Henry Winchester followed Cuthbert Sinclair down the winding staircase that leads to the bowels of the Men of Letter’s bunker.
‘The Zoo’ thought Henry.
Sinclair walked slowly past each exhibit with his hand running along the glass. Henry followed behind him. Henry peered into the windows as they passed by to see different monsters stare back at him. There was a plaque on the side of each containment which stated what monster was behind the glass. The only supernatural being that Henry couldn’t look at was the angel that Sinclair had locked up. The angel wouldn’t move, but Henry could feel its eyes upon him. It was strangely dressed wearing a suit and tan trenchcoat. Henry has pleaded in the past with Cuthbert to let the angel go, knowing …show more content…
This alpha comes from a different time. A purer time. When Alpha’s roamed the earth, and betas, omega’s only purpose were to serve their alpha masters. Look at us compared to the perfection of this alpha. Alpha’s today are weaker, smaller, less in tune with their inner instincts.”
Though they couldn’t hear him, the alpha was banging and clawing at the glass. The alpha was magnificent.
“Look at all that…energy.”
“This is wrong,” Henry spoke up.
“We only agree on this zoo, so that we could study the habits of the monsters we hunt, not pulling alpha’s out of the past to..what?”
“We? I control this bunker. Don’t forget that Henry,” Sinclair chided.
Moving to stand in front of the last glass window, Cuthbert Sinclair flicked his wrist, and the room lit up. The room was also empty.
‘Omega’ is all the plaque said.
“Dean will make a fine addition to my collection. Since you can’t persuade Sam to join us, we will simply bring Dean here. Once the pup is born, we will open the wall between the alpha and Dean and let them mate. Can you imagine the type of pups that will be born? They’ll be incredible soldiers for our cause.”
Henry was …show more content…
Henry didn’t exactly invite me to the bunker. I was there once. I had to meet Henry in a motel in Lebanon Kansas. I had Dean with me he was about six or seven at the time. We walked into the motel and Henry was already there; he was waiting for us, next thing I remember is waking up in a room in the bunker. Dean was gone. Back then I was more drunk than sober all I could think about was finding some liquor; I didn’t even notice my son was missing. I found a bottle of whiskey in a drawer and spent the next hour burying my thoughts in the amber liquid. Henry brought Dean back into the room, and I could see the boy had been crying. Henry said Dean had taken a spill while he was playing. I gave Dean a good whack for acting like a