexible against the harder more inflexible. It takes time but with enough patients and practice the impossible becomes possible. Here. See for yourself,” he said before handing Michelle the glass.
She stared at it, completely mesmerized, not only by his handiwork but the maze of ideas running around in her head. “Was that the purpose of all this?” she asked without pulling her eyes from the glass.
Agent Adams answered her question. He could’ve been talking to a brick wall because she wasn’t paying any attention. “Experiment 4470. Part of Project 07, or the Endgame Trials. Officially it is a way to stress test G-HUN. Understand, the individuals forced to live in the underground network will be under a great deal of stress. I think we’ve gleamed a lot from our initial trial. What do you think, Lord Haven?”
Lord Haven said nothing. His eyes as well as his mind were focused on something not of this world. He was prone to random bouts of deep reflection. Breaking him out of meditation could cost you your life.
Knowing this, Agent Adams turned his attention to Sarah. She stared back at him as if she had murder on the mind. The two continued to exchange unpleasantries as he addressed Agent Harris’ concerns:
“That’s the official reason anyway. The real reason is a bit more tricker to nail down. Oh, and to avoid politics, we kept it on a need-to-know basis. You see, we already know there’s no hope for humanity. We’ll never come together to defeat the ‘common enemy’ unless the common enemy is waving around a giant swastika. We wanted to see how well humans and vampires would do and interact when it came to stopping the unseen enemy. We’ll use the data to adjust our strategy for the end times accordingly.”
“What about Mr. Graham’s sister?” Michelle inquired.
“What about her?” Adams asked.
“She’s a vampire. She can’t go home.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of her,” Sarah stated with the most wicked of grins.
The End
For Now...

They're getting out of hand!