Wolfgang „Wolf“ von Krieger
“No, Mr. von Krieger you will not be the Captain of the ship nor will there be time for fun and games. There is work to be done.”
A feeble attempt at making static sound filtered through the receiver of Abe’s phone. Wolfgang was intent upon claiming plausible deniability of his responsibilities concerning this trip. Sure, maybe he was breaking the rules by intentionally drowning out the sound of Abe’s voice, well in all honesty that was not possible, his ears were so sensitive that even with the phone turned down to the lowest volume possible he could still clearly understand the words spoken, but he could always feign ignorance with the best of them.
“What’s static sound I can’t static sound losing recpet-static sound” With the end of the charade he finally hung up his phone and tossed the brick away. Maybe in a few years these cellphones will be a bit more convenient, but at the moment they’re just a nuisance. Sure it was expensive, but it’s not like I paid for it. Indeed the portable phone was just one of many perks he had this Abe person purchase for him before he agreed to take any work from the man. What he just did could be considered both wasteful and rude, sure, but it was not like he needed this job or anything. It definitely would help pay for his monthly quelling, but by no means could you say he depended upon this extra income.
The sound of flip-flops plodded along loudly as Wolfgang strolled down the docks towards his intended destination. By the looks of his you might assume Captain Ron was setting sail on yet another epic voyage, what with the unbuttoned button-down tropical shirt flailing in the breeze, white captain’s hat tilted off to the left, and comfortable shorts revealing a pair of muscular yet very pale shanks. Well, you might think I was Captain Ron if Kurt Russel was ten times as handsome and did not wear a patch in the movie! The German engineer guffawed loudly at his joke, surely anyone would have if they had been nearby, and threw his head back in merriment as he continued along happily.
On his right side was being carried a rather large duffle bag with a rather odd assortment of supposed necessities carelessly tossed inside, almost as if the traveler had merely scooped the items from a large bin. He had brought with him several changes of clothes, all very comfortable once might notice, several hygiene related items, of course, several magazines ranging from mathematics to pornography, all very necessary of course, and there also happened to be a large assortment of lubricant and condoms strewn about as well, just in case.
The salty-air stung his nostrils as the scent nearly over-powered his delicate sense of smell, but that was not the only lingering scent on the air. Whenever the wind blew his direction the werewolf would catch the scent of two individuals up ahead, one was obviously human, but the other was something else entirely. The strange one smelled of…death, oddly enough as that may be. His employer had informed him that he would be working with other supernatural beings, ranging from vampires to what have you, but he was never told they would smell so…repulsive!
Ach mein Gott, at least the salt will take away from that disgusting smell.
Luckily the docks were not a massive construction; it only took him a few short minutes to reach where he wanted, and when Wolfgang approached the two others who had arrived so far he was rather amused. The human was very thin, all skin and bones as they said here in America, but not much shorter than Wolfgang himself. He had a strange look about him, and a sense of danger pervaded from his scent, like he was a seasoned killer who did it for the thrills. The other, the dead smelling one, was actually a somewhat attractive female. Sure, she smelled awful, was extremely thin and frail looking, and didn’t seem very friendly to tell the truth, but Wolfgang’s shorts began to tighten up very quickly.
A broad grin spread across his face as he continued towards his two new associates and proceeded to seat himself next to the woman. His nose visibly crinkled up as the pungent odor was so blatantly obvious, but there were more important things to worry about right now, like the loss of blood from his brain. “Hello my little Liebschen, my name is Wolfgang von Krieger. Would you care to play fetch?“