Synopsis: Richard "Rick" Nocturne is a struggling journalist with a part-time gig as a feral vigilante. Bradford City is his home, but he's had to watch it go to the dogs as waves of rampant crime have seized the city in the absence of unified order. Rick's previous botched attempt at neutralizing one of the city's most heinous criminals, Giovani Imposerum ended in disaster, but this time he has an ace up his sleeve he's eager to use, and he can already feel it bubbling up under his skin.

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Midnight Rising

by K9Lupus

Rick hated cold coffee, but he hated cold cases even more.

Despite spending the past month compiling evidence and comparing witness testimony, the gathering of which was a feat in and of itself in the tight-lipped underbelly of Bradford City, Rick had grown no closer to piecing together Imposerum's current whereabouts. Any connections bridged together between his cohorts and the host of available arms dealers to facilitate his cytotoxic chemical agent smuggling ring across the American-Canadian border were generally loose and speculative at their best. Time was running out. Each passing day failing to find the crime syndicate leader again dampened hope into an increasingly fleeting luxury. The city couldn't afford another incident to take place on his watch.

The images of Rick's last meeting with Giovani Imposerum flashed before his eyes as he riffled through the stack of papers constituting the crime boss's file. Haunting screams of those he had failed to save grated against his ears, and the heated rush of the bullet ripping into his shoulder still caused the now healed over muscle there to twinge. Rick would not make the same mistakes a second time. He had been caught off guard then; his calculations were tossed out the door the moment Imposerum's goons slunk out from the shadows in their planned ambush. But tonight would be different. Rick could already feel the quiet trembles of the ace up his sleeve roiling within his body, yearning to be set free once again.

Rick forced down the last of his coffee, tidied up what his colleagues would refer to as his slovenly (in his eyes well-loved) desk at The Bradford Bulletin, and stashed Imposerum's hefty case file back into its place within the false shelf of the book case lining the outskirts of his cramped office. He wouldn't be needing it tonight. They say not to bring work home with you, and Rick was true to that philosophy as much as could be allowed in his private investigative work beneath his visage of editing articles for writers chomping at the bit for their “big break”, but bringing work to work was a kosher affair.

He flicked off his desk lamp, the final light still on through the willed madness of anyone wishing to be here at this hour, and sent the building into darkness save for the red, hazy glow of the exit lights. Down the stairs he descended. Rick's steps quietly echoed throughout the stairwell and left him with the silence of his thoughts. The twinges of the Other were already getting stronger. Short, rippling pulses flowed down the sweep of Rick's back and radiated out towards his sides like a filled subway car screeching to its stop and dispersing agitated citizens in every direction during rush hour. It was as if it too could sense the gravity of the situation they were in, and perhaps also delighted in the possibilities such danger would undoubtedly entail.

Months had passed since his encounter with the creatures, but each had left its bestial mark upon him to give rise to what he was today. The fact that Rick had survived the event still breathing was nothing short of a miracle, but miracles are only such born of hopeful perspective. With no cure or remedy in sight, he now bore the curse of their dual influences upon himself. Each ghastly filling of the midnight sun now called to the primal aspirations of his newly discovered hybrid nature until Rick was left with no choice except to submit to the will of the Other.

With a sigh, Rick briefly entertained the notion of a single restful night's sleep if his efforts tonight should prove successful. A fresh surge of electric feeling rolled up through his shoulders and caused him to draw his jet-black trench coat tighter around his body. Rick imagined the heavy material binding back the impending change, but all it served to do was remind him all the more of the growing tension forming within his muscles that were becoming warmer and warmer still. Rest would only be gifted to a job well done.

His home had taken a turn for the worse this past year. The sudden passing of beloved head chief Rolan was grieved by many, but not by all. New crime syndicate cells had become as widespread as the rats now, and just as elusive when attempted to be caught in the absence of Rolan's unifying words across city agencies. Even with his newfound abilities, Rick was still only one man with one part to play in the grand tussle for power left open in the void. He had always valued his cunning and intellect, but now his body could be joined towards that singular purpose of reducing the suffering he saw etched into the faces of the many citizens here.

*******

He finally reached the front door and stepped out into the concrete-jungle of Bradford City. The night was a dark one. A starless sky further marred by a cloak of heavy clouds rained down heavy droplets against the rims of Rick's glasses, obscuring his vision. He tilted his head up towards the sky and allowed more of the soothing water to wash over him, grateful for the cooling umber embrace of evening easing the vestiges of a fever boiling in his blood. He couldn't stand these scorching, dog days of summer. The night was always welcomed.

A far too tempting capitulation towards the growing presence of the Other surged in Rick's thoughts. If welcomed, he knew all too well the swirling mass of haze would give rise to the start of his changes, and he was not ready to crack open the dam just yet. Rick paused where he stood, allowed the muscle spasms to tighten his calves, then release themselves alongside his clenched breath. Rick loosened the crimson tie around his neck and undid the uppermost button on his white dress shirt. Once certain the wave had passed, his pace hastened into a brisk jog towards his destination.

Streetlights passed by him with their dim, flickering glows – light then dark, dark then light as the rest of the city swam within the bland, dreary, uniform gray. Rick's lively pace was unseen to all except the huddled mass of a homeless man curled against a street corner who gave off nothing more than a groan in his direction. He was a veritable ghost here, a body tossed within the sea of several million other bodies all living their lives to the best of their ability. Perhaps it was better that way. There were fewer paths to harm those who did not wish to be seen.

*******

The looming skyscraper piercing through the heart of downtown still inspired a profound sense of awe in Rick. Its mighty, rigid edges seemed to tower up into a breathless infinity that could captivate even the most affluent of patrons. A few office lights were still lit in scattered patches across its dark, metallic sheen, and gave the impression that the building was suffering from a burgeoning case of light-based acne.

Rick approached once his most recent muscle cramps in his feet had ceased, and proceeded through the revolving door to enter the building's vast, marble foyer. Burney the security guard, one of Rick's dearest friends and few allies who knew of the Other stood hunched over his desk with a crumpled magazine, the latest issue of The Bradford Bulletin clenched in his hand. His focus was resolute in his fierce combat with a nagging fruit fly flitting about his station. His hefty bottom swayed like a calculating cat as he prepared his impending strike. A moment of clarity, then execution as he wheeled his clenched fist down towards the desk. Muffled expletives followed the brown eruption of Burney's coffee cup spilling out every which way, a deep umber waterfall forming across the front of his station to the ground below. The fly soared up towards the rafters, safe and unharmed, its chaotic amusement satiated for the time being.

Burney looked up in time to catch the end of Rick's bemused grin as a flush of red tinged Burney's cheeks.

“Keeping the riff-raff out I see, 'ey Burney?” Rick chided, closing the gap between them. Rick's steps echoed against the polished walls of the large interior space. Burney stayed silent, fumbling for a roll of nearby paper towels to minimize any further collateral damage.

“Was it really necessary that you used the latest issue of the Bulletin for that? Not sure how I feel about my work being reduced to ineffective bug deterrent.”

“Don't worry Mr. Nocturne. I maintained good faith that the enclosed material was dense enough to make it far more suitable to be used as such.” Now it was Burney's turn to flash a grin as he looked up from the mess with his kind, gray-green eyes. “Good to see you old friend.”

“Great to see you too Burns,” Rick replied, then squeezed his eyes shut as a fresh round of spasms seized his legs rigid. A light sheen of sweat glistened off Rick's brow as he braced the smooth surface of the desk with curled fingers. It was to Burney's steadfast character that he scarcely furrowed his brows at the sudden display.

“I trust you'll have an easy transition and flight tonight,” Burney said, projecting confidence. His well-meaning intentions were betrayed, however, by a slight, nearly imperceptible sense of dread lurking in his gaze as he reached over to continue wiping away the majority of the coffee spill to an uneasy satisfaction.

“Much to do, and not enough time,” Rick answered, finally easing his tensed fingers off the edge of the desk.

“When is there ever? Best of luck to you. I'll unlock the rooftop elevator access.” Burney assured as he reached beneath his desk to flip a hidden switch beneath the bottom of his desk.

A red glow appeared above one of the far-off elevators tucked into the corner of the building. Rick patted Burney's shoulder and proceeded to the elevator, stepping into its polished, glass-lined walls with white marble accents to be carried up to the rooftop of the grand structure. As he neared the top, the blank darkness of the building gave way to the sharp relief of the city skyline. Higher and higher Rick went as he watched the city below him grow smaller and smaller still. He admired the chance to get a view like this even in such dire circumstances. Up here he could almost believe that Bradford City was an active, living cradle for the millions of lives nurtured here.

This was where the stars had wandered off to, he thought as the elevator quietly dinged and opened its doors on reaching its destination. He stepped back out into the world to greet his fate, the earthen walls of his mental fortitude staving back the change already cracking and crumbling in places to dust.

*******

The rain had slowed to scarcely a drizzle by the time Rick reached the rooftop. Several small pools of water had already collected in the gentle sags of concrete forming here. Then Rick peered up and saw the emerging face of the midnight sun. Its call was ceaseless and unyielding. The moon's light cloaked Rick's skin in a silvery glow as it tentatively peeked from behind the rounded edge of a drifting rain cloud. A pulsing rush coursed through his muscles, spearheading an exultant anticipation of what was to come next.

Rick peered over the edge of the roof towards the other grandiose buildings rising up to join their comrades within the heavens. The pale glow of their airplane signaling lights called to each other like lazy fireflies. From here he could make out the tan, rectangular rise of The Bradford Bulletin building, looking lowly and humble surrounded by its modern constructed neighbors. Somewhere in the neighborhood beyond was Rick's apartment, a well-loved, perfectly acceptable box to lay down and watch reruns of movies at the end of a long day in.

These streets and sidewalks, restaurants and corner stores, shopping malls and baseball stadiums had been Rick's world for as long as he could remember. When he was little, it was had been his building then, his castle of countless adventures, with his mother telling him not to wander off across the street to the neighbor's building to play, even though his best friend at the time had much better toys. When Rick decided on where to go for college, he chose to attend one of the local community colleges next to one of his favorite pizzerias. It was familiar to him. Safe. Even as his other friends had come and gone, he had stayed. Now the time for such a move away seemed infeasible. The roots of the city had meshed too deep in his daily affairs, and it would take a force far beyond himself to pull him away now.

It would be beneath these many lights that he would stand and fall one day. The backdrop of steel and will would be judge and witness to his glory, bolstering him, nourishing him as his nectar and his wine, with the constant threat of reversing course and plummeting back squarely to the cold reality that even he could only do so much.

Another warm surge roiled through Rick's spine, but this time he relaxed his breath, eased back his carefully constructed mental barriers, and allowed the sensations to trickle outward with free reign throughout his body. A faint, wispy smile crested the edges of his lips, and so Rick commenced his passage towards becoming the Other.

*******

Without his mental checks in place, Rick found that the twinges and spattering of warmth across his body had erupted into an uncontrolled wildfire that threatened to consume him entirely. He quickly worked off his clothes, having learned quite well from the awkward moments that followed after the second time he had transformed and been forced to wrap himself up in the outer lining of a discarded trash bag how valuable having a spare set of clothes to change back into come morning was. Rain cascaded down the valley of his shoulders and ran in meandering rivulets, cooling him as they coursed down to the small of his back. Relief flooded him. Then the spasms returned with a vengeance like no other.

The rounded muscles of Rick's shoulders bulged awkwardly beneath strained skin as new layers of compounding muscle willed themselves into being. The growth ran out in a triangular fashion from this central nexus along either arm and down the length of his spine with each vertebra popping and cracking as it stretched upward in a new, more flexible configuration. A short, fleshy nub of a developing, stiff tail pressed out from his spine's end. The flood of newfound strength was intoxicating, and Rick bared down into the discomfort to hasten the change's progress. The sooner this was over, the better.

Rick groaned as he doubled over and felt the array of new musculature surging from his back flex taut for the first time. His eyes squeezed shut as he breathed through clenched teeth while his transformation intensified at his feet. His arches lengthened and distorted themselves out into lithe bridges of carefully crafted sinew and flesh capable of storing an immense amount of energy with every stride. Long, bat-like talons tipped in curving claws juxtaposed the broad ends of his paw-like feet, both aspects of dual nature coming to be simultaneously in this way.

The air in Rick's lungs sucked out in a forced retreat as his chest barreled out. Then his heart stopped. Panic briefly saturated Rick's thoughts in the few seconds before his ribs expanded out to further accommodate the swell of massive, new lungs previously cramped in their human quarters. The thrum of his new, mighty heart resumed with vigor, and the already searing inferno across Rick's body swelled into a firestorm.

By now his hands were already morphing, his finger bones stretching and pulling like taffy inch by inch, then foot by foot until they commanded an awe-inspiring range. Fleshy membranes filled with a crossroads of veins and arteries filled the space between his newly formed bat-like appendages, and as he stretched his new wing arms up into the air, Rick could feel them catch the faintest waves of air flowing over the roof.

A new rush of feeling traveling divergently up his neck and through his legs forced Rick down to his knees, creating a splash of water that further dampened his discarded clothes. He was half-tempted to lay prone against the cool concrete entirely; anything to push away the heat of the change was welcomed right now. Rick's lanky neck and legs rippled with escalating brawn and fortitude as they expanded and reshaped themselves into wolf-like proportions.

The last untouched human sanctum of Rick's face then fell under siege by the emergent, dominating will of the Other. The heat sharpened to a spear's edge that pulled through his nose and jaw as they rocketed forward with the force of his broad, emergent muzzle. A deadly assortment of curved, jagged fangs and teeth replaced his unnecessary human teeth while pockets of gliding tendons and tight-packed muscle accumulated at the back of his jaw and up along his skull to fuel delivery of a devastating bite to unwitting adversaries.

The tips of Rick's ears crested, pulled out into widened, scooped ends capable of funneling and discerning even the most minuscule of sounds for miles around. Now Rick heard everyone and everything: cell phone calls, TV broadcasts, radio signals, scurrying rats in alleys and scavenging raccoons chattering amid piles of trash. His enhanced senses had opened up the world to him in a way the clinging vestiges of his humanity could not bare to process. The noise was ceaseless, unyielding in its constant, reverberating hum. Without action it threatened to submerge him, and so Rick braced his wings flat against the ground and voiced an all-encompassing roar to fight back against the onslaught to his senses.

Already he was losing the fight to the surfacing of his dominating, animal-like nature. Coils of textured feelings Rick had previously identified as heightened instincts wound their way through every sight and sound filtering into his brain. His inner voice softened, then eroded completely from existence in the surfacing of new systems to govern his actions. Rick's mind was not on autopilot, but a feeling kin to a weighted vote towards the actions his body would take now flowed into every each of his distorted, bestial form. It was so unlike the meticulous planning he was accustomed to. These unregulated reactions, strongly inclined towards violence even in protection unnerved him deep to his core.

Rick had become wary of trusting in the Other's propensity to respond before calculation, but he could not dismiss the aptitude of allowing his body to perform as it intended – to be a marvel unimpeded by his false sense of sovereignty. In the moments of most pressing need, Rick was reluctantly glad for its presence, because as he had learned from a multitude of cases from people on the edge of life and death that humans were far too capable of initiating their own demise in a split-second of doubt.

*******

The cooling effects over his body had vanished with the stopping of the sprinkling rain above, and so the final, fiery tendrils of transformation were experienced in their full intensity. A sprouting of lush, ebony fur pricked through Rick's skin, then flourished around his neck and shoulders like an inescapable mink fur wrap. Smaller patches of dark hair coated his skull and peppered his limbs until he lay huddled on the ground like a trembling shadow.

At sunrise, this new body along with his gained abilities would vanish until the following month. Somewhere in the back of Rick's mind he shoved away the thought this time his transformation would be different, that this time he would not return and be lost to the dual spiral of wolven and bat influences picking clean the last scraps of humanity from his bones. For tonight however, Rick allowed himself to abandon the last semblances of fear and reservation dwelling within him to embrace a new, even more frightening truth – that he as he was contained the power to enact the great changes he wished for himself and this city. In his transformation Rick had become an earthbound soul held aloft on wings of skin and a spirit unconquerable by any force lurking in the shadows, himself included.

Rick's labored breath rolled out of him like the give and pull of the tides along a rocky shore. His eyes slowly opened to reveal the stretch of his impossibly elongated, bony fingers and the sturdy, connective membrane woven between them. The searing blaze of heat that racketed his body had finally died down to wispy embers. The deed was done. His transformation, his lukewarm abandonment of his former humanity was now complete.

Rick noted that his change had proceeded more smoothly this time, but there was never any true sense of peace to be found in the stark, jarring slide of bone and muscle. His back and shoulders audibly cracked as he rolled forward to stretch the taut bulk of new, powerful flight muscles there. This shape was strong. It was far more capable of anything Rick could ever hope to accomplish in his human guise, and that was the part which scared him the most.

It was always at this moment where the tension first released and his senses started coming to into stunning clarity that a small part of him wondered why he always barricaded such resistance into welcoming the Other into its fruition. It would be so much easier to answer its primal, superhuman calling as it came, rather than mount a lousy defense he always lost; preparation meant nothing in the face of this insurmountable force. Trying to stop it was like trying to stop the flow of a raging river with a pail full of sand. But Rick knew somewhere in that act of resistance, no matter how futile, was the spark of his retained humanity. Even as alluring as this new shape had proven itself to be, he refused to let go completely.

Rick's gaze drifted up towards the moon, and he briefly studied its round, marred face before curling the broad ends of his paw-like talons forward, splashing a small pool of rainwater as he motioned to stand. The underlying sense of urgency behind the Other's freedom had been rekindled, and Rick was not keen on wasting this valuable opportunity to track down Imposerum. His huge body swayed from side to side until in a great, inhuman flourish he spread his enormous wings wide and steadied himself as still as a statue save for the rise and fall of his mighty chest.

A slight, cool breeze teased at the edges of Rick's wings and lightly tossed the clumps of thick, ebony fur draped across his back and neck. He stepped forward across the rooftop, making his way to a chain link fence that wrapped across the edge of the skyscraper. With a brief flex of his legs, Rick leapt up. He cleared the several-feet high barrier to land on the sleek, steel molding opposite it. The narrow stretch quickly terminated into a void of empty air below. Rick's toes curled tight over the edge, his stance confident and looming with his half withdrawn wing-arms on either side. From his perch high above the rest of the world, Rick absorbed the urban expanse below him.

They're like ants or bees, he thought as he watched vehicles all coursing about along roadways even at this late hour. He gazed at the vast, living arteries of the city's highway, and discerned the faint plume of smoke rising from the city's lungs. Bradford City was an imperfect place, but so was everywhere else, and it was in the mix of its flaws that Rick held tight the belief that the city's course could be changed by his actions towards repair.

His acute ears swiveled to filter through the thousands of ambient sounds towards those of greatest interest. With his eyes closed, Rick's mouth opened wide and loosed a series of shrill, rippling cries that rang out throughout the city below. The sound waves rang out for miles before returning and bombarding Rick's brain with a mental map of nearly the entire city. Unbeknownst to Rick, all across the city dogs of every shape and breed attended to the mysterious sounds that rippled through the air.

The amount of information he gathered when invoking his echolocation in such a manner still nearly drove him to madness, but it was necessary to pinpoint any new leads that would have otherwise subverted his more traditional methods of connecting the dots. To his dismay, he pieced together the implications of several crimes happening throughout the city: police were radioing in for backup for a botched arrest of a drunken hit and run, a mugger had cornered an elderly woman within an alley, and glass shattered around at the foot of a windowsill from a home invader slinking in by the cover of night. Rick screeched a frustrated growl from his place above it all. He could not be everywhere to help everyone. He never could.

In the mix of his scanning, Rick curiously stumbled across the sounds and shapes of two men meeting over at the eastern docks. One appeared to be rigid and immobile from the waist down, his legs bound together, while the other gloated over him at the edge of the water.

“Now, you'll do well to always remember that those who cross Mr. Imposerum are promptly dealt with. Although that won't be a worry of yours for very much longer.” the unbound man said with a cackling laugh as more muffled sounds were heard from the restrained individual.

Rick's golden eyes narrowed and he pitched himself in the direction of the strange meeting that undoubtedly held clues towards his greater purpose. With a pang in his heart, he bid a silent wish well for the other outcries he had heard, but would now be forced to ignore.

“I'm sorry,” Rick mumbled with a low, gritting gravel to his voice as he leaped forward away from the edge and free fell down towards the street below. The cold, humid air screamed past him, stinging at the tips of his ears as he plummeted like a living bullet. And as he dove, he brought to light memories of a time full of golden days, now no more, vanished from fate. Rick, thoroughly immersed in the gray line between realities as he fell, scrabbled to forge his own path, his own wavering identity, as he pressed forward. What drove him to such lengths he still could not be absolutely certain, but it was his way, the only way he knew.

The lights below Rick grew brighter, the shapes of other buildings and vehicles bolder and more clear, until in an instant, Rick swept his chest upward and pulled his arms apart. His descent slowed, but continued until with a series of tremendous flexes from the layered nexus of muscle caped across his shoulders, he willed himself up in defiance of the ground below. Higher and higher Rick flew until his bestial body became partway silhouetted with the still-shining glow of the moon behind him; always watching and never interfering.

Rick oriented himself with slight pitches and turns to sail across the wind in the direction of his goal and prayed that he would make it on time. He had grown tired of finding bodies and the fear so frequently evoked by his inhuman shape. Even as savior it was the rare hand that extended itself forward towards him. It was better that way he convinced himself. Fewer paths to harm those who did not wish to be seen.

Rick loosed a fresh cry of sonar to refresh his mental map and saw the image of the bound man slowly being slid closer towards the edge of the water despite his continued screams. Rick pumped his wings harder. A snarl trembled at the edges of his lips, his large fangs glistening like silver daggers.

In these remnants of Rick's departed days, he hoped to meet the bitter cost of the shadows looming over and within him. Here he experienced the full spectrum of regret, and longed for the quiet acceptance of a normal life. Those simple days were gone now. Gray had replaced the palette of life, but even grays can be lighter or darker depending on what they are viewed against. With each great fall and rise of his arms he brushed aside pangs of foolish hope that one day things could return to the way they were. But those memories were now hopelessly blended into the inseparable mess of his newfound purpose. It was one not bore of his choosing, but was held tight within his grasp with its urgent necessity and promise to heal a city that he loved.

And as Rick soared through the cool night, preparing his mind for the countless possibilities of what would await him when he finally touched down at the docks, he knew that he was free; not from the curse that ravaged his body, but able to wield its power towards crafting the future of his choice. It was a lonely, unbelievable, inspiring path ahead, and Rick would be there for every moment of it. The scent of seawater greeted Rick's nose as he grew closer to the docks and lowered himself into another dive to tuck in behind the array of dilapidated warehouses. He could still hear the echoes of the man's muffled screaming. A good sign. It was against fear and towards destiny that Rick pressed forward. He would carry the mantle of the Other proudly tonight. Not much time remained, but it was enough.

God, he hoped it would be enough.

END

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New story commission for  RolandLatoreSpeed of their awesome werebat character Richard Nocturne. :)

Big thanks to all of you who've stuck through an unforeseen downturn in upload rates. Feeling good to continue creating and sharing more stories with you all here. You all are so wonderful, and would love getting the chance to respond to your feedback in the comments below.

Thumbnail image of Rick's transformed state was created by Paladin CI.

~Lupus

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Interested in getting a story commissioned by me? I am currently open! I'd love to get the chance to bring your ideas to life. My commission info can be found here:

K9 Lupus Commission Info

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