11:36 AM

Eric felt his teeth grinding. His jaw was beginning to hurt and he had a feeling that he was going to be doing a lot of teeth grinding, probably in his sleep, too. So he knew his jaw was going to be hurting for while still.

He’d gotten a call, too; already on his way downtown, Eric had plenty of time to be there first, along with a good sized group of Silver Guardian and Silver Hills PD. Both groups were on edge, and the usually neglected homicide unit was frazzled with suddenly being pummeled with seven, disturbing corpses.

Eight, Eric corrected himself. His eyes stayed locked on the body that had been almost decoratively hung on the spikes of a cast iron fence surrounding the park across from the movie theater.

He didn’t have a gag reflex anymore, too enraged to feel the greasy curling feeling in his stomach. The corpse had been mounted almost decoratively, clearly on display for all to see and excruciatingly fresh. Blood was still sliding down the bars of the fence and pooling on the side walk. The examiner had already muttered to him and the Chief of Police that the body wasn’t even cold, and was worse, had probably still been breathing and screaming when he’d been hung off the fence.

It was something strong, that was for sure. The body had been shoved down over the barbs of the spear like fencing rails. A number of the spike had punctured completely through the body. Eric knew it was the same killer, the same broken jaw and half face torn away grinned at him. Taunted him.

Come and get me.

“I’ll kill him,” Eric snarled under his breath.

“Sir?”

Eric flicked his eyes to a Silver Guardian as he swiftly saluted then relaxed. Everything was becoming more relaxed . . . or more panicked. Silver Hills hadn’t seen a serial killer since before World War II. Now there were eight mutilation murders within fifteen hours of each other. And one of them in broad daylight and public.

“Sir, there’s witness. Says he saw what happened,” the Guardian informed him quickly, he was shifting a little in his place. Eric nodded and followed the other man to where a sullen, dark haired man hunched his shoulders against the sunlight. His eyes were cast down and something about him set Eric on edge and made the hair on the back of his neck prickle.

Eric cleared his throat and drew the attention of the witness, a new shiver raced down Eric’s spine when the hollow, almost animal like eyes settled on him.

“Sir, I’m Eric Myers, Commander of the Silver Guardians—” Eric reached for the same small pad of paper and pen he’d written the license plates on and tensed to take notes, “—can I have your name?”

“Dixon,” the witness muttered, his eyes falling away from Eric and flicking around the busy scene. “It was some guy, hung that other man like he was a Christmas decoration and ran into the park.”

Dixon pointed toward the gate further down the block where several SHPD were standing guard and talking quietly to each other.

“He went into the park?” Eric asked, cocking his eyes toward the witness.

“Called the police right after, five seconds later they’re all over the place. Must’ve been patrolling.”

“Sir, they roped off the park and posted at each entrance first thing,” the Silver Guardian said sharply to Eric. “But they didn’t sweep it.”

Eric’s eyes snapped open in realization and he shoved the pad roughly into his pocket and raced down to the nearest entrance of the park, one thing screaming in his mind.

The monster could still be in the park.

Eric shoved past the officers at the entrance, getting by without being tackled only because the other Guardian flashed credentials and informed them of Eric’s rank. The Guardian’s leader would have probably out stripped them anyway, his blood was pounding too hard and too fast. Eric sprinted up the brickwork path of the park, his eyes racing around the greenery, begging for a shadow between the trees or behind the hedges.

“C’mon, Damnit!” Eric snarled and slowly checked his pace, settling into a walk, his fists clenched hard as he approached the large fountain in the center of the park. “Damnit!” Eric snapped again, his eyes doing a final sweep before he grudgingly moved on toward the other side of the park.

His heart stopped for a second before snapping back into action.

A petite blonde was strolling casually along the brick path, engrossed in a paper back book. How the hell had she been missed by the police and the Guardians?

“Miss! Miss wait!” Eric barked and rushed forward.

The blonde stopped and looked back at him, large blue eyes blinking at him. Eric trotted toward her but slammed on the brakes when a shadow lunged from the hedge near her and swiftly wrapped her in a bear hug. The woman screamed at the top of her lungs and went rigid when a knife pressed tightly to her throat.

Eric swallowed heavily, still feeling the phantom blade at his own throat.

The man hugged the blonde closer, using her like a shield.

“Stop!” Eric roared.

“Move and I’ll open her up!” the male snapped back in a slightly French accented voice. He was thirty something with wide shoulders and very pale skin. There was a crazed haze in his eyes; he looked wild like a trapped animal. Eric was oddly reminded of a more extreme version of the witness, Dixon’s eyes.

“Let her go NOW!” Eric ordered and moved to take a step forward. The woman yelped and choked on sobs as the blade twisted into her throat.

Eric froze, even grudgingly stepped back. But as he retreated Eric snapped a command to his morpher and in a flurry of movement the Silver Guardians gear was replaced by the Quantum Ranger’s suit of deep red and black.

The offender and hostage went rigid for a second, staring at him in mild shock before the male hardened and the woman started whimpering again for help.

“What the hell was that?” Eric heard the male mutter either to himself or to the hostage before the animal growl fell back into place. “Cute trick, kiddo.”

“Let the girl go,” Eric ordered with a new level of authority.

“Eric!”

Damnit! Eric didn’t twist to look at the other five Rangers he knew were racing toward him.

“Stay back!” Eric snarled over his shoulder.

“BACK OFF!” the male's shout at the top of his lungs and the blonde's yelp stopped the other Rangers in their tracks. “Or I swear I’ll gut her!”

The blonde gave a violent jerk in the male's arms, his grip seemed to have slipped in his sudden confrontation with six brightly dressed Rangers. She elbowed him in the gut and broke away rushing to Eric and practically throwing herself into him. Eric instinctively wrapped his arms around her like a shield and tugged her back and further away from danger.

The male suddenly without leverage backed off, wild eyes flashing between them as the Rangers moved in to make the arrest.

“This is it?” a voice sneered behind them. The Rangers jerked around toward the voice and did a double take.

Standing on the brickwork path behind them, arms crossed tightly over his wide chest was a mirror image of the armed male ahead of them; the Rangers' eyes flashed from the doppelganger to the image they thought was the original.

“Twins,” Eric growled and pulled the blonde closer. The unarmed twin snorted through his nose.

“This is what Ransik was bitching about?” the second twin grumbled. “A bunch of kids in theme park costumes!”

The first twin snorted, making the Rangers swiftly turn toward him. The blonde yelped into Eric’s chest and made the Rangers' attention snap to their open sides. Four more males were closing in on their flanks. One looked like a teenager, there was a large black male and smaller, rougher white man and the “witness” Eric had spoken to, Dixon. The Quantum Ranger ground his teeth together and cursed under his breath.

Each of the four males prowled in, acting more like animals than humans. The Rangers distinctly heard low, predatory growls rippling from the four male’s throats. It sent buckets of ice water down their spines. Something about the gritty, animalistic men, humans, was more unsettling than being surrounded by Cyclobots and mutants.

“He’s absolutely pathetic. I’m going to have to slaughter him, no room for omegas,” the second twin growled.

“Who are you?” Eric snapped and backed up till he was only a foot away from Wes. The unfamiliarity of being surrounded by growling humans drove Eric back toward the other Rangers. The second twin flicked hollow eyes toward the Quantum Rangers’, Eric couldn’t see a strip of humanity in them.

“Boys. Angelique,” the second twin sniffed. “Have your fill, make sure they’re dead. No trash in the pack.”

The Rangers went deathly still as each male, including the twins, grinned. Human teeth overshadowed by rows of fangs that slid into place, faces twisting in demonic snarls and the growls pitched louder.

In his grip the blonde twisted to show Eric her own set of monster fangs. She bared her teeth in a grin before lunging toward his throat, her strength nearly overpowering him, he snarled angrily and gripped her shoulders as he planted his boot deep in her gut and kicked as hard as he could. She stumbled back and nearly fell, her eyes squinting and her mouth forming a grotesque image with her fangs exposed; Eric didn't wait for her to make another move, he whipped out his Quantum Defender and fired off a shot before she could attack again, but she jumped to the side quickly and the shot glanced off her left shoulder. She hardly seemed to feel it.

"Eric!" Wes called, his voice sharp with alarm.

Eric spun around just as Dixon lunged at him with a roar, slamming into him like a freight train, the momentum carrying them both to the ground, where they landed with a thud against the pavement and in a tangled heap. Dixon brought his arm back, then smashed his fist into Eric's helmet, shattering the visor and creating tiny cuts all around Eric's eyes; he grunted, the air escaping his lungs as Dixon hit him in the stomach, driving his fist upward and sending a sharp pain through his ribs. His protective suit softened the blow slightly, but not enough to keep him from gasping just a moment too long, giving Dixon another opportunity, one that he took. In a second, the stronger man's hands had encircled Eric's neck and began to squeeze, cutting off Eric's air supply with alarming speed—

A flash of red and white light as Wes brought his Chrono Saber down on Dixon's back, eliciting a cry of pain from him and forcing him off Eric, who lay on the ground, wheezing and taking harsh, painful breaths. Wes glanced at him, but Eric waved him away, managing a rough: "Get out of here" before lapsing into a coughing fit; Wes charged back into the fight, knowing he couldn't take time away to see if his comrade was okay. He grabbed his blaster out of its holster and fired into the chest of the blonde female, who was charging directly at him; the laser sent her falling back with a cry, but she was replaced by the youngest of the group, a boy who seemed no older than eighteen. He didn't look like much of a threat.

Without warning, the teen snatched something out of his belt and flung it toward Wes, who tried to side-step the attack but managed only to deflect it slightly; the sharp knife found it's target, embedding itself a good two inches in Wes' bicep. The pain was sudden and spread through his entire arm, feeling like fire; as he doubled over, gritting his teeth and preparing to remove the weapon, Jen took over his battle, landing a sound kick to the teen's jaw and snapping his head to the side. Her fist shot out and slammed into his cheekbone, her knee up and into his groin; she crouched low to the ground and swung her leg around, sweeping his legs out from under him and bringing him crashing to the ground. As he fell, she heard footsteps coming at her from behind, running, and swung around her blaster leveled at the figure; it was one of the twins, he smiled, it sent a tremor through Jen's body.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

He shrugged. "Death."

His eyes changed their focus, glancing over her shoulder. She took heed of the unintentional warning and spun around, bring her leg up in a windmill motion so that the heel of her boot caught the teen under his jaw; she felt hands gripped her arms right above her elbows, and braced herself, only to be thrown through the air. She landed against a tree and demorphed as she fell, gasping when something popped in her back and pain shot through her whole body; through blurry eyes, she saw Trip and Katie take on the twin that had disposed of her with such ease, only to be taken care of just as effortlessly. She looked sharply to Wes and Lucas, who were fighting valiantly against the blonde and the teen as Eric did his best to fight off Dixon; the blonde girl grasped Wes' neck, then tossed him aside, he crashed into the side of the fountain, then lay still. A second later, Lucas took a hard hit and fell to his knees; Eric was still fighting Dixon, struggling but holding his own, while Dixon hadn't even broken a sweat.

"Just too much for you, huh?"

Jen's head shot up and her eyes met those of the other twin, who was grinning, revealing bloody teeth; he took Jen by the arm, forcing her to her feet even as her back screamed out in protest and she nearly collapsed. Eyes flashing with defiance, Jen hacked up as much spit as she could and sent it flying right into his face, splattering on his cheek and in his eye; for a moment, he snarled in anger, but then amusement replaced that emotion. Still, he backhanded her fiercely, knocking loose a few back teeth and causing her to bite her cheek. Her mouth flooded with blood.

"It's going to take more than pretty costumes to get rid of us." Again, he hit her. This time, the punch was so severe she saw stars, and her knees grew weak, like rubber.

"That's what . . . they all say," she muttered.

He laughed, a sound that had always brought comfort to her, but now only brought on fear and apprehension; then he leaned in so close she could smell the blood in his mouth and feel his breath on her neck. "Silly little girl . . . " With a deep growl, he opened his mouth and aiming for her neck—

"Hey!"

With the sharp shout, an arrow pierced the man's chest, sticking through his layers of clothing and pressing against Jen, who let out a shocked cry before regaining her composure and managing to push her attacker off and to the ground. Standing behind him was the young man from the market, who held a crossbow and a face void of any expression till he caught Jen's eyes and recognized her; coming from behind him, were the two others that had been at the crime scene, a taller man with longer hair, and the woman, a black bandanna tied around her red hair. Faster than the three people were two streaks of animal, both racing for the nearest threat in the midst of the combat.

"Jesus Christ," the taller one muttered hastily, running and skidding to a stop next to Jen just as she started to collapse; he wrapped his arms around her while the woman swung a machete at the twin who'd been attacking Jen, the blade going straight for his neck.

The other twin caught sight of the battle and took off running just as the weapon was raised, reaching her barely in time and grasping her wrist as she brought it forward; with a noise that sounded like a snarl and a snort wrapped up into one, he ripped the machete from her hand and punched her in the nose. Her head was flung back and blood spurted from her nose, prompting a curse to escape from her lips.

Eric glanced over from his move-for-move match with Dixon, mumbling under his breath when he saw the turn of events; Dixon kicked him in the abdomen while he was distracted, cracking another rib or two, but he still managed to level his blaster and shoot it straight into the uninjured twin's back, bringing a gasp from the other: "Dominique!"

Dominique fell to his knees, but reached out with one hand and gripped the shirt of the woman, dragging her down with him where they continued their fight, rolling on the ground, growling like animals and clawing at each other, getting in as many punches as possible. "Celia!" the shorter of the two men yelled, snapping his leg forward and catching Dominique in the ribs.

Dixon rewarded Eric by throwing him into the ground and a renewed grip on his throat, trying to push Eric’s windpipe into his spine. The Quantum Ranger’s vision flickered and he managed a cracked rasp of air. Dixon’s fanged grin snarled down at him; then Eric felt his frame jerk as Dixon was literally ripped off of him. Eric sucked in a deep breath of much needed air and broke out coughing again. His head rolled to the side, toward what sounded like a titanic dog fight. Snarling, growling and screaming Eric made out the image of a blurry, white animal trying to rip Dixon apart. It took a second for Eric to register that it was a German Shepherd. The dog had a vicious hold on Dixon’s throat, mauling the monster before letting go when Dixon pounded his fist on the dog’s back. Snarling, the Shepherd lunged and tore into Dixon’s forearm, then shoulder before the monster finally landed a heavy blow deep into the white dog’s shoulder. The Shepherd yelped in pain and went rolling.

Eric rolled onto his side and started to shove himself up when Dixon launched back onto him, too late as Eric gained back his feet and into a defensive stance. The creature’s throat was mauled and his arm was dribbling dark blood, but he seemed totally unaware of his lacerated flesh and torn muscle. Eric watched as a few of the shallower gashes started to seal shut on their own.

Jen blinked slowly, trying to focus. She barely heard his voice as the man who was holding her up said: "I'm Sam . . . are you okay? Can you stand?"

Immediately she thought 'yes', but her legs still felt like jello and she could barely see a foot in front of her; nevertheless, she gripped a tree with one hand and nodded: "I'll be fine."

To assure him, she pushed him toward the battle, standing on her own; Sam gave her a concerned look for a moment, but his concern for the other two overrode his feelings and he charged back in, shouting "Dean" to warn the other man of a sneak attack. Dean whirled around, swinging his own machete and chopping off the head of the black man who was rushing him; blood rained down on Dean's face, the headless body collapsed. Dean doubled over, spitting desperately and wiping the liquid from his skin.

Trip shook his head violently, trying to clear it, twisting his eyes to where Katie was unconscious a few feet away with an ugly gash in her collar bone. Trip couldn’t make out if she was breathing. The Green Ranger twisted his swimming vision toward where Lucas was struggling to get back his feet. The young alien went rigid and panicked when a large hand wrapped around the back of his neck and yanked him up. Trip bit back a gasp of pain as his spine was twisted and he was forced to arch his back and keep a kneeling position. His heart lurched as the low, animal hiss rippled in his ear and rancid breath washed over his neck. Then it raised into a snarl and jagged teeth scraped across his skin before a ear splitting bark made Trip look forward. He caught the final leap of a black and tan German Shepherd. The dog’s flank slammed across his ear but the monster gripping Trip’s neck was bowled over backwards. Trip scrambled and rolled over. The dog backed up standing protectively in front of Trip, ears pinned back, lips drawn in a challenging snarl toward the male. He hissed back before his attention snapped toward Sam.

Sam lunged full on at the white man, rough-looking and about forty. Sam's fist connected with the man's eye socket, then another to his throat, but the acts didn't stun him at all so Sam stuck a bloody knife deep into his stomach; any color left in the male's face was drained, and he stumbled, growing weak and giving Sam time to grasp the machete Dean was handing him and swing it, neatly slicing off the man's head.

Celia was on her feet and matching Dominique in hand-to-hand combat, but eventually he got one up on her face and slammed his forearm into her throat. Coughing and gasping for air, Celia was forced to back down. But the fight was not lost. Dominique's eyes scanned the area, smirking confidently when he saw the Rangers laying on the ground, defeated; but then his smirk turned into a frown when he saw the headless bodies of two of his followers.

"Let's go!" he shouted, gesturing toward Dixon and the other two. He turned his attention back to Celia for a second and reeled meeting pure black eyes. Celia’s lips curled and she bared her own sharper than natural teeth and let out a low warning hiss. Dominique returned the sound before rushing to his twin’s side.

Dixon gave Eric a vicious backhand that sent him sprawling onto the ground, then took off toward Dominique, who was helping up his brother; Angelique and the teenager both laughed as they ran off. The whole fight couldn’t have lasted more than five minuets.

Dean and Celia turned to face each other, breathing heavily, bloody. "Sam?" Dean asked, his voice tense with worry as he looked around till he found the other man, who had returned to help Jen.

"I'm okay," Sam replied.

Celia gripped Dean's jaw and inspected his face closely, her black eyes fading back into red and narrowing in on the blood streaks that had run down his cheeks and onto his lips. "Get any in your mouth?" she asked, sharply.

"No . . . of course not," Dean growled, annoyed.