After Richard was dropped into the depths of the artifacts collection of souls, the Goddess- in the real world turned to Cindy.

<We have company>

Responding to the words of the Goddess, Cindy’s atmosphere changed. The young witch who showed an attitude of youth somehow became more mature. Her gaze that was carefree had turned serious as she asked.

"Wasn’t this supposed to be secret? Are they mystics?"

<No, just regular humans, but they are heavily armed for a bunch of detectives>

"... what do you want me to do?"

Cindy turned her gaze towards Richard who was stuck in a trance.

<Deal with them, I’ll handle the contents of the container>

"And the bike?"

*Yamaha Vmax engine roars*

<The boy has an abnormal attachment to certain things. I’ll leave the kids to you, is it alright if I send everything to your house?>

The young witch paused, she looked at the filthy ground outside but did not even try to argue with the Goddess.

"The house belongs to him, I’m just a squatter"

The Goddess smiled at her word as black characters of unknown origin seeped out of her body, they spread out enveloping the whole container.

Cindy watched the Goddess for a moment before turning her attention towards the entrance. Her gaze looked off into the distance and within her mind, an image was reflected.

The sight of all the animals and bugs within the vicinity were overtaken. Cindy watched as men dressed in various "streetwear" combed through the dumpsite. Some who were near the motorcycle that suddenly turned on without warning immediately looked around in panic.

Some of them took out a radio and started to send messages to their companions.

"Lead them here, I’ll bury them in filth"

<Oh? You won’t feed your babies?>

"Who would waste time pulling dead bodies from a mountain of trash? Even if they did, who would bother searching for a few missing bodies after spending so much time digging out a few?"

<I wonder what the boy would say if he saw you now?>

The Goddess commented as she watched the young witch summon three aberrations.

Humanoid monstrosities standing over two meters tall, their height and size were so large that they had to manifest outside the container.

Their skin was a dull gray with dark patches nearing black all over, looking closely, one would immediately notice that the skin looked less like normal skin and more like cured leather.

Their bodies were clad in loose fitting animal hide and they all wore different animal skulls over their heads.

If Richard could see them, he’d immediately notice that the skulls were larger than normal... it wasn’t the skull of a regular animal... it came from something else.

Moreover, the appearance of the beings summoned by Cindy were oddly similar to a certain mythological being that has grown famous in recent years.

<I knew it was odd, for you to shape the homunculi host in such an inhuman form, quite creative of you>

"You praise me Goddess, I merely took advantage of the growing popularity of folk tales, legends and myths. I didn’t even need to use any resources in building a story, the internet did it for me, all I had to do was look for the most common form"

Cindy directed her gaze at the three beings she had summoned, their form, if seen by anyone not involved with mystics would immediately see the three as "Wendigo’s", some may even confuse it for Skinwalkers.

Tales of tall, skinny beasts with humanoid forms and animal heads- commonly deer heads have become the "common folk tale" amongst the people of America.

It would be quite difficult to find someone unaware of the legend and that tale, the idea that shaped it is what Cindy used.

She did not need to sacrifice too many people, she did not need to waste too much resources. The very existence of the beings she created would grow as more people learned of the "mysterious monsters in the woods".

<Don’t leave a trace>

"Don’t worry, this isn’t the first time I created a ghost story"

With a smile Cindy directed the three beings to target the "enemies" who had chased after Richard. Her orders were simple: devour a few, leave one or two alive and the rest are to be killed and buried a mountain of trash.

After receiving their orders, the three monsters melded into the shadows and vanished leaving Cindy and the goddess to deal with the storage container.

*engine sounds*

"Oh, that’s the bike"

<Get ready, after I finish the spell, the container and everything inside will be sent back to your house>

"Please send it to the backyard"

– – – – –

At the entrance of the Junkyard, two men stared blankly at the motorcycle that was driving itself into the mountains of rubbish.

"When did the VMAX have a self-driving function?"

A man with blonde hair and blue eyes asked his buddy as he watched his dream bike vanish into the junkyard.

"It’s obviously that billionaires tinkering, the file did say that he fancied himself as some sort of, "IRL T*NY ST@RK", he has a billion dollar AI company... still, he rejected the Pentagon’s request for autonomous fighting vehicles and instead spends all that money and capability in making a self-driving motorcycle"

The man’s buddy, a black haired man with a caucasian looking face that one could see anywhere, complained.

"Well if you ask me, I’d take a real life Thomas the tank engine than a t-800. At least, if his AI becomes a real life skynet, I won’t need to worry about robocop shooting me for littering"

The blonde man said as he let out a sigh, he thought he’d get a chance to drive the VMax after they apprehended Damien.

"You know, even self-driving cars could be fucking scary, imagine getting trapped in a car and the AI starts to go crazy and drives into oncoming traffic... I’d expect you to get scared of that before anything else... Roadkill"

The caucasian man teased the blondie who immediately shot back-

"Call me by my name!"

"Sure SS"

"..."

The blonde man glared at his partner who let out a laugh as patted the man on the back and as he followed up.

"Come on Steve, I know you’d prefer to get called Cap but you aint got that American Ass"

*slap*

The man’s hand that was patting the blonde man’s back suddenly moved to slap his ass.

The blonde man’s name is Steven Smith, a retired veteran who ended up getting dragged into the FBI due to his young age and service background. Of course, while civilians would be told about the "heroics" a veteran achieved, his fellow vets would only recall the funny stories that one made.

There is a saying, a medal of honor lasts one night but a funny mistake would last a lifetime.

Unfortunately for Steven, he not only made many mistakes in his career, he also had the easiest name and appearance to make fun of.

His brutally blonde appearance and his name "Steven" made him the but of jokes when Marvel came out with their movies.

An accident that nearly got him run over by an MRAP gave him the nickname "Roadkill".

Then, when he tried to argue out his nicknames, people shortened his name to "SS", making a fun joke for his buddies who would radio in during a firefight with "We need the SS!!" or "Stop the SS!".

"Why the fuck do those jokes follow me even in the FBI..."

"Because our whole unit was taken in together"

"..."

Unfortunately for Steven, his military background that got him a job in the FBI also became the reason why his buddies were brought into the same unit and with his buddies came his "Legends".

What should have been an inside joke among squad members became a division wide meme.

Though he was not the only one who had "Legends", his were by far the funniest.

"Tsk- damn it, fuck... let’s just follow the-"

Steven did not want to talk about his history any longer, wanting to escape the jokes, he tried to lead the conversation elsewhere but he suddenly felt a chill run down his spine.

"What’s up? The bikes driving to it’s owner so all we gotta do is follow it right?"

The caucasian man asked the moment he realized that Steven stopped walking.

"No... it’s just... I suddenly remember Kellin"

"Emperor? What got you remembering him all a sudden? His death anniversary is months away"

Steven paused, he took a look at the junkyard, the feeling of unease continued to grow the longer he stared.

"No... it’s just- the old man told me to always trust my instincts, said he blessed me or something"

"You know Kellin was quite the... believer right?"

"Yeah... but- ever since he died, I always had this feeling of unease pop up whenever something bad happens"

Steven recalled the moments where his "guts" saved his ass.

The one time when he felt like he had to go back inside his apartment, he thought he was missing something but he had everything on him. Yet, only moments after going back in, a flowerpot fell right in front of his door.

There was also that one time where he wanted to test out a cheap bike at an auction. The moment he got close, he had a sudden bad feeling and asked the seller to show him how to drive it and the bike basically exploded the moment it was turned on.

Shoddy repairs had apparently caused a leak which caused the engine to blow, the seller did not survive.

"Come on, are you really going to believe that "bad feeling" is some kind of sixth sense?"

Steven did not let his partner’s words get to him.

"Let’s radio in the self driving motorcycle to the guys"

His partner rolled his eyes before taking out a radio and calling in, but the moment he did.

*static*

"This is Reaper, a self-driving motorcycle just entered the site, does anyone have a visual?"

The man continued to repeat the question but the radio only returned static.

"That fuck?"

The pair spent a couple minutes waiting for a response and then-

*static*

The radio erupted to life, the line connected but what they heard was-

"Monster... run-"

A weak voice, one that they were familiar with. It was one of their buddies but the life in his voice was slowly fading.

The reaction of the two differed.

Steven was rattled but his partner-

"Shit!"

The caucasian man immediately changed the channel on the radio and shouted-

"SHOT’S FIRED! SHOT’S FIRED! MULTIPLE OFFICERS DOWN! REQUESTING BACKUP IMMEDIATELY!"

It wasn’t the secured channel used by the agents but a public channel set for emergency calls.

They weren’t expecting any type of resistance but SOP calls for preparations "should the worst happen".

What they were experiencing was the worst.

"Steve! Back me up!"

The caucasian man exclaimed as he rushed into the Junkyard but Steven didn’t follow him.

He tried to but he felt a hand grab his body, it was like something was stopping him from moving forward.

Run away

A familiar voice whispered to him and just as it did-

"AAAAAHHHHH!!!"

Steven returned to his senses and when he did, the sight that he saw before him shattered his mind.

His buddy who rushed into the Junkyard was being ripped apart by three monsters. He didn’t know what they were but they were huge and covered in blood.

It didn’t take an astrophysicist to realize what kind of shit happened but even then-

Training took over as his mind blanked, Steven reached out for his gun but-

No... you’ll die

"But!"

Live Steven... live

The moment those words echoed in his mind, Steven regained control, his hand that was about to reach for his gun moved.

He rushed towards his car and just as he entered it, the three monsters already finished tearing his buddy to shreds.

Fortunately, the key was not taken out and the car was started immediately, yet the sound of the engine starting grabbed the attention of monsters.

*GRAOOOO*

*GAAAOOOO*

*AAAOORRGGG*

The monsters let out weird roars which almost froze Steven but something made the lights flash.

It was the middle of the day yet the lights shone like it was the middle of the night.

Even Steven got momentarily blinded but that flash saved him as the moment he came to, the monsters were gone- but so was his buddy.

Steven did not let himself get overtaken by emotions as he immediately floored the accelerator as he made a quick U-Turn and drove the hell away.

– – – – – – –

<Hm?>

"What is it?"

<The power that protected this container, it protected one man">

"... did he have a camera?"

<None>

"Let’s just say he’s the survivor"

Such a conversation happened in the container moments before it vanished from the junkyard.

After it disappeared, the mountains of trash buried the mangled remains of various people, men and women alike.

Total Death Count: 31

Survivor Count: 1