A Glimmer Of Truth

Chapter 19 A Crafty Maniac

The Werewolves of lore are the crafty ones. The vampires live lives of excess the werewolves live with only what they need. It didn't take long for the vampires to start taking from the werewolves. Then they did something else, they started turning their friends. Ordinary folk are what they call them but they may as well be Humans. The werewolves have taken care of them since the Miratelli Family started the culling. Now any humans lose free will and any ability to think for themselves when they are taken by the vampires.

The clear winner is the vampires. The werewolves, on the other hand, have a rather proactive plan. All they needed to do was get into the Miratelli cellar, plant some bombs on the foundation then get out and watch it crumble. That was Garland and Bronson's plan, at least.

"Garland Is named Garett here," Glimmer informed Elenor.

"Garett Miratelli, actually." Garrett offered with a little shame.

Bronson put his hands on Garett's shoulder, "The only trustworthy one. Not only that but also the man with the plan." He said before he looked at Glimmer. His eyes got big, before continuing, "We're gonna blow them up." he said as his eyes grew in size.

"How are you going to get in?" Lanna asked.

"Garett, here, showed us to some sewer tunnels that run beneath The Miratelli Manor. It just happens to run by the patriarch's main room." Bronson was practically levitating.

"Not only that but the supports for the main structure are in the same room. A few bombs and the whole house comes down." Garett said as he slapped what looked like a pile of bricks, on the table next to him.

"Those are bombs?" TJ said shocked.

"Yes, however, they must be placed and detonated individually." He started walking directly to a nearby structural post, to demonstrate. "After you place them we must light a fuse and get the hell out." For the first time, Glimmer saw that Bronson had a sophisticated prosthetic arm. Last Glimmer saw he recalled, Bronson had them both.

"Count me out, I'll go get Mom," TJ said. opening the door. Lanna followed him out.

"Garett here filled me in on what you're planning," he paused his face ached with concern. "What you plan to do will upset the fabric of reality, Joining The Existence and The Journey... Glimmer it will change everything. The consequences will be drastic."

"I didn't lose Glint in The Existence, and guide the golden dragon across The Journey, only to stop here Bronson." He said looking at Elenor.

He stretched out his false arm, for a handshake. "Garett, says you prefer the common man's greeting. Please to meet you Elenor."

Elenor was blushing, "It's a pleasure to meet such a kind gentleman, with such a bold plan."

Two older women came into the small workshop. One had a basket of fruit and the other had a pitcher containing a yellow liquid, and some glasses. The one with the fruit was a tall woman dressed all in black to match her black hair, and she was built like a truck she started handing out the fruit saying "Anyone Hungry?" Bronson took a small bundle of grapes and began picking at them

The one with the drinks was a small woman her hair various shades of auburn, her eyes got big when she saw the small pile of bricks and bombs. They set the drink down next to them and lifted them inspecting the handiwork. "These will do just fine," she said, then began pouring some drinks into the glasses she bought.

Garret began the introductions, his arm around the short one. "This is Dani with the drinks and the one bringing us the food there, Is Rogue. Ladies you remember Prince Glimmer," with a deep reverence he introduced Elenor "Elenor the Golden Dragon of Greed and Power."

Bronson was staring at Elenor, "My Lady Elenor may I ask your blessing for this mission."

This took Elenor aback "You don't need my blessing, but you can have it if it means something to you." a warmness flowed through her voice.

"So are we going to blow up those idiot vampires or are we going to stand around snacking and sniffing each other's scents," Dani said eager to explode something, at the forefront of her mind. Her eyes affixed to the pile of bombs.