Lobisón’s hero, JACKSON KELLER, tracks a pack of vicious werewolves to Sutter Creek, California, situated in the heart of the Sierra Nevada Foothills in Northern California. It may be a small, sleepy tourist town but what Jackson discovers in the surrounding forest is an eye-opener for him!
While following the signs of the beasts in the snow-covered forest, he is suddenly attacked by several giant Lobisóns. Armed with his rifle, trusty Bowie Knives and custom sidearm, Jackson Keller finds himself in the battle of his life!
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Lobisón - ‘Synopsis’
The lore & Legend of the Lobisón
The Lobisón – a werewolf-like biped beast – evolved from Argentinean folklore. Born the seventh consecutive son of a seventh son during the cycle of a red moon, their lifespan is infinite. They are enormous, intelligent beasts, far more powerful and vicious than the mythological werewolf. Although greatly resembling the werewolf, they do not continually transform from human to beast – once the beast, forever the beast, and they are unaffected by the moon. As lore has it there shall be six natural born Alphas, the first born in the fifteenth century, the sixth born in 1947 Argentina.
Now the curse of the Lobisón awaits what could be a seventh natural born Alpha, and the last of the bloodline. Is it possible the lore…was wrong? If so, then they shall roam the earth leading their voracious packs and prey upon mankind – until a dedicated and relentless hunter intervenes.
The Hunter
It is 1973, Vietnam – A bloody battle ensues at a small Marine outpost. The darkness of the night is lit by exploding mortar rounds and slap flares. Outgoing and incoming tracer rounds tear apart the jungle and kill young Marines; their bloodied and battered bodies lie everywhere. The stench of death fills the air as young JACKSON KELLER, 17, lies badly wounded and covered in blood. A Navy Corpsman named CHAVEZ tends to his wounds, his own eye covered with a bloody field dressing.
The jungle goes eerily silent when suddenly, Jackson watches as a VC enemy soldier charges straight at him but is suddenly jerked backward by some unknown force. Young Jackson hears the horror of animalistic roaring and growling like a pack of wild animals. He watches as the rest of his fellow Marines are ripped apart by gigantic biped beasts that swarm them. But one stops to look back at young Jackson – his fierce red and yellow eyes glaring. It moves back toward Jackson, roaring and growling when a chopper suddenly appears overhead. When Jackson looks back into the jungle the huge beast is no longer there – and he is the only Marine left alive.
Overwhelmed with revenge and steeped in bitter hate, young Jackson Keller begins his hunt. For years he tracks the beasts all over the world, however, all manner of weaponry he uses proves useless against them. Frustrated, severely suffering from combat survivor’s guilt and overcome with hate, he tracks a Lobisón pack to Europe. While there, he visits a library and conducts extensive research on Lobisón lore.
The many hours spent reading book after book prove fruitful for him. Now an adult, Jackson designs his own weapons and develops unprecedented hand-to-hand fighting skills. He is a big man, well over six feet five inches tall with a massive muscular frame. Jackson continues the hunt relentlessly, killing Lobisóns wherever he finds them.
However, Jackson has a problem. It is devastating and lingers deep within his soul and proves to be a persistent struggle for him. It is his intrinsic fear of the Lobisóns; an ardent, profound fear, especially for the one he nicknamed POPPA. The largest Lobisón of them all, Poppa is the first natural born Alpha, their king, and the one that attempted to attack Jackson in Vietnam – he is also the most vicious. It was Poppa’s pack that massacred Jackson’s fellow Marines, and his persistent struggle with fear of the beasts never relents. But Jackson makes a solemn and determined vow – he will fight through his fear, no matter what it takes, and kill them all leaving Poppa’s pack for last, and Poppa for his final kill. Either that, or Poppa kills him.
Jackson happens upon a gun shop whose owner specializes in handmade weaponry. He shows the gunsmith his specs for specially designed custom weapons. Now all he requires is a very special vehicle – one that will definitely aid in his escape from the charging beasts should the time arrive. Jackson Keller is now well prepared to continue his Lobisón hunt and killing spree.
Jackson tracks Poppa and his pack to the small southern town of Morgan Falls, Alabama where he meets the town’s steadfast SHERIFF MATSON, and the Medical Examiner, DOCTOR SHEILA MARTIN, a middle-aged beauty. However, Jackson’s arrival in MorganFalls does not sit well with BUBBA, the Sheriff’s lead deputy, who considers Jackson his rival for the affections of the lovely Doctor Martin.
Soon, townspeople are massacred. Jackson decides he must tell the Sheriff about Poppa and his pack of Lobisóns. However, his story falls on deaf ears and the Sheriff, Sheila and Bubba scoff at his tale of werewolf-like beasts roaming their county. But later on that same evening the Sheriff has an immediate change of heart when he and Jackson come face-to-face with a member of Poppa’s pack. The Sheriff watches with his jaw agape as Jackson, using only his huge Bowie knives, faces down the eight foot tall giant beast, and kills him.
But what is it that Jackson Keller discovers in MorganFalls that drew Poppa there?
Is it possible that a seventh and last Alpha Hominis Lobisón is about to be born when the lore predicted only six?
If so, then what can prevent Poppa from taking the newborn Alpha as he did the previous five?
Within this small southern town of Morgan Falls the unexpected and unexplained twists and turns will shock everyone involved.
But one thing is for certain – there will be a battle, a bloody battle, and it will be to the death. But the huge question remains – whose death will it be?
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Now that you’ve read the Synopsis for Lobisón and have a pretty good feel or insight for the storyline, let’s take a little ride with our hero, Jackson Keller, as he hunts Poppa, the Lobisón king, into Northern California – which is NOT in the book!
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“Jackson Keller & the Beasts of Sutter Creek”
It was during the summer of 1994 when Jackson Keller found himself in Sutter Creek, California, situated in the heart of the Sierra Nevada Foothills. Without a single doubt, the scenery was absolutely breathtaking – but Jackson wasn’t there for the view. He had tracked Poppa and his pack to that region of the country.
It was late in the day when he checked into a small Bed & Breakfast. In his room, he placed his gear on a chair and then peered out a front window. Although late, the town’s main street was still crowded with tourists. The ‘Old West’ style architecture, unique boutiques, antique shops and quaint restaurants were like magnets to tourists.
But Jackson wasn’t interested in the tourism or the town’s architecture. He was interested in what was surrounding the town – the foothills. It was there where he knew he would find Poppa and his vicious pack of Lobisóns. All the signs he followed for the past three months had brought him to that location. It was the unexplained horrendous murders, cattle mutilations and especially, the strange sightings. A rancher in Arizona swore he saw werewolves slaughtering his cattle. Another in Nevada told a local sheriff it was a giant wolf that killed his horses. But Jackson knew it was Poppa and his pack of beasts that were responsible.
On the following morning, Jackson had a good breakfast and then headed out for the base of the foothills. After parking his vehicle, he strapped on his custom made sidearm and huge Bowie knives. He put on his shoulder rig holding the six magazines for his sidearm. And lastly, his rifle, also custom made by the same genius who manufactured his sidearm and Bowie knives – a lethal combination of weaponry solely designed to kill Lobisóns.
It didn’t take Jackson long before he found signs; huge Lobisón footprints inlaid deeply into the earth’s morning dampness – Jackson knew he was close to the beasts. He cocked the lever on his rifle and followed the tracks deeper into the heavy woods.
Thirty minutes passed when he first heard the screams; agonizing screams filled with terror, horror...and death. He heard those same screams many times before…too many times. And all those terrifying screams resulted in horrible death.
Jackson hurried in the direction of the screams, weaving around huge trees and through dense underbrush; the screams getting louder and closer. In the near distance he could see the remains of two tents; both of them ripped apart. And then, he saw one of the beasts. It stood nine feet tall and weighed close to a thousand pounds. In its giant hands, it held a woman. She was covered in blood and the beast was ripping out her throat with its huge fangs, forever silencing her.
Jackson took aim with his rifle and squeezed off a round. The sound of the rifle firing was tremendous, and far different than the report of any other rifle. The beast was struck in its neck. So huge was the wound, that half its head was blown away. Blood and a green misty vapor poured from the gory wound as the Lobisón fell dead to the ground.
Jackson rushed to the camp site to find two other slaughtered bodies; both their heads torn off and cast aside. The beasts had been feeding on them when Jackson killed their pack member. But where were they now? And how many were there?
Carefully, Jackson unsnapped the sidearm’s thumb break. Then he withdrew the large, polished brass weapon currently loaded with a .44 magnum magazine. He stood silent, almost like a statue, and then slowly peered around the entire area. He listened closely for their breathing, and sniffed the air for their rancid scent. There was no doubt – the beasts were close at hand.
And then, he heard the deep, low growl of a Lobisón coming from his left side. Carefully, he turned and caught a brief glimpse of the beast hidden behind a large tree no more than twenty feet away. It was waiting for its chance to pounce, and kill Jackson.
Conversely, Jackson was not planning on dying. Instead, he aimed the powerful sidearm at the tree and slowly pulled back the hammer. The metallic clicking sounds of the hammer caused the beast to look ever so slightly around the tree’s trunk. But that’s all Jackson needed to see…just that small glimpse of the beast. He squeezed the trigger. The sound was so loud that it echoed throughout the heavy woods like a clap of thunder.
The round struck the edge of the tree’s truck and followed through the tree and directly into the face of the beast. It roared in agonizing pain; its head partially blown off, and hanging to one side by pieces of its own torn flesh. The beast lay dead on the ground with blood and green misty vapor oozing from its gory wounds.
Suddenly, Jackson heard an enormous roar – a Lobisón roar. It was directly behind him. He spun around, but it was too late. A giant Lobisón swiped the weapons from Jackson’s hands and growled. So close was it to Jackson, that he could smell its fowl breath. Its ugly, long fangs were dripping blood, and torn human flesh hung from them.
Jackson took a single step back and in a flash, drew one of his large Bowie knives; both made from solid silver. He was facing down the most dangerous beast to walk the earth with but a single knife to defend himself. However, he had done this before, many times before. “C’mon, you ugly fuck!” he screamed.
The giant beast roared angrily and swatted its enormous hand at Jackson’s face. Its fingernails were long and curved to a razor sharp edge capable of ripping and tearing away flesh with ease.
Jackson parried to one side and slashed out with his knife. It caught the beast across its arm; cutting it, long and deep. Blood and green mist poured from the grisly wound, and the beast reared back its large, ugly head and roared out in anger and unbearable pain.
It was the move Jackson waited for. As the beast’s head reared back, Jackson drove the knife deep into its gut; ripping upward. The Lobisón reached down with both its hands to grab the wound only to catch its own intestines spilling out from its frightening body. The beast’s large red and yellow eyes rolled back in its head and it fell dead to the ground with a loud thud – its innards splashed across its dead body.
Breathing heavily, and covered with the beast’s blood, Jackson spun around, looking for more of them to attack – and they did just that. Two more came running from the trees roaring and growling. The mere sounds of the beasts were enough to overwhelm a person with total fear for their entire life.
Jackson did not have time to bend over and pick up a weapon. Instead, he drew his second knife and went into his fighting crouch. As they attacked, Jackson slashed out with both knives catching the unsuspecting beasts across their thighs. They roared angrily but did not stop their attack on Jackson.
One Lobisón reached out and clutched Jackson by his throat, lifting him off the ground. Gasping for a single breath of air, Jackson stabbed the beast through its left ear. It roared, dropping Jackson. As he lay on his back, the second beast attacked. It grabbed Jackson by his jacket and picked him up like a rag doll. Roaring loudly, it threw Jackson violently against a tree. Jackson could not only feel, but he heard his ribs breaking. But he also knew he could not lay listlessly on the ground hindered by his severe wounds. Instead, he jumped to his feet and yelled to the beast, “Is that all you got?!”
The ferocious Lobisón attacked. In a split second, Jackson threw one of his Bowie knives directly at the charging beast, striking it in the chest. Taken by complete surprise, the Lobisón stopped, and looked down at the blade protruding from its hairy chest. As blood and smoke poured from the wound, it began gasping for air. It then slipped to its knees staring directly at Jackson as he approached.
Jackson stood in front of the dying beast and watched as it tried to raise its hand and pull out the huge knife. But it was too weak and close to death. Jackson drove the second knife directly through its throat. The Lobisón fell back onto the ground covered in its own blood. And then, in a final gasp, the beast was dead.
Slowly, and suffering severely from two broken ribs, Jackson walked to the other wounded Lobisón. Blood was pouring from its left ear as was the green smoke.
“Get up you fuck!” Jackson screamed at it. The beast roared and began to stand. Jackson backed up a few steps holding his Bowie knives in front of him. He was prepared to finish the deadly battle with the beast. But the beast could not stand. It fell back to the ground, growling in pain.
Jackson approached the dying Lobisón and kicked it violently in the wounded side of its head with his western boot. “Sonuvabitch!” he yelled just as the beast roared in pain. Jackson knelt down beside the beast and drove a blade directly into its face, instantly killing it.
Later that same evening, Jackson stepped from the shower and dried himself with a heavy towel. Then he wrapped a gauze bandage tightly around his chest and secured it. Jackson was exhausted and fell on the bed, too tired to even dress. As he lay there, listening to the sounds of the heavy rain fall outside, his thoughts were of earlier that day…the death and destruction – the loss of more human life to the beast’s horrible wrath.
He was close to sleep when he first heard it. Through the heavy rain, Jackson could hear an almost tapping-like sound against a front window. Curious, he stood and walked to the window. Jackson pulled aside the window covering and was immediately frozen in place. Staring through the rain-splattered window directly at him was the enormous face of Poppa, the king of the Lobisóns, and his fiercest enemy.
The sight of Poppa was frightening to Jackson but he never moved, nor did he show Poppa any fear. And across the top of Poppa’s head was a graying mane, thus his nickname from Jackson. Poppa’s piercing red and yellow eyes narrowed; his breath, fogging the window.
Slowly, Poppa opened his huge, gapping jaws and exposed its enormous fangs to Jackson. And then, Poppa did exactly what Jackson had dreamed of for years. But they weren’t really dreams…they were nightmares…the same nightmare Jackson suffered from over and over again.
Poppa roared. It was a mighty, powerful king’s roar that filled Jackson with so much fear, he would awaken, screaming helplessly in the darkness of night.
But still, Jackson did not waver. Instead, he took a single step closer to the window and stared directly into Poppa’s frightening eyes. Once again, Poppa roared, then turned and ran off. Jackson moved quickly to his chair and removed his sidearm, charging the weapon.
Jackson Keller lay back on the bed with the weapon held tightly within his grasp. And as he slowly began to drift away into a deep, albeit restless sleep, he knew the day would arrive when he would once again face down Poppa – and it would be in a fight to the death.
I hope you enjoyed this free insight to my new book Lobisón readers, and will decide to purchase the book and enjoy the complete story! There will be two sequels to Lobisón that continue where the first book ends.
Finally, look for another of my horror books that will be arriving soon from Wheelman Press entitled ARCHANGEL…you’re gonna absolutely love it as well as Lobisón!
Tuffy
