The glory days of St. Stanislaus had passed decades ago, but a shadow of its former self still remained in the majesty of its vaulted ceilings and the intricacies of its stained glass windows. Regardless of the lowered attendance at mass or the general decline of the neighborhood, the church was like a second home to Witold "Vee" Chodkiewicz. He was baptized there, served as an altar boy, attended countless weddings and funerals, and was a Sunday staple for the majority of his 45 years of life, excepting only his military years. It was there, on his 18th birthday, that Father Barczak had taken him into the sacristy, where his father and two older brothers met them, and he learned the truth of the darkness in the world.
He was initiated into their lifestyle, a lifestyle he sought to escape by joining the Army. The things he saw during his enlistment, in the States and on deployment during the first Gulf and Bosnian Wars, forced him to face the error of his ways, and he returned home, only to find that his father and eldest brother, Józef, had been killed. His middle brother, Andrzej, had disappeared. Father Barczak had long since retired by that time, but Vee was able to track him down and get the truth about what had happened to his family.
Nearly 20 years had passed since then, and whilst Vee had worked numerous leads regarding Andrzej's whereabouts during his service to the neighborhood, none had panned out. The shifting demographic of South Side brought with it new challenges, but also new information, and insights. It, moreso than even his unwavering faith in the Catholic Church, kept him coming back to St. Stanislaus. He picked up Spanish as a third language and worked the church's community outreach program to stay abreast of unfolding situations. He found that a terrified mother was more likely to speak to a familiar face from church than a member of the UCPD when her son was involved with something shady. Being someone that the neighborhood could count on gave his life purpose far beyond just living for the sake of existing.
^^^^^
"<Vee, do you have a moment?>" The deep bass rumble of perfect Polish came from Kasper, the oldest member of Vee's Bronić cell, and the only remaining member from his father's days. Too old to be an active participant in the cell's activities, he was nevertheless a font of old world knowledge and someone that the dwindling South Side Polish community looked to as a leader.
Setting aside his forms and paperwork, he looked up and responded in kind. "<Of course, brother. Please, have a seat. What can I do for you?>"
Slowly sitting in the offered chair, Kaspar took a few breaths to order his thoughts before speaking again. "<It's about Andrzej. There has been a... sighting... of it.>"
Vee knew that his face must have displayed every ounce of shock that he felt. Standing quickly, he almost shouted. "<What? Where? Tell me everything!>"
"<Calm yourself, my friend. I said a sighting. At The Subterranean, two nights past. It has not been confirmed.>"
"<Still...>" Vee began to pace the room. "<Why now? Nothing concrete in more than a decade. Not even a whisper of a lead in more than five years. And I trust the source is reliable?>"
"<I mentioned it was not confirmed, yes? But the source is Miguelo, and you know better than I that he would not bring it to the cell's attention without cause.>"
Vee knew the truth in what Kaspar said. Miguelo Salazar had been a local problem child, a heart attack for his parents waiting to happen, until a chance encounter with a beast at Riverview Park brought him into the cell's sphere of contacts. Whilst he had not stopped being a handful, he had become hyper-aware of the strange and unexplainable during his pursuits, and was quick to tell a
Bronić member if something went beyond the norm. His intuition had thus far been spot on.
"<He would not, no. If he believes he saw my brother, I have no reason to doubt him.>"
"<Witold. This thing that Andrzej has become... You know it is no longer your brother. It hasn't been since the night we lost your father and Józef.>"
"<No matter what he has become, he is still my brother, Kaspar. That will not save what remains of his body, but I have to believe God will take mercy upon his soul. Once I set it free.>"
Kaspar cocked his head and looked sidelong at Vee. "<Then I imagine you will want to see to this personally? It has been a long while since I've been out, but if you require assistance, the rest of us will be at your disposal.>"
"<Thank you, but this is my burden to bear. Please tell the others, in case I don't return.>"
Rising as slowly as he sat, Kaspar nodded his understanding. Protection of the neighborhood required a joint effort by those that had been exposed to the secret terrors of Union City, but every member of
Bronić had personal demons that no other could be allowed to confront. For Vee, it was a matter of honor and responsibility. Only if he should fall, would the candle need to be taken up by another. Embracing as family, the two men said their goodbyes, leaving Vee alone with his thoughts.
^^^^^
Watching cars roll along rain-slicked cobblestone streets in Union City's Historic district, Vee spent his third night sitting in a coffee house across the way from The Subterranean. For a man that hated the taste of the drink as much as he did, it was an extra special kind of Hell that he would need it to blend in. A grey turtleneck and horn-rimmed glasses completed his "hipster" camouflage. Sipping his detested beverage, he observed the foot traffic in and out of the club, noting which patrons were likely normal (if the appellation could accurately be applied to some of the more goth individuals, with their fetish gear and latex outfits) and which could possibly be something else. It could take years of exposure to pick up on the subtle cues but once one knew what to look for, they stood out dramatically.
It was whilst nursing his fifth cup of the evening that Vee saw him. Built ursine large like all
Chodkiewicz men, Andrzej stood almost a full head above the entourage with which he arrived. Dressed in an obviously well tailored, and expensive, casual suit, he cut an intimidating figure. The club's doorman didn't hesitate to allow his group the quickest possible entry into The Subterranean. Finishing his cup and tossing it into a nearby wastebasket, Vee left the coffee house and jogged across the street.
"Yo, 'oldies night' is Wednesday, pops!" Vee ignored the club goers waiting in line for admittance.
"Sir, you'll need to get to the back of the line." The doorman was professional, if nothing else, as a bouncer glowered at Vee.
"Ah, yes. I would, but I was told Andrzej wanted to see me right away."
The doorman's eyes glassed over hard. Vee wondered if he had overplayed his hand, or if Andrzej was even still using his real name. The bouncer coughed and the doorman snapped out of it.
"I understand, sir. I apologize for the delay." He stepped aside and allowed Vee access to the club.
Inside, he was greeted by a blaring cacophony of noise that only vaguely resembled music to his ears. The crowd seemed to enjoy it. With low lights and the general demeanor of the goths, he couldn't be entirely sure. Shouldering his way to the bar, he ordered an appropriately strong double shot of top shelf whiskey, overpaid with a decent tip, and scanned the place, noting the exits and which people were paying too much attention to him. Andrzej and his group occupied a large, roped off alcove, which several small groups approached and departed after brief conversations.
He waited until things settled and Andrzej's entourage was deep in discussion to make his move. He had played out several scenarios in his mind over the years, from group ambush to guns blazing, but he threw them all to the wind as he calmly stepped to the satin rope.
"Ah, Andrzej. You're looking quite well, for 20 years dead." The table full of pretty corpses stopped speaking and, as one, turned to stare at him. For a moment, he felt the way a mouse must feel when trapped in a room full of cats, but he just smiled at them in return. Two heartbeats passed as slow as an eternity before the big man guffawed loudly at him.
"And you got old, little brother! You, leave us." He waved dismissively at his compatriots.
Sneering at Vee, one of the monsters unclipped the partition and the group filed past him, mingling with the mortals of the club like sharks in a sea of minnows.
"You should not have come here, Witold. There is nothing in this place for you but death."
"And you should have died with father and Józef, yet here we both are."
Andrzej glared at him, but made no move to stand or correct him. With a shrug, he responded, "I do not dispute that. But had you been there, had you done your duty, maybe they would be alive still. Maybe we all would be."
"If you regret what you've become, you could repent your sins, return to the Church, and be purified."
At this, Andrzej laughed again. "Regret? Oh, little brother. Didn't the old priest tell you? I CHOSE this. As the others lay dying, I was given the opportunity to join them, or become something much more than a tool of the Hammer. It was easy, really."
Vee broke eye contact as he dropped his chin towards his chest and reached into his pocket. "I had thought Father Barczak mistaken, but what he and the others said was true. You are lost."
The mirth at the situation was impossible to miss upon Andrzej's features, inflaming Vee's anger. "Lost? Of course not." He stood swiftly. "I could show you. You could learn the truth of power that those doddering old fools in the Church deny."
Taking a step back, Vee pulled a small white object from his pocket and started muttering to himself. Andrzej's eyes narrowed and his amusement slowly drained away, as he realized, too late, what was about to happen.
"Blessed is Saint Ignatius, who brings light to the darkest of places, who brings warmth to the coldest of hearts, who reminds even the dead of the grace of God!" As Vee raised his voice on the last words, a brilliant glowing ball of pure radiance expanded rapidly from the object in his hand; the knuckle bones of a canonized nun. The club was quickly awash in the illumination, to the concern of the patrons and the horror of the dead.
The screams of the latter, including Andrzej, as they attempted to flee from the light drowned out the shouts of the mortals, but over the din, Vee heard someone yell a question towards one of the monsters, followed by a chorus of deafening shotgun blasts. The herd mentality of the club took over, and he was swept toward the front of The Subterranean. The pushing and shoving of dozens of hands was crushing as everyone tried to escape the gunshots. Breaking glass and shrieking voices assailed Vee as he was able to make it outside. Glancing around, he saw no sign of his brother or any of the other creatures he marked inside. He pulled away from the throngs of club goers and onlookers, intent on reaching his car. He had the answers that he needed, and even without the actions of the gunman, a war had been started. He would need to tell his cell, and their superiors in the Malleus Maleficarum, and prepare...
^^^^^
Kaspar threw the spent shotgun in his trunk, its barrel warped from the incendiary shells he had used. He knew that Witold, like every other member of the Witch's Hammer he had known, would use half measures. Not him, though. The Sources had told him about Andrzej. Telling Vee would lead him to the club, to cause a distraction, to create a weakness Kaspar could exploit. He had asked the question, "who is Cain?" as he was bid, and he had shown no hesitation in striking the demons down. He did not get them all, unfortunately, but he would, in time. Of course, Vee would never know what had happened to his brother, and that would keep him focused on the hunt.
No other threat was as important as the vampires, and Kaspar would use every tool he had to destroy them.
The Church, 40th & J St
The Club, 13th & Jackson
