Scriptrat

FEAR THE REAPERS                       Dathryn Zull sucked in a long breath of the night air, cool, crisp, alive. The moon, a reddish yellow cresent, hung low in the dark, starless sky. Clouds thick and pillowy and full of moisture that promised a pre-dawn rain floated lazily across the horizon. This night was quiet, eeirily so, and altogether uneventful to a normal man. Dathryn Zull, however, was no normal man, he was in fact, no man at all. Dathryn Zull was a Reaper..a race of bestial, blood drinking, cruely mutated monsters that preyed on the living, both pure and tainted. Dathryn Zull sniffed the air and shuddered as an almost electric

An RFA Helio-plane, a bulky, heavily armored troop transporter..flew just above the tree tops to the east. The loud, rythmic thrumming of its turbine motors umistakable, jarring the eardrums. Trench watched the 20 RFA soldiers, wearing the standard RFA colors...red. blue, and black, leap from the craft to hit the ground rolling. In a blink, the 20 RFA jumptroopers were on thier feet, weapons locked and loaded, in perfect formation. Not bad. Trench guessed these were seasoned vets..not raw recruits. Trench wondered what RFA big-wig was here when the ladder rope decended from the rear hatch of the RFA Helio-plane, an old RX-107 Flying Lion. A l

Trench Bradley slowly pushed the swinging double doors of Bart's Saloon open, his blue-grey eyes scanning the interior of the bar expertly. 18 patrons, give or take plus the fat, balding barkeep, a worn down looking black man in his mid 50's. Four men sat at a large, curved walnut table, it's top covered with blue felt, playing poker. Another man, an average looking black-haired guy in his 30's sat at a velvet cushined sofa with a tall table in front.A pretty woman, no older than 20 with long, curly blonde hair and wearing a revealing red strapless top and matching red skirtsat by the young man, one leg propped over his lap. The blonde was wh