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"Look at us...we look like a rag tag team of misfits. Are we? heh. Guess you could say we are. We are nothing more then a secret agency of the government that does not exist....technically. Okay so we have nothing to do with the government. We are as much with the government as the Marines are with making souffles with Martha Stewart. What's my name? Dunno. Just call me God's Right Hand or Righty, everyone else does. I'm actually left handed.

Okay so your probably wondering what what our sector's name ******** if I know its about 7 to 10 words long. How stupid is that? Eh? So we call ourselves D.O.W.S.H.E.I.L.D. Just know this, if Hellboy existed, I am his extenstion. Look at my men. Nothing, and I mean nothing makes them squirmy other then a poopy baby's diaper. They rather incinerated the damn thing rather then cauddle it...I'm so proud of them.

We got Boulder, as big and as tough as a boulder...hellova lot meaner too. However he's about as agaile as a dead elephant is with dodging bullets. He's massive, don't try getting him in a Mazda Miyatta. He sit on it, it go bye bye. He's my good old gattling gun toating fire bending phenominone. He is about the meanest SOB on my team.

Simone....My twitcher. This little girl, even though I'm the smallest on the team, twitches all the time till she locks herself into a computer. Then she looks like a normal human freak. She anchors her soul to particular space and times that we were in and she is out teleporter. Maybe that's why she twitches so much....She is so thinly streatched. Huh...s**t you learn.

White out. What other large black man do you see with solid white eyes. This b*****d is so chaulked full of intell that he could go on useless dumbass fact show and run it. He munched through Moby d**k in a half an hour, only cause he took a piss break...b*****d. I'm lucky if I get through a gossip magazine in an hour. However, with those white eyes, comes serious responsibility. He is our seer, he gets cryptic glaces into the future, then turns them into useful intel. Good for him, i would get frustrated and give up.

Ah....my sniper. Miss Black Raven. I tried to call her purple but she didn't like it. Go fig. She only has hair on the top of her head and one majorly long braid running down her back from her rat tail. I say go bald but she says that its too macho. Whatever, she looks like a man and acts like one, be one right? This white painted face with oozing oil black tar lips is my special prodject. She came across rather well. I found the most beaten down miserable kid with no future and brought her under my wing. She has became my marksman shooter along with telekinetic powers. I just love watching her blow through things. Not only is she that but she's our resident grenade launcher heavy arms girl.

'Billie' enough said with the name. She is one of my strongest and weakest members. She is deadly with her sword, however, with her sigils she is almost unmatched, however it is drawn out in her blood so she gets weak over time. She had almost as bad as black raven's childhood with one exception. Raven was being sacrificed when I saved her. She still has the scar on her neck. Billie, was being worshipped and pulled on.

Father Raw. He's as holy as Boulder's underwear when he eats beans. This killing machine is all business. Yes pleasure is business for him too. Still trying to figure it out but with what he can do, go for it. he has hand guns that could blow a man's upper torso from lower. He can excercise the deamons without holy water and mumbo jumbo, he can attack and steal souls only to use them for other attacks, and he can raise the dead. Very useful when your on point and there is a big son of a b***h with it's spiked tail through you. He's very useful.

Ross, our last member. He laughed at me when i asked him to join. He was the biggest skeptical b*****d come to man. He was a war vet, very decorated, I'm honored to have him here really. It wasn't till a mishap and him stuck in a Taliban safe house did he realize that he had something I needed. A healer. He can kill with the big boys but he can heal souls when they get damaged, raise the dead and cure curses. Like I said I'm glad he's on our side, especially since I wouldn't be able to kill my blood brother.

Then there is me. God's Right Hand. I am a mortal God. I can do anything except, besides poopy baby diapers, I have limits on how long that I can do something. That's the only thing that seperates God and I. Most call me a know it all. Nope that's White Out. A do it all. Sure I can do that, but don't think this is by my choice and I'm happy about it. It just tells me that HE'S awake and ready to try...for the last time so his army is going to be greater and his desire, stronger.

As for what we're doing? They all are sitting around and chatting while I'm just sitting here and smoking my cigarette wondering what happened to the Swiss team that went in and what is going to happen to us. I don't like changes to my team. Yes they can die as long as Ross, Raw or I are around, otherwise I pretty much have a problem with my crew dying. I don't like new recruits and I sure as hell don't like them retiring either. So what are we going to see? God's first attempt on life on this world and the horrible mistake that followed. I shouldn't bee telling you about this because its Top Secret, but I don't care we're going to our dooms.

According to certain Gnostic and Apocryphal texets, Before Adam and Eve was mad there was The Firstborn. God's first attempt of making a creation in his own image. The entity was not male nor female, dark nor light; but was a being that was beautiful and terrible to lay your eyes on. God saw what horrible thing he was making and unfinished he threw it away immediately to the abyss where it sat, stewing unloved.

However where he banished the being there was a small spot so powerful even God couldn't even get rid of it, so it festerd over the years. When it was powerful enough the lost city, the Craddle where all life started, reappeared to claim its birthright over the world. Legend says he will attempt 7 times and...well folks this is lucky number 7. I guess its lucky...When I was born they knew what was to come so I had been groomed for this day for my lifetime. Afterwards they don't care if you live or die; kill or save they just care if they get a percent of your money. Well with all these....gifts.....*coughcursescought* We should get it done as he will either get free free and rule the planet or we will kill him.

Here's another problem. Every time he comes back he takes more of a suvenior for himself. The more of our beautiful plant goes the less we get them for. First the Sumerians banished him first, then the Greeks, Romans, and Persians and so on. Now its my turn. Oh s**t...were here....wish us luck or swift deaths."

The group of rag team get out and everyone just walks. The very dominant way and strut. Going in a V shape they looked like they are going to kill everyone in their way as they reached a building. Putting in the passcode the huge round boulder moved aside. "How symbolic" "eh?" One of her teammates asked "When Jeasus died there was a heavy round rock in the way that the guards wondered how two women could move it. also the 7 thing is more of a christian thing. 777 is the holy number. As for what we're going for? We-" SHLUNK "s**t...already? wow...." as Righty slumped over dead, Ross got her alive as Boulder stepped up to pump it full of lead. Eyes slowly opening "Wow that's still a trip and a half...." coughing.

Cont part two....