Part 7

The Ultimate Showdown
Friends Forever
An Unsettling Revelation

Explosions sounded behind them as, a half an hour later, Tony and Richard walked at a leisurely pace out of the burning ruins that were once the Umbrella Corporation’s headquarters. Chunks of flaming brick and wood flew through the air around them.
“Well, I gotta say, that’s pretty odd that we spent weeks arguing over monsters only to become those very monsters ourselves,” mused Rich.
“Coincidence? I think not!” said Tony excitedly.
Their dialogue was punctuated by the rumbling explosions behind them. The old factory buildings were creaking and groaning in agony as the two friends reached the bridge that spanned the canal.
“I imagine killing zombies will be a lot easier, not to mention a lot more fun, with our new powers,” laughed Tony.
“You said it, amigo.”
“Just remember, as I am far more powerful than you, don’t be shy to yell out for my help if you ever get in trouble in battle. Furthermoreover, my new, exalted position makes me a sure candidate for CEO of our newly acquired Ninja Pirate Inc. You can be my secretary. Werewolves traditionally serve vampires.”
Tony paused and looked around. Rich had stopped walking several yards back. He stood there glaring at Tony. Tony walked back to where his friend was standing. Richard spoke angrily. “Wait just a minute, you patronizing bastard! Vampires are not better than werewolves!” He growled at Tony and brushed roughly past him, shouting over his shoulder as he strode across the bridge. “I will not be your secretary. I will not ask for your help. And if you think you can just glide into CEO position you’re sadly mistaken, my friend. You try to take over Ninja Pirate Inc and you will have one fuck of a fight on your hands.”
“Why wait?”
Richard stopped. He turned around. He had nearly crossed the bridge, but Tony had remained standing dark and calm and deathly still on the other side. Though he was more than 60 feet away from him, he had heard Tony’s words as if they were whispered in his ear. Richard snarled, then cocked his head to one side.
“Are you saying you want to settle this here and now?”
A light snow had begun to fall, swirling around the two warriors in impish gusts, urging them on to mayhem.
“You werewolves aren’t as dumb as you look. I do want to settle our little quarrel now."
Tony squared his shoulders. His eyes grew blood red. His forehead expanded and wrinkled in a predatory squint. His jaws and teeth grew. He seemed to stretch, like a shadow, to lengthen somehow. A mist rose off the canal and partially enveloped him.
“Can you think of a better time?” Tony asked.
Richard looked up at the silver clouds draped across the sky. The wind picked up, revealing a full moon.
“No, can’t say as I can.”
Richard threw back his head and laughed as the moonlight struck him. His laugh deepened and turned into an eerie howl. He had begun to transform. Richard’s eyes blazed an unearthly yellow. His mouth and nose slowly elongated into a snout. Veins bulged all over his body. His skin seemed to melt as his bones and muscles reformed. His ears became pointed. Fangs sprouted from his thick jaw. Hair began to grow all over him. His hands turned into claws. His shirt tore off his body. His pants ripped, shoes burst, belt snapped. After a few moments the transformation was complete. He now stood six feet tall, even hunched over. His knees had reversed themselves, his knuckles dragged on the ground. He was nearly five feet wide at the shoulder and covered in thick, golden brown hair. Richard’s slavering jaws split into a grotesque abomination of a grin as he lowered his gaze from the moon above and looked straight at Tony. Glowing yellow eyes met blood red ones. Both boys stifled a shiver staring into the ferocity before them.
“Let this be our final debate!” Tony yelled.
“You vampires and your theatrics,” muttered Rich. Then he let out a roar that resounded across the barren industrial landscape like a peal of thunder and charged. Bounding across the snow-covered bridge on all fours he reached Tony in an instant. He leaped up into the air and brought his razor sharp claws slicing down in a blur. He hit nothing but eddying snow flakes. Tony appeared suddenly behind him, and a look of pained surprise masked Richard’s face as he whirled around just in time to catch a jarring roundhouse kick which sent him sprawling, skidding through the snow. He rose and shook white powder out of his fur like a huge, shaggy dog. He rubbed his heavy lupine jaw with a gnarled, clawed hand and gazed in admiration at his enemy.
“You vampires are fast.”
He feinted to the right, dodged to the left, and caught Tony off guard. Richard tore into him with a bestial fury, connecting one, two, three devastating blows before locking his powerful paws onto the vampire’s arms, lifting him off the ground and throwing him bodily toward the ruined factory.
“You’re not too bright, though.”
Tony flew through the air, his black leather jacket swirling around him, finally crashing through a window and landing hard on the cement floor. He was dazed and aching, but he was tough. Tony arose and walked through the massive front doorway, surrounded by flames. Richard was waiting for him.
“You know,” Richard asked Tony, “why you won’t win? Because even if vampires have all that fancy magic, they don’t get it for decades after they’re bitten. It comes from practice and experience. You’re too new at this. I, on the other hand, have my strength and speed from day one.”
Tony said nothing. He noticed some shards of glass sticking out of his arm and, gritting his teeth, pulled them slowly out. One was five inches long.
“Rapid healing or not,” jibed the werewolf, “that’s gotta hurt like a bitch.”
Tony took a breath. “There’re two things you’re forgetting. First, I have an inhuman pain tolerance to begin with.” He paused, wrenched out the final shard with a flourish and dropped it to the ground. “The second thing you’re forgetting is that even if I don’t have any vampire magic yet, I still have my own skills to draw from.”
In a flash he pulled three throwing knives from a wrist sheath and sent them whirring through the air at Richard. Tony’s aim was true and his blades sharp; all three knives pierced Richard’s thick hide. The werewolf yelped in pain and quickly pulled out the blades with his teeth. The moment’s hesitation was all it took for Tony to be on him, punching, kicking, scratching. Richard was surprised and Tony got in numerous good shots, but it didn’t take long for the werewolf to galvanize into action. He caught Tony’s fist in the air and with a fearsome pressure, snapped the vampire’s metacarpals like matchsticks. He brought his bulky arms crashing down on the vampire’s unprotected back while his opponent was hunched over in pain from his crushed hand. Tony hit the ground hard and lay there waiting for his bones to heal. Richard stepped back and panted, wincing in pain as he listened to the clicking sound of his ribs mending. After a moment more of rest, the combatants faced each other.
“I think this might take longer to settle than I thought,” Tony breathed.
“True. Hitting you is like pounding a brick wall.”
“You’re no slouch yourself. You really caught me off guard with that feint.”
For a moment friendly understanding glowed between the two comrades. Suddenly they inexplicably convulsed, straightened, and yelled at the same time:
“Werewolves are better!”
“Vampires are better!”
And with that, they began their brawl anew.
Weary and aching, despite their rapid healing abilities, the combatants nonetheless charged at each other with an ungodly fury. They doggedly traded blows, relentlessly battering each other. Punching and kicking, biting and clawing, they rolled over and over, neither asking for nor giving quarter. Their battle raged across the bridge to the old factory, up and down flights of stairs, around corners, through doorways and back out again. Tony moved almost faster than Richard could follow. Every one of Richard’s punches made Tony feel as though a wrecking ball had hit him. The din of their combat, groans, screams, triumphant yells, grunts of exertion, rose above the creaking of the buildings and the crackling of the fire. Eventually they made their way around the main building and back to the front doors. Tony swung a chop at Richard’s neck, but the beast dodged and sunk his teeth into Tony’s arm. Tony gasped in pain as two-inch-long teeth tore through muscle and ligament. The vampire stopped attacking to cradle his ruined arm as it healed. Richard took advantage of the momentary let up in Tony’s attack. He grabbed Tony’s collar and, bringing him close, head butted the vampire ferociously three times, splitting his lips and breaking his nose.
“Who’s the better monster now?” Richard growled.
Tony spit out a tooth and managed a fierce, bloody smile.
“I’m not through with you yet, shaggy.”
Rich’s yellow eyes widened in shock as Tony’s knee connected with his groin. He loosened his grip on the vampire and sank to his knees. Tony slammed a knife into the beast’s neck, stepped back, and with a fiery intensity struck Richard square on the chin with an astounding uppercut, sending him crashing into the front of the building. Richard’s heavy form, coupled with the power of Tony’s hit, cracked the brick façade, and Richard crumpled to the ground.The warriors rested for the second time since their epic battle had begun.
Gradually, Richard rose to his hind paws. The opponents locked eyes for what they new would be the last time. It ended here.
They had just started their final charge when the old factory behind them finally gave. The whole building exploded outward toward the canal with a tremendous force. Chunks of the front wall flew through the air. Richard and Tony were launched halfway across the bridge, burned and wounded. Flaming bits of the factory hit the oily waters of the canal and ignited them. The water, so contaminated with volatile chemicals, lit the area in a spectacular blaze. Tony and Richard lay unconscious for five minutes, no more than two yards from each other.
Eventually they began to move.
Gingerly, feebly, they stretched their limbs as their bodies forced shrapnel back out through their skin, healed their burns, and reset broken bones. Though the healing was soon through, the agony was still very much present.
Tony stood up.
Richard stood up.
They could see there was only one way this fight would end. They advanced.
“I have to go for a kill,” both thought.
Tony drew and eleven-inch knife, bared his glistening white fangs, and hissed.
Richard growled, a low, rumbling, dangerous sound, and trudged forward.
The werewolf wrapped his claws around the vampire’s throat and head, cutting off the hiss, and began to twist. He was trying to rip his foe’s head off. The vampire’s blade was silver. He rammed it deep into his opponent’s belly. The werewolf’s growl was replaced by the sizzling of flesh: Richard’s allergic reaction to the shining metal. Tony twisted the blade up and around, searching for the heart. Just as the mists of death were clouding over the combatants’ eyes, their lives flashed before them.
Improv club, Python skits in front of the school. Celebrity Jeopardy, parties over Tony’s, porno at Richard’s. Countless movies, games, walks, and chats came flooding back to the two friends. Through the haze, Richard saw Tony rambling on in the front seat of Pachuco.
“But I digress,” Tony was saying, “I love pop tarts.”
Tony could see himself standing next to Richard one fine spring day under the shade of a tree.
“Lovely weather,” Tony said.
Rich replied, “It’s giving me an erection!”
Simultaneously, Richard released Tony and Tony withdrew his dagger. They hugged breathlessly on the rusted bridge over the flaming canal amid the falling snow.
“It doesn’t matter who’s better.”
“Right, because I think we’ve both proven we’re about equal.”
“We coulda learned something from Steve and Amy,” said Tony.
Richard looked across the canal to Steve’s van, in which a Goth-chic Amy, clearly embracing her new vampirism, and Steve, halfway between human self and full transformation, were apparently seeing how far they could stick their tongues down each other’s throats.
“Oh, okay," said Rich, unraveling and foot of tongue and advancing on Tony.
“Take one more step and I’ll stab you in the eye,” said Tony drawing his blade. “I meant we should see past all this nonsense of werewolves and vampires. We’re friends, plain and simple, and always will be.”
And with that, the two friends limped slowly across the bridge towards home.

As Richard and Tony made their way to their respective rides, a single, unnoticed periscope slid silently beneath the flaming waters of the canal.
Below the surface a highly advanced mini-sub hovered, glowing, in the murky depths.
Dr. Thaddeus Trans released his finger from the periscope control button and the screen before him went black.He was seated in a large, high-backed, swiveling chair, surrounded by computer consoles which flooded the interior of the submarine with a dull red light. Trans’ effeminate face grew grim in that light.
“Very well,” he said angrily. “So those two wish to squander the gifts I have bestowed upon them? They wish to turn their backs on my generous offer? ‘Tis a shame. Their willpower is astounding. They were capable of breaking the influence of my psycho-emotional chemicals. They would have made invaluable generals for my zombie army. Now I suppose I really will have to kill them.
“Sung Li, get me Philipe Abattoir on the line,” Trans spoke into an intercom.
A flawlessly beautiful Asian face appeared on the monitor in front of him. Her skin was pale and without even the smallest imperfection, like porcelain. Her hair was sleekest ebon, the same color as her seductive almond eyes, and her teasing, pouting lips.
Sung Li was Trans’ chief assistant and head interrogator for the Umbrella Corporation. She was an unmatched martial artist and possessed a fantastic scientific mind.
“You wish to eliminate those two boys you turned into monsters, Dr.? That’s a shame, they were cute.”
“Sadly yes, Sung Li. They declined my offer, what other choice do I have?”
“Well, instead of having that leering animal Abattoir kill them, why not have him merely capture them and turn them over to me?”
Trans chuckled. “You think you’d be able to convince them to change their minds?”
“I am sure of it, Dr. My talents have never failed you before.”
The wicked doctor smiled, thinking of Li’s torture methods.
“It’s true, Sung Li. You can be very . . . persuasive. Very well, then. Patch me through to Abattoir.”
“Yes sir, Dr. Thank you sir.”
Sung Li’s face disappeared, to replaced by one not nearly as pleasant.
Philipe Abattoir did not work expressly for the Umbrella Corporation. He was a bounty hunter. An ugly term, but it fit Abattoir well. He grinned revoltingly at Trans and spoke to him through a heavy Cajun accent.
“Well, well, Doc. How can Ah be of ‘sistahnce today?”
“Abattoir, I need you to bring in two bounties. I’m sending the files over to you now.”
The Cajun perused the documents.
“Mon jou, these lil’ ones be nuthin’ but chillins. I laak hurtin’ chillins.
“Be careful, Abattoir, they’re more than they appear.”
Abattoir read on.
“Ah, you’n raaght about that, Doc. A weahwolf anna vampah? Be a good challenge.”
“And how goes the search for Silas Blake?”
Abattoir frowned. “Well, Ah get him soonah oh latah. He a crafty devil, though. Already killed two ah mah men.”
“Make sure you don’t harm any of these bounties too much. I want them brought in alive, no disintegrations.”
“As you wish,” said Abattoir, looking disappointed.
“Don’t fail me, Abattoir; there’s too much at stake.”
“Oh, Ah bring dem in soon, Doc, Ah gah-rahn-tee.”
The screen went dark again.
Trans leaned back in his chair and mused on the night’s events.
“A traitor revealed and two new recruits. That’s worth the loss of one ramshackle headquarters. Meanwhile, our enemies are still unaware of our true plan, which is right now moving ahead of schedule. This is promising to be a banner year for Umbrella.”
He chuckled quietly in the dark as his mini-sub sped off into the inky waters of the canal.