Unknown Existence

Lance Morgue…

I woke up a few hours after meeting with the Angel of Death. All of a sudden I could get a whif of wet earth after rain and freshly cut grass… Some distant memory was trying to breathe out of the water of my thoughts… The smells and the aura were familiar, but I was yet unable to determine where and when I felt like that before…
Focusing on my attempts to place the smells, I failed miserably to notice the elephant in the room; two official looking men, minus the sunglasses you could never go wrong calling them Men In Black.
“Good morning, Mr Morgue. I am agent Stanbie and with me I have agent Malone. We are from CCBI, sorta FBI but for cold cases.”
My mind was still fogged by the painkillers that I had apparently been loaded with. What was starting inside me as a raging blurt, left my throat more or less like a croak… “With all due respect gentlemen, my case seems to be freshly ripe so I do not see the point of you being here.”
“Cold cases stay dormant until there is another doorway opened and that doorway is you.”
“I do not follow…”
“In 1865 your great grandfather, Alexander Morgue opened the first corpse storage facility in San Francisco. The purpose of it was to ensure that the deceased was already dead before the burial. Then in 1878 he decided to open his first funeral home and franchised his last name to each corpse holding facility. Therefore all those rooms are called morgue today. By 1920 another enterpreneur by the name of Kristopulos started buying random funeral homes around the country and rebranding them to UDCC or United Death Care Corporation. He also tried to buy out your great grandfather on the home and on the franchise earnings but he refused to sell. Then he disappeared shortly after that. In the file is noted as November 1922. Every member of the Morgue bloodline has been met by a certain death, one way or the other. You are the last one of the bloodline.” Malone said proud of his history lesson. What agent Malone told me, hit me really hard. My mom always tried to protect me when I was young. I rarely had any friends and spent most of the time inside. But then, when I was 13 all of the sudden she went out for groceries and never came back. Oh hell no! That smell, wet earth after rain and freshly cut grass. About three says after mom disappeared. Son of a bitch! It was a sign. Death was trying to tell me something. Maybe trying to comfort me that everything would turn out ok. “How does it relate to me being assaulted today though?” I was eager for answers now, more than eager. “The individual that stabbed you today is Ray Kristopulos, the grandson of George. We have been watching him for quite some time. The feud between families still runs high.”
“Obviously,” i said as i pointed at my mauled gaze wrapped head. “Did you ever think about alerting me about his plan?”
“Last time we made contact with Ray, he was in San Francisco. Until we were alerted today.”
“So now you nailed the son of the bitch. How many life sentences is he looking at?” Although the narcotics were wearing off, hearing the good news that a cold hearted malicious killer was in custody, warmed my heart.
“A bit to late for that. You already killed him.” Stanby’s face was full of satisfaction.
“Excuse me?” I was pretty sure that the look on my face was a mix of dumbfound and bewilderment.
“Ray suffered a pulmonary arrest due to several precise blows crushing his Adam’s apple. The thing that puzzles us is where did you learn the trick.” Stanbie had crossed his arms over his chest, looking me deep into my eyes, deep into my soul.
“Listen, agents. All i did was throw blind punches around. Some of them landed on flesh, some in the air.” My voice was shaking followed by my hands. Honestly i was shitting bricks. “I can see Murphy’s law throwing the book at me gents. How many years am I looking at?”
Both agents started chuckling, then it progressed to a fully blown belly laugh. Then agent Malone spoke. ” Funny thing is we do not exist in the eye of the public. Therefore, this conversation is not being had. Although, the agency still has an obligation to the Morgue family to uphold the contract.”
“How would you feel if we told you that based on the wealth and money accrued through the last seventy years, you are a very rich man?” agent Stanbie cocked his chin up. “The only stipulation is that you need to continue Alexander’s legacy.”
“Wait a minute.” I said condused. “You mean to keep the feud going?”
Malone chuckled. “Not that. You need to operate your own funeral home. Can you work with the dead?”
“Well, to be honest. Anytime I pass by a home or a hearse I feel something pulling me… It is so weird.”
“That’s is a calling. Pretty good. We depart in a couple of hours for our medical and training facility.” Stanbie said decisively. “You just take a nap. You will need it for the journey.”
“A journey?” I was confused… how far would that be?
“Just take a nap. Shhhhhh.

After what felt like an eternity I woke up to strange vibrations, dimmed overhead lights riding low to my face and an oval window. “Whoa!!! What the hell?”
“Mr Morgue, you finally woke up.” Stanbie was more cheerful than ever. “Welcome to Area 51. Thanks to your great grandfather being a member of the US Elite Society, you are privileged to get the best treatment, unknown to the medical facilities outside of the fence.”
“You mean I am just becoming a lab rat?” In the mean time it got me thinking. “What else did that old bag had gotten himself into.”
“Absolutely not. The procedure that we have in store for you today is just a gene alternation. It is called BEAST. Stands for Bio Enhancing the Arch of Space and Time. We basically took the alien technology that is responsible for the bending of time that enables them for swift intergalactic travel and decided to put it in a gene. With that technology put in place, whatever happens to you, it’s just a minor inconvenience because your body will rebuild it’s self.” Whether you get shot, stabbed, battered with flame thrower, you get back to normal in 30 seconds tops. Also the pain tolerance goes high.”
While Stanbie was explaining me that strange technology that made me feel like the T-1000 from Terminator 2, i never failed to notice the jet’s door being opened and among the couple of guys in medical scrubs waiting for me in the tarmac, there were two soldiers of honor and three creatures no more than 4 feet tall dressed in gray robes. “Hey nice costume.” I pointed to one of them with my healthy hand.
Last thing I remember before blacking out was little fists against my chin and chest…

Malone….

“Hey, nice costume”. Even though Mr Morgue comes off as arrogant and disrespectful 80% of the time, I truly loved that line. Too bad our Andromedan friends have a short fuse. Oh Boy! They pounded at him like a battering ram. Unconscious on a cold steel table, he lays in wait. The medical team guys are not reviving him on purpose. They are waiting for the Andromedans to prepare the BEAST injection. You see Mr Morgue is a rare specimen. The bloodline he hails from, runs pure from Balkan Mountain Ranges. They are known for their ability to stay alert, be great fighters, quick learners and hot headed motherfuckers. Exactly what Beast progam needs. When the program was setup, it was meant to breed a class of vigilante individuals. Rare humans programmed to work close with law enforcement, but far enough as not to be detected. Why send a SWAT team into a hostage situation, when you can send one raggedy dressed guy armed with willpower, impeccable physical strength and immortality to take down the perp? And the said perp wouldn’t even know what hit them. Makes sense to you? Because it does to Andromedans.

Lance Morgue…

I suddenly woke up from an intense heat. Light were hurting my eyes which felt like popping out of their sockets; the veins were bulding and mapping my arms; my hearing intensified and I could hear every sound and noise being made from a wider perimeter range than the lab room they had me in.
Then all of the sudden a calm washed over me, my arms went back to normal and I noticed that I was laying naked on a cold steel table. To my surprise i could feel no pain and my damaged hand was properly healed and moving flawlessly. Then all of the sudden the room exploded into an intense applause.
“Mr Morgue. Congratulations on making it into the Beast program.” Malone was standing to my right. Next to him one of the creatures that had beaten the shit out of me. “I want to introduce to you Arrgahal. He hails from Andromeda galaxy and he will brief you on everything and will answer all of the questions that you might have.”

Advertisements
Featured

How I met Death… (Lance Morgue beginning.)

It was a beautiful and not so cold Sunday afternoon… I woke up to the eye piercing of sunlight coming in through the Victorian shades of my town home. It’s funny how in the summer time the noon sun is hotter and as it hangs way overhead, the light is proportioned uniformly all around the time zone. Winter time though, it is a totally different aspect. The angle that it hits the Earth with its’ rays works in strange ways. If you look towards the Sun, it pierces you right through your retina; if you look against it, then things seems dimmer… like a fading light….

After an exhilarating hot shower, I wrapped a towel around my waist and made my way to the kitchen. When I opened the door my eyes laid upon half a carton of eggs with a single shell; half a cup of milk and some wicked smelly summer sausages. “Street takeout it is, then.” I muttered to myself. 

I got dressed, retrieved my gym bag and my set of keys then made my four minute walk to the bus stop. Usually the Sunday buses are rare. Likely every one hour or so. Lucky me, the bus was approaching when I made the corner. The ride wasn’t so bad… the usual low income elderly and the unruly kids, dressed their best, returning from Sunday school. Once I arrived at the bus terminal, I ordered a hot dog with mayonaise. Yes it sounds really strange but I love my food dipped in mayo. A byproduct of eggs, it contributes to my protein intake… once food was ready, i grabbed the container and walked to the nearby park with the intention of enjoying a couple of chapters from one of my many favorite authors. This time it was Ghost Ship by Clive Cussler. I find Clive awesome because his novels, with their in depth description of the Earth’s oceanic borders take me on different sea tours without even stepping in a boat. After finding a bench that was totally splashed by sunrays, I started to munch and read. Lips coated with mayo and smacking my lips. I ain’t that much of a sloppy eater but this time it was obligatory. A college aged girl sitting on the bench across, her auburn hair playing with the wind over her eyes; kept giving me dirty looks for no apparent reason. Typical feminist, I should say. It has been official for some time now; feminists and I do not get along. Usually it is about their idiotic ideas and their use of the word “rape” more often than the number of mushrooms I can count after a thunderstorm. Speaking of that, my house is built on a forest hilltop… 

All of the sudden i felt an arm around my neck, then blows. Hard, cold blows centered mostly on top of my head… followed closely by warm liquid, fogging my eyes… In the middle of the turmoil i threw a couple of punches vectored towards the assumed position of my attacker. Sharp cuts on my left hand exposed bone and tendons…. then nothing… light begun to fade…

They say walk towards the light but all i could see was fog…. and a feeling of dizziness… then it got clear again… I was awake on my birth suit, bed set up on a forty-five degree angle, tied to machines that i didn’t even know they existed… like at my ankles there were two torniquets resembling a blood pressure sleeve, squeezing and releasing my ankles in a calculated rythm. At the foot of the bed, standing statue was the man himself, Death. His jaw shut in a relaxed manner kept starring at me. “Well?” I asked lifting my hands, palms up. “I would have taken you in a heartbeat, son. But your machism and foolishness into thinking and acting like a true action hero which I am pretty sure it is your everyday mentality, is forcing me to give you another chance… A chance to do bigger things.” “Are you even real?” I was still puzzled. I could feel it, he was the real deal, I still needed some convincing though. “Don’t push it, idiot” then he disappeared into thin air.post