Contact:

➤ Email me at

David@themodernauthor.com

OR

themodernauthor@gmail.com

Discord Link The Modern Author @ https://discord.gg/KpQhWGQF

 My Wattpad serial “Subway Run” https://www.wattpad.com/1388910131-bureau-of-para-natural-investigations-volume-1

My Kindle Vella Serial “Voodoo Beats”

https://www.amazon.com/kindle-vella/story/B0CM2B5N3C

My website:

 www.TheModernAuthor.com

Affiliate links:

-Wattpad Content-

BPI Serial - Subway Run

Part One: The Ghoul

Piercing screams echoed from the darkened subway tunnel. At first, everyone on the 59th Street Platform ignored the sound. A few looked up but shrugged, and then went back to their cell phones. It was early, too early to care about anything but getting coffee and getting on the subway to go to work.

When the cry came a second time, it got people's attention. Suddenly all eyes were up and active, but there still was nothing to see. Whatever was happening, was happening deep in the tunnel passageway.

"That can't be good," Deacon Reese of the Bureau of Para-Natual Investigations said as he waited on the platform. They all stood in line, trying to get to work on an average New York Monday morning. He pulled his cellphone from one of the many pockets in his cargo pants and called the secured line for the front office.

 The second the call was answered, he said, "Hey Emma, do you have any activity showing up on the subway platform for 59th Street?"

"Nothing is popping up on the alert board, why?" the diminutive tech genius asked, her voice sparking up.

The scream came again, this time it hit a special note, the one which always sent a chill down Deacon's spine. "That's why," Reese said.

"Was that scream?" Emma said, he could hear her sitting up in her chair, "I could hear it right through the phone, clear as day."

"Yeah, looks like I'm taking a detour on the way in, have James meet me down here in the tunnel as soon as possible." He pulled earpieces from their protective case and placed them in both ears. They would allow for continued contact with Emma and give protection should the need for gunfire arise, and the need for gunfire usually arose. 

He headed toward the dark opening of the subway tunnel and jumped off the edge of the platform. The move gathered some attention from the crowd, but the big BPI agent ignored questions and comments. Reese picked up the pace, pulling a mini-flashlight from his pocket. 

He smiled, people laughed at his cargo pants, but things like this were the exact reason he wore them. Sweeping his flashlight's beam over the tracks, the big agent drew his 1911 S&W .45 from the concealed carry holster fitted behind his back, where his black leather jacket had hidden it.  

"I hear you're having fun without me," James said over the comm. 

"Not sure if I'd define it as fun, but yeah, 59th Street, South Tunnel," Reese saw shadows moving in the beam of his light, "Better get on it, new guy, I get the feeling I am not alone down here."

"On it, boss," James said. "And it's been six months, can we stop with the new guy shit already."

"Sure, I'll get right on that," Reese responded. 

Emma broke in, "You boys playing nice?" She waited a second, but got no reply, "Okay, that's what I thought. Anyway, I have updates. The Red Line train is stalled in the south tunnel. Deek, I'm seeing you as about a thousand yards from it. Transit has people on the way, but they're getting no responses. Watch yourself, okay?"

"Roger, what's the ETA on Transit's officers, and how long before James gets down here?"

"I'm hustling through the platform crowd now, I'll be coming up on your six in about two minutes," James said, his breath coming heavy as he ran.

"Transit is about twenty minutes out," Emma was typing furiously, the clacking of the keys nearly drowned out her voice, "I have hacked the camera feed from the train, and I am scrubbing it now."

The scream came again, and Reese froze in place. "That was no human scream," he said. "Emma, did you capture it, can you run it through one of the databases and tell me what I have down here?"

When Emma Anderson spoke again her voice was shaky, "No need boss, I know the sound. That was a Ghoul."

"No way," James said, "Like the thing that marked you, you don't think it's the same one do you Em?"

Reese cut in, "Not a chance, Bluttrinker knows better than to be anywhere near here. It knows I'm hunting it, Emma, no way he gets within a hundred miles of you."

"No, this one was a female," Emma said. "They have a higher pitch call than the males. If there is a ghoul down there, Deek, you know what that means?" 

Reese racked the slide on his pistol and clicked off the safety, "Zombies."

Read more at:

My Wattpad serial “Subway Run” https://www.wattpad.com/1388910131-bureau-of-para-natural-investigations-volume-1

-Kindle Content-

Blood Debt: A Deacon Reese Novel

Port of Port Royal, South Carolina was an unassuming town serving as a deepwater port handling a wide variety of cargo. Everything from automobiles to roll-on/roll-off cargo containers and even some serious bulk materials came and went from its docks daily. It was also home to several shipyards and other maritime-based businesses. But those had all shut down hours ago. The area appeared deserted except for the calls of night birds, burping bullfrogs, and the buzz of insects.

The day had been swelting hot and it was still a steamy ninety-three degrees. Somewhere out at sea a storm was brewing, and the stars above refused to shine through the oppressive haze, leaving the moon little more than a muted glow hidden behind heavy cloud cover. A roar of distant thunder rumbled over the seaport. The sound carried and echoed along its many docks and wharves like a low menacing howl spreading across a darkened landscape of warehouses and crab-like cranes.

“Did you catch that?” Deacon Reese asked as made his way along the boardwalk known as Factory Creek Pier. His combat boots squeaked on the damp wood with each measured stride.

“Yeah, boss,” replied the tiny voice in his ear. Hidden from sight, he had a small but powerful communications unit tucked into this right ear canal. To the casual observer, if there were any at the late hour, it would have looked like an ordinary earbud.

“The only question is, was that thunder, or has our mystery guest already arrived,” Emma Anderson stated. She was, as usual, his spritely tech support along for the ride on his mission.

Reese took great satisfaction in knowing the twenty-two-year-old was secured in the control center, far from possible harm. She may not have been in the field with him, but she was every bit as valuable a member of Deacon’s team.

“I’m thinking both,” Deacon replied. “I knew we were on the right track down here. I’m glad I stuck around the extra day. If this thing is anywhere close to what I think it is, we could have a major problem on our hands.”

Fog rolling in from the Atlantic Ocean swallowed all color and left nothing in its wake but shades of gray. Out on the pier, the dim glow of newly installed LED lampposts dotting the old boardwalk illuminated it in square patches of ghostly white light lost in the roiling mists.

“Is everything set up as I asked,” Deacon said, moving slowly but steadily toward a large warehouse on the right side of the boardwalk.

“Yeah, boss,” she said. “We have the State Police keeping the locals out of the area, the dock is yours.”

“Good, because I think I have company,” the night was suddenly deathly still, gone was the chirping of birds and the burping call of lonely bull frogs. The air smelled of rotting seaweed and saltwater, and something else; something intangible but no less potent. The atmosphere was charged with an almost electric tension, dangerous things wandered about in the faded light. One of them was a monster, one of them was a man, both of them were hunting.

The monster was a Lycanthropic Bio-Entity, otherwise known as a werewolf. It was a hulking beast with flesh covered in thick black hair. Its massive body and slouching shoulders were far too thick and wide to be anything resembling human anymore. It sniffed the air, relentlessly tracking prey. Its long-pointed, tooth filled snout, held low to the ground.

Despite its grossly hunched posture, the creature’s presence spoke of a raw, primal power and an unnatural agility. With each step, the muscles beneath its matted fur rippled with a disturbing grace. It moved in harmony with the shadows of the night with the calculated lethality of an apex predator.

As the fog shifted and the lamplight flickered, the monster’s eyes caught the light, revealing pools of fiery red rage with a gleam of malicious intelligence. It was an unnatural beast, a horror movie killer made of flesh and bone and bad intent.

The man was no less dangerous. He was former Army Ranger, Lieutenant Deacon Reese, of the Night Stalkers, the famed 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment. Back on the teams, his call sign had been Reaper, and with good reason, he had legendary numbers as a top operator.

Three years ago, the big former Ranger left the Army and never looked back. Circumstances beyond his control had led him to learn about the existence of creatures like the werewolf he was tracking and the Bureau of Par-Natural Investigations. The BPI as it was called, was a top-secret government agency which had been brought to life in the early 1800’s when America’s outward expansion finally bumped into the night-breeds, the creatures that called darkness home, and they had bumped back. He went to work for them from the moment he left the Army, doing what he did best, eliminating threats.

“This one is different Emma,” he said. “It just keeps killing, man or animal, it doesn’t seem to care what it hunts as long as it feeds. I’ve been on its trail now for better than half the week, and I don’t think it has changed back into human form yet.”

“I thought they had to revert back to human form in the daylight, boss.”

“So did I, but this one hasn’t.”

“Has staying in beast-mode that long ever been recorded?” the young woman asked.

“Not sure, you’re the tech expert, dig into those big fancy databases of yours and see what you find.”

“On it,” the sound of keys clacking filled his ear. “I’m getting nothing. I’m gonna call a friend.”

“Willy?” Reese asked.

“He is a walking talking encyclopedia of all things creepy-crawly.”

Deacon nodded to himself, Willy as a good source as any. After all, the man had led the number one BPI team in the states for thirty years before Reese had signed on. If it howled, hissed, or chewed used bubble gum the former field agent would likely have run into it during his time on the job. Another roar filled the night, this time without the accompanying thunder. The werewolf was getting close.

“Either way, I think we’re out of time,” Reese stated.

-Kindle Vella Content-

BPI Serial - Voodoo Beats

Part One: Devilish DJ

The darkness of the New York City night was pierced by strobing neon lights and thumping bass, emanating from an underground world hidden from the prying eyes of the average citizen. Driven by a primal rhythm, the pulsating heart of the urban rave scene thrived in the depths of the city.

Jennifer and her best friend Lucy exited their Uber with anticipation painted across their faces. Their hearts raced as they approached the old factory where the rave was underway. The pounding bass reverberated through their bodies, drawing them closer to the big door of the factory as if it were a magnet.

"Can you believe we're actually here?" Jennifer squealed, her eyes wide with excitement.

"Right?! This is going to be epic!" Lucy replied, grinning widely. The two friends shared a quick hug before pushing their way through the entrance.

As they stepped into the cavernous space, the music engulfed them, wrapping around them like a cloak of sound. The factory, once a bustling hub of industry, now stood as a shrine to the party gods. Shadows danced in the corners, remnants of its industrial past contrasting sharply with the lively celebration within.

"Welcome to the underworld," Lucy shouted to be heard over the music, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Ooh, scary," Jennifer responded, her distinctive red hair bouncing as she threw herself into the festivities.

"Stick close," Lucy instructed, as she winked at Jennifer, who laughed and nodded before they both vanished into the swirling, hypnotic mass of dancers.

"Wow," Jennifer shouted over the thundering beat, her eyes wide with amazement. "This place is incredible!"

Lucy grinned, nodding in agreement as she tugged Jennifer further into the cavernous space. The warehouse was a relic of New York's industrial past, its lofty ceilings and steel girders casting long shadows on the concrete floor. Graffiti adorned the walls, remnants of the building's previous life. But tonight, it had been transformed into a pulsating hub of energy, where the city's subculture could escape the mundane confines of the everyday world.

"Come on!" Lucy urged, pulling Jennifer deeper into the crowd. "Let's dance!"

As they made their way to the heart of the rave, Jennifer couldn't help but marvel at the eclectic mix of people around her. There were punks with leather jackets and brightly colored hair, goths dressed head to toe in black, and club kids bedecked in sequins and glitter. Despite their diverse appearances, they all moved together as one, united by the DJ's hypnotic rhythm that filled the room.

The sheer sensory overload of the rave was both intoxicating and overwhelming. Jennifer felt herself being drawn into the swirling vortex of lights, sound, and movement. As she danced alongside Lucy, she couldn't shake the feeling that she had stepped into another world entirely, one where anything was possible.

Jennifer, a vivacious 21-year-old with fiery red hair and striking green eyes, stood amidst the pulsating crowd, feeling the bass resonate through her body. Her unique sense of style was on full display – an oversized denim jacket adorned with patches, a neon crop top, and black leather pants that hugged her curves just right. As she moved to the beat, her excitement at being at her first real rave was palpable.

"Hey Jen!" Lucy shouted over the pounding music, "The DJ is Troy. I'm gonna go talk to him for a bit! You'll be okay here, right?"

"Of course!" Jennifer replied, her voice filled with enthusiasm. "Go girl, have fun!"

"Remember," Lucy warned, "stay close to the dance floor and mingle with the crowd. I'll come find you later!"

As Lucy disappeared into the sea of people her destination the DJ's elevated stage, Jennifer's attention returned to the hypnotic rhythm of the music. She allowed herself to become fully immersed in the festivities, unaware of the sinister undercurrent lurking beneath the surface.

The music slowly began to change, taking on a strange, almost otherworldly quality. It seemed to reach deep into Jennifer's mind, lulling her into a trance-like state. She barely noticed the atmosphere around her shifting as random acts of violence began to emerge amongst the blissfully unsuspecting revelers.

A man shoved another dancer roughly, sending him sprawling onto the floor. A woman hurled her drink at someone's face, glass shattering upon impact. All the while, the crowd continued to sway in unison, seemingly oblivious to the aggression unfolding around them.

"Is it just me, or is this getting weird?" Jennifer muttered to herself, suddenly feeling uneasy. She tried to focus on the music, but the odd, hypnotic beat now seemed to claw at her senses, making her skin crawl.

"Hey, are you alright?" a fellow raver asked, concern etched across his face. "You look a little freaked out."

"I don't know," Jennifer admitted, her voice trembling slightly. "Something just feels...off, you know?"

"Maybe you're right," the stranger agreed, glancing around nervously. "I've been to plenty of raves, but this one's definitely different."

As the unsettling atmosphere continued to grow, Jennifer couldn't shake the feeling that she was no longer simply an observer at the rave, but instead a pawn in some insidious game. The music pulsed louder and darker, its sinister rhythm burrowing further into her mind.

"Lucy!" Jennifer called out desperately, scanning the crowd for her friend. But Lucy was nowhere to be found, swept away by the strange tide that had engulfed the once-vibrant rave.

Jennifer's heart raced as she tried to navigate the sea of bodies, their movements synchronized to the unsettling beat. Her breaths came in shallow bursts, her eyes darting around in search of any sign of normalcy amidst the chaos.

Jennifer tensed as a hand brushed her hair. She turned to see a tall, lean young man with dark, piercing eyes holding her hair in his fist as he sniffed it. A predatory grin stretched across his face, and as he stepped closer, she could feel his body heat radiating against her skin.

"Um, hi?" Jennifer stammered "Personal space dude." She pulled her hair out of his grip and moved, trying to put some distance between them, but the press of the crowd made it difficult to move.

The stranger leaned in, inhaling deeply, a look of pure satisfaction crossing his features. "You smell...delicious," he purred, his hands gliding along her waist, fingertips brushing the curve of her hips.

"Hey, cool it, pal," Jennifer snapped, shoving him away. "Look, don't touch." She frowned, unnerved by his boldness.

He tipped his head. His eyes never leaving hers as he backed away. The sinister smile, she noticed, remained firmly implanted on is face.

Follow the story on Kindle Vella by clicking on the link:

https://www.amazon.com/kindle-vella/story/B0CM2B5N3C