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Ninety years later...

Dark lips smacked as the maw chewed upon the severed, pale-skinned arm. Lieutenant Jessica A. Smythe watched the creature supping itself on the victim, face blank. Bile threatened to well up in her stomach, but she was a professional. She would never allow herself to be sick in front of her subordinates, especially when her radio was keyed to be live at all times during operations like these. The brass would never let her live it down if they heard her retching through the speakers in the air-conditioned offices where they allowed the backsides to grow soft.
She swallowed down another wave of nausea when she heard retching coming through her earpiece. Poor Alric. Jessica had been ordered, pretty much, to drag the scrawny, fresh-faced tech from Germany out with her team tonight for some much-needed field training. Until the point where his own stomach had rebelled, Alric had been doing an admirable, if rookie, job of carrying his own weight and keeping up with the rest of the team. "S-sorry," the boy said, his voice coming across after a few more dry heaves, "I-I couldn't help-"
Jessica shushed him quickly. "Keep off the 'net. Orders and responses only."
"A-aye, mum."
Jessica rolled her eyes. Alric had been living in the States for well on half a decade, but his accent and colloquialisms still had not changed. She may have been his superior officer, but he was only three years younger. She adjusted the focus of her binoculars. The creature had paused in its meal to pick its teeth with a shard of the victim's broken ribs. It was one of the smaller ones, thank the dead, roughly the size and shape of a ten year old child. That, however, was where the similarities between it and humanity ceased. The creature, like all its breed, had reddish-black, hairless skin, no genitals to speak of, misshapen useless wings, giant jet black eyes, a wide mouth full of shark-like teeth, and three-inch talons on all twenty fingers and toes.
"Get ready to move in and dispel it," she said over the net. Her team radioed their acknowledgements. Small as the creature was, it was more than strong enough, when unbound, to overpower four grown men. Her team consisted of six, well-armed men and women, a cleric, a widch, plus herself and, for tonight at least, Alric. Clerics provided protection for her team from the negative energy creatures and helped to dispel them once subdued. The widch was there if the cleric failed, was killed, or something /else/ decided to get involved.
"Move in. Use caution. Dispel with extreme prejudice."
One more unified acknowledgement over the 'net, and Jessica watched as six shadows, followed at a distance by three more, converged on the creature. Flashes of light: spelled-tranquilizer rounds impacting the creature's negatively-charged flesh. A warbling wail of unearthly surprise and rage. Silence. She lowered the binoculars as the cleric, widch, and Alric moved in, preferring not to blind herself with the brilliant flash when the cleric tore open a hole in the spiritual shroud to dispel the creature. A flash of bright light. Darkness. "Sir. Mission accomplished."
"Copy that," she replied. "Get the DedMeds in here to identify the victim and see if they can find out what happened. Call a cleanup crew once they're gone. No remains."
"Yes, sir."
Jessica turned off her radio and rubbed her eyes. This had been a bad night...Only one attack, but it was a bad one. Always was when they got loose. She sighed and gathered up her gear, retreating to the team's vehicles so she could be sick without anyone listening or watching...

Since the repeal of the 18th Amendment, the summoning of creatures from other worlds had changed from an illegal trade only practiced by the rich and corrupt in hidden chambers to a thriving, government-taxed industry accessible to anyone with the paper to pay for a brief fix. It quickly replaced alcohol, tobacco, and other substances as THE "recreational drug" for American society. And, while most summoning chambers were strictly regulated by government offices, there were always bootleggers, peddling less-than-safe tags and materials to the less financially stable of the country. When those summonings went wrong, and they often did, federal teams like Jessica's were called to step in and take care of mess.
The Federal Summoning Commission Response Teams were always well-trained; they had to be. One mistake could strengthen a lesser creature enough for it to evolve into something much, MUCH more powerful if it were to consume enough human flesh or soul. There hadn't been an incident in North Carolina, Jessica's operating theatre, since the 1920's, long before the creation of the F.S.C. Jessica didn't care to reveal it to her colleagues or superiors (though surely some of them knew), but one of her own great grandfathers had been partially responsible for that incident...

Description
body div#devskin0 hr { }

Ninety years later...

Dark lips smacked as the maw chewed upon the severed, pale-skinned arm. Lieutenant Jessica A. Smythe watched the creature supping itself on the victim, face blank. Bile threatened to well up in her stomach, but she was a professional. She would never allow herself to be sick in front of her subordinates, especially when her radio was keyed to be live at all times during operations like these. The brass would never let her live it down if they heard her retching through the speakers in the air-conditioned offices where they allowed the backsides to grow soft.
She swallowed down another wave of nausea when she heard retching coming through her earpiece. Poor Alric. Jessica had been ordered, pretty much, to drag the scrawny, fresh-faced tech from Germany out with her team tonight for some much-needed field training. Until the point where his own stomach had rebelled, Alric had been doing an admirable, if rookie, job of carrying his own weight and keeping up with the rest of the team. "S-sorry," the boy said, his voice coming across after a few more dry heaves, "I-I couldn't help-"
Jessica shushed him quickly. "Keep off the 'net. Orders and responses only."
"A-aye, mum."
Jessica rolled her eyes. Alric had been living in the States for well on half a decade, but his accent and colloquialisms still had not changed. She may have been his superior officer, but he was only three years younger. She adjusted the focus of her binoculars. The creature had paused in its meal to pick its teeth with a shard of the victim's broken ribs. It was one of the smaller ones, thank the dead, roughly the size and shape of a ten year old child. That, however, was where the similarities between it and humanity ceased. The creature, like all its breed, had reddish-black, hairless skin, no genitals to speak of, misshapen useless wings, giant jet black eyes, a wide mouth full of shark-like teeth, and three-inch talons on all twenty fingers and toes.
"Get ready to move in and dispel it," she said over the net. Her team radioed their acknowledgements. Small as the creature was, it was more than strong enough, when unbound, to overpower four grown men. Her team consisted of six, well-armed men and women, a cleric, a widch, plus herself and, for tonight at least, Alric. Clerics provided protection for her team from the negative energy creatures and helped to dispel them once subdued. The widch was there if the cleric failed, was killed, or something /else/ decided to get involved.
"Move in. Use caution. Dispel with extreme prejudice."
One more unified acknowledgement over the 'net, and Jessica watched as six shadows, followed at a distance by three more, converged on the creature. Flashes of light: spelled-tranquilizer rounds impacting the creature's negatively-charged flesh. A warbling wail of unearthly surprise and rage. Silence. She lowered the binoculars as the cleric, widch, and Alric moved in, preferring not to blind herself with the brilliant flash when the cleric tore open a hole in the spiritual shroud to dispel the creature. A flash of bright light. Darkness. "Sir. Mission accomplished."
"Copy that," she replied. "Get the DedMeds in here to identify the victim and see if they can find out what happened. Call a cleanup crew once they're gone. No remains."
"Yes, sir."
Jessica turned off her radio and rubbed her eyes. This had been a bad night...Only one attack, but it was a bad one. Always was when they got loose. She sighed and gathered up her gear, retreating to the team's vehicles so she could be sick without anyone listening or watching...

Since the repeal of the 18th Amendment, the summoning of creatures from other worlds had changed from an illegal trade only practiced by the rich and corrupt in hidden chambers to a thriving, government-taxed industry accessible to anyone with the paper to pay for a brief fix. It quickly replaced alcohol, tobacco, and other substances as THE "recreational drug" for American society. And, while most summoning chambers were strictly regulated by government offices, there were always bootleggers, peddling less-than-safe tags and materials to the less financially stable of the country. When those summonings went wrong, and they often did, federal teams like Jessica's were called to step in and take care of mess.
The Federal Summoning Commission Response Teams were always well-trained; they had to be. One mistake could strengthen a lesser creature enough for it to evolve into something much, MUCH more powerful if it were to consume enough human flesh or soul. There hadn't been an incident in North Carolina, Jessica's operating theatre, since the 1920's, long before the creation of the F.S.C. Jessica didn't care to reveal it to her colleagues or superiors (though surely some of them knew), but one of her own great grandfathers had been partially responsible for that incident...