A short story written by Todd Kelley
He Be Judged
Gregory was dreaming. Gregory was dreaming. He knew it was a dream.
He didn’t care. It was going to be one of those dreams he would wake dripping with sweat and a massive erection. He had them every couple of weeks since he had gone into hiding.
This time, it was an incident from maybe seven years ago. He was in that old house across the street from that white trash dive bar in Rocky Hill, Connecticut.
He was in the basement. He’d laid the clear plastic out on the floor perfectly. All the furniture and equipment in the room had been covered and taped properly. Once again, he was certain there’d be no trace evidence. The police had searched his previous home in Norwich 4 times. He had gotten lucky. The law wasn’t very thorough those days. But it was a close enough call for him to change locations.
Here in Rocky Hill, he had just set up shop. This was his third guest in as many weeks. He had thought his set up was too good to be true. Trashy drunk women would stumble out of that bar before midnight. Most would have a ride or call a taxi. But there was a few. Just a few who convinced themselves they could just walk along the highway and hitchhike their way home.
That’s where he met Mandy.
When he pulled up alongside her and asked if she needed a ride somewhere, he could barely make out her inaudible slurring. She stank of Bailey’s Irish Cream. She even had spots of creamy white splashed on your tight red shirt and her black lace bra peaking from out of the top. When he told her to get in, she muttered a few words and nearly tripped off of the curb trying to climb in the passenger seat.
And now, here she was. Mandy.
Sitting in his fun room. His house of pleasure.
He had her tied firmly to his favorite chair and black electrical tape across her mouth. He made sure not to cover her nose because he didn’t want her to suffocate. That would be too easy.
She was barely conscious. Her head bobbed every once in a while and she tried to mumble something from behind her taped lips. He sat across from her in an identical chair.
These were the moments he cherished the most. The calm before the storm. The foreplay. The kill would be over in a matter of seconds. It was the anticipation that drove him crazy. He licked his lips, observing her heaving chest. Her breathing was irregular. When she coughed he was afraid she would vomit, and with the tape across her mouth, she’d surely suffocate.
He didn’t realize he was drooling. He wiped his moist mouth with his calloused hand. The rough jagged edges of his crusted skin scraped across his mouth and chin. He licked his lips once again as he rose to his feet and approached the incoherent Mandy. He bent over until he was almost face to face with her slouching head.
He gently brushed the stray strands of hair from the left side of her face and pushed them behind her ear. Now he could see her entire face. And judging by the movement of her eyebrows and the rapid fluttering behind her eyelids, he knew she was waking up. He braced himself for the moment her eyes opened. He waited for her stare to widen when she realized what was happening.
Her fear would wash over him like an orgasm. His pants throbbed in anticipation.
Her eyes slowly opened and her vision locked with his.
And then he woke up.
“Greg!” was the first word he heard when his eyes opened. He jumped, startled.
“Greg! Take out the trash! It’s after midnight!” A familiar voice cried from behind him.
His vision adjusted and the site of his television replace the gaze of Mandy. He realized that the dream was over. He was back on his couch, still in his work clothes. He had come in from the gas station, had a beer to watch the news and nodded off to the sweet memory of Mandy in his basement.
And then she woke him up.
“I’m getting sick of having to tell you every goddamn time to take out the trash before dark! You know we have a critter problem!” His wife Justine bellowed at him like a broken record.
He wanted to jump up and grab her by the throat, or he’d grab her head from behind and twist it with all his might. The pleasure of hearing her neck snap would probably be worth having to leave San Francisco.
He’d buried twenty four beautiful bodies in his eight years of fun. It wouldn’t be prudent to kill his camouflage wife and bring attention to himself. After all, he’d done the impossible. He’d gotten away with mass murder.
But still, he smiled at the thought of her head falling limp over her body after breaking her neck.
He could still hear her arguing to herself in the bedroom when he grabbed the two large black garbage bags she had tied close and left next to the back door.
“And please remember put the lids on tight! The dogs are getting into the…”
He stepped outside and closed the doors before he could hear her finish her rant.
The wet, biting cold hit him in the face immediately. He thought about going back in quickly for his jacket, but realized he’d have to hear her mouth again. He wanted to delay that as long as possible.
He crossed the small backyard grass and reached the tall wooden back gate door. He jiggled the small metal handle until the door swung inwards, revealing the darkened alleyway.
His wife called out from the house again.
He quickly stepped into the alley and shut the door behind him.
A moment of peace was upon him. He stood where he was for a second and took a deep breath and enjoyed the nothingness that was the alley. It stretched for as far as the eye could see in both directions. It was faintly lit by the luminance of light coming from the houses that ran parallel on both sides.
Greg had walked six houses down to the mass of grey, blue and green garbage and recycle bins that were crowded in an empty lot where a house use to be. It was an unwritten rule that this would be the only place the garbage men would pick up trash. This would cut down on the time the large idling trucks would be in the area at 4 in the morning.
He reached a long row of grey garbage bins and started the tedious task of opening each one to find room for his garbage. He held his breath the entire time.
He finally found room in the seventh bin he checked. It was half full but there was still plenty of room for his two bags. Or at least he’d make the room. He swung the first bag up and over the bin and brought it crashing into place. The second bag needed a little help to fit. He lightly pressed in, pushing the second bag down until it was level with the top of the bin.
As he pulled the lid down and started to make his way back toward the house, he managed to look up to his left and see that a window on the third floor the house opposite to the garbage lot. The light was dim but still managed to radiate the darkened alley. In the window, there was the face of what seemed to be a little girl. He thought she had to be around 5 or 6 years of age. He could barely make out her blonde ponytails and the pink ribbons that held them.
He was about to wave to her, but then noticed that she wasn’t looking at him. She was frozen, staring down the alleyway toward his house. Greg followed her gaze, which in fact was directed at his very gate. It wasn’t the gate specifically. It was the silhouetted figure that stood in front of it.
A cold shiver washed over Greg. He stopped in his tracks to try and let his brain register what he was seeing and his eyes adjust to the dark. Firstly, he was convinced his eyes were playing tricks on him. Even though there was ample light radiating down the alleyway, he couldn’t see any definition in this figure. But the bushes next to him, the old newspaper page beneath his feet– they had color and detail. It was ash if he was looking at the shadow of a silhouette.
Another thing was the size of this figure. Grey knew that his back gate was nearly eight feet tall. He remembered measuring it when they first moved in to make sure prying eyes couldn’t see his backyard without effort. Staring at this figure, it almost looked as if the top of his head was parallel with the top of the gate.
But that was impossible.
The tallest men in existence were barely over seven feet. It had to be some type of optical illusion.
Everything inside of Greg screamed for him to run. Every fiber in his being told him the situation was not in his favor. But he knew that feeling all too well. He’d had it more than a few times before he abducted his subjects. That feeling excited him. It was part of the hunt.
And that’s when he realized that he was in fact the hunter. He was the predator. He was the man who’d captured and killed over two dozen victims. If anything, this shadowy figure needed to fear him. The silhouette’s inner voice should be telling him to turn and walk the other way.
Greg started to walk toward the figure, a grin slowly creeping across his face.
As he grew closer, he looked up at the little girl’s house. She had since disappeared from the window, the light turned off and the curtains closed.
Good. He didn’t need to have witnesses to what he was going to do.
A few paces down the alley, Greg saw what seemed to be a discarded crutch leaning against his neighbor’s gate. One of the screws of the middled handle was missing, so the bar dangled to one side. He maneuvered himself toward it and grabbed it as he passed by. The ice cold metal was wet and slippery from the night’s dew. But Greg’s grip was firm. This would work fine as a weapon.
He didn’t totally lift the crutch. He let it drag along the ground. The rubber sole at the bottom had worn off, so the metal bottom scraped against the dirt and gravel alley floor. The sound echoed in the silent night.
“Is there something I can help you with?” Greg called out playfully.
He didn’t want the stranger to answer. He wanted the confrontation. It had been so long since he tasted another’s blood. He preferred young women. It was always paramount that he had a sizable advantage in the confrontation. But the crutch would be the great equalizer this time. He could beat the stranger bloody, call the cops and be a hero for protecting the community.
“I said.. can I help you?” Greg said again, pulling the crutch off of the ground and getting a firm grip.
He was about 5 yards away by this time. It was at that moment that he realized this figure was in fact the same height at his gate. And even thought he was a mere steps away from him, he still couldn’t see the figure. It was still a silhouette. Light seemed to disappear within it, like a black hole.
His brain tried to process what he was looking at. There still was more things that were off. The height and lack of light was weird already, but there seemed to be even more wrong. It was as if whoever or whatever it was, it didn’t belong there. Not just there. But anywhere. It didn’t seem to fit at all. It was as if someone had taken a pair of scissors and cut away whatever was suppose to be standing there.
Greg stopped a couple yards away. He looked up at where it’s face was suppose to be.
There was just blackness.
Greg gripped the crutch in both hands.
“I don’t want any trouble.” He said. He meant for the words to come out more forcefully, but his voice cracked. He wasn’t use to facing someone bigger than he was. He was out of his element.
He gripped the crutch tighter. He had to muster up enough courage to get into his gate.
“Say something!” Greg said, this time with a little more bass in his voice. He was a fraction of a second away from wielding the crutch. He realized it would be better if he struck first. He’d have to catch the larger man off guard if he were to gain the upper-hand.
What came next was unexpected.
The figure spoke. But it was more than speech. In fact, there was no sound. Only the force of vibration that seem to hit Greg like a speeding car. There was no actual sound, but Greg heard every word. It was as if he were standing in front of an enormous subwoofer.
“JUDGEMENT.” The Thing continued to bellow.
Greg’s knees buckled from the force.
He heaved his empty stomach outward. He felt out-of-breath like he was punched in the stomach. His fingers convulsed as if he was hit with an electric shock. The crutch went falling to the alley floor.
“Oh, God…” he said trying to keep his-self standing. His world was like vertigo and the Thing continued to say that single word.
And as Greg reached down to retrieve his crutch to defend himself, he realized the last strange thing that was bothering him. As his hands gripped the crutch, he noticed that his own shadow stretched in-front of him and into this figure.
And that this Thing had no shadow of his own.
This was no man.
Greg was kneeling by now. He looked up and this silhouette, which now looked even more massive.
Another wave of forcefully vibrating silence came. But this time, it was a name.
“MANDY PORTER.” The last victim. The last woman Greg would ever lay his hands on. That was the moment he realized he wasn’t going to make it in the house. He wasn’t going to see his stupid wife again. He wasn’t going to see anything ever again. The devil had caught up with him.
He had a moment to raise his hands up in self defense. Greg could see that the Thing had a weapon raised over his head.
“Please don’t…” he tried to mutter. But the swinging blow came down on top of him like thunder. The ground buckled under him as the blunt weapon crushed Greg and pushed him into the Earth. A sonic wave, similar to an earthquake bellowed outward. Ripples of rock pushed away from Greg’s eviscerated caucus. The surrounding houses and apartments trembled. Car alarms sprang to life. You could hear the symphony of car horns in the distance.
And in the next moment it was over.
The alley was silent.
The shadowy figure was gone as if it had never been there.
Greg Pinter’s bloody, meaty puree covered the alley asphalt, and walls and tall fences.
“Greg!?! Where are you?!?” Justine Pinter called to her husband from the back door.
There was no answer.
He knew it was a dream.
He didn’t care. It was going to be one of those dreams he would wake dripping with sweat and a massive erection. He had them every couple of weeks since he had gone into hiding.
This time, it was an incident from maybe seven years ago. He was in that old house across the street from that white trash dive bar in Rocky Hill, Connecticut.
He was in the basement. He’d laid the clear plastic out on the floor perfectly. All the furniture and equipment in the room had been covered and taped properly. Once again, he was certain there’d be no trace evidence. The police had searched his previous home in Norwich 4 times. He had gotten lucky. The law wasn’t very thorough those days. But it was a close enough call for him to change locations.
Here in Rocky Hill, he had just set up shop. This was his third guest in as many weeks. He had thought his set up was too good to be true. Trashy drunk women would stumble out of that bar before midnight. Most would have a ride or call a taxi. But there was a few. Just a few who convinced themselves they could just walk along the highway and hitchhike their way home.
That’s where he met Mandy.
When he pulled up alongside her and asked if she needed a ride somewhere, he could barely make out her inaudible slurring. She stank of Bailey’s Irish Cream. She even had spots of creamy white splashed on your tight red shirt and her black lace bra peaking from out of the top. When he told her to get in, she muttered a few words and nearly tripped off of the curb trying to climb in the passenger seat.
And now, here she was. Mandy.
Sitting in his fun room. His house of pleasure.
He had her tied firmly to his favorite chair and black electrical tape across her mouth. He made sure not to cover her nose because he didn’t want her to suffocate. That would be too easy.
She was barely conscious. Her head bobbed every once in a while and she tried to mumble something from behind her taped lips. He sat across from her in an identical chair.
These were the moments he cherished the most. The calm before the storm. The foreplay. The kill would be over in a matter of seconds. It was the anticipation that drove him crazy. He licked his lips, observing her heaving chest. Her breathing was irregular. When she coughed he was afraid she would vomit, and with the tape across her mouth, she’d surely suffocate.
He didn’t realize he was drooling. He wiped his moist mouth with his calloused hand. The rough jagged edges of his crusted skin scraped across his mouth and chin. He licked his lips once again as he rose to his feet and approached the incoherent Mandy. He bent over until he was almost face to face with her slouching head.
He gently brushed the stray strands of hair from the left side of her face and pushed them behind her ear. Now he could see her entire face. And judging by the movement of her eyebrows and the rapid fluttering behind her eyelids, he knew she was waking up. He braced himself for the moment her eyes opened. He waited for her stare to widen when she realized what was happening.
Her fear would wash over him like an orgasm. His pants throbbed in anticipation.
Her eyes slowly opened and her vision locked with his.
And then he woke up.
“Greg!” was the first word he heard when his eyes opened. He jumped, startled.
“Greg! Take out the trash! It’s after midnight!” A familiar voice cried from behind him.
His vision adjusted and the site of his television replace the gaze of Mandy. He realized that the dream was over. He was back on his couch, still in his work clothes. He had come in from the gas station, had a beer to watch the news and nodded off to the sweet memory of Mandy in his basement.
And then she woke him up.
“I’m getting sick of having to tell you every goddamn time to take out the trash before dark! You know we have a critter problem!” His wife Justine bellowed at him like a broken record.
He wanted to jump up and grab her by the throat, or he’d grab her head from behind and twist it with all his might. The pleasure of hearing her neck snap would probably be worth having to leave San Francisco.
He’d buried twenty four beautiful bodies in his eight years of fun. It wouldn’t be prudent to kill his camouflage wife and bring attention to himself. After all, he’d done the impossible. He’d gotten away with mass murder.
But still, he smiled at the thought of her head falling limp over her body after breaking her neck.
He could still hear her arguing to herself in the bedroom when he grabbed the two large black garbage bags she had tied close and left next to the back door.
“And please remember put the lids on tight! The dogs are getting into the…”
He stepped outside and closed the doors before he could hear her finish her rant.
The wet, biting cold hit him in the face immediately. He thought about going back in quickly for his jacket, but realized he’d have to hear her mouth again. He wanted to delay that as long as possible.
He crossed the small backyard grass and reached the tall wooden back gate door. He jiggled the small metal handle until the door swung inwards, revealing the darkened alleyway.
His wife called out from the house again.
He quickly stepped into the alley and shut the door behind him.
A moment of peace was upon him. He stood where he was for a second and took a deep breath and enjoyed the nothingness that was the alley. It stretched for as far as the eye could see in both directions. It was faintly lit by the luminance of light coming from the houses that ran parallel on both sides.
Greg had walked six houses down to the mass of grey, blue and green garbage and recycle bins that were crowded in an empty lot where a house use to be. It was an unwritten rule that this would be the only place the garbage men would pick up trash. This would cut down on the time the large idling trucks would be in the area at 4 in the morning.
He reached a long row of grey garbage bins and started the tedious task of opening each one to find room for his garbage. He held his breath the entire time.
He finally found room in the seventh bin he checked. It was half full but there was still plenty of room for his two bags. Or at least he’d make the room. He swung the first bag up and over the bin and brought it crashing into place. The second bag needed a little help to fit. He lightly pressed in, pushing the second bag down until it was level with the top of the bin.
As he pulled the lid down and started to make his way back toward the house, he managed to look up to his left and see that a window on the third floor the house opposite to the garbage lot. The light was dim but still managed to radiate the darkened alley. In the window, there was the face of what seemed to be a little girl. He thought she had to be around 5 or 6 years of age. He could barely make out her blonde ponytails and the pink ribbons that held them.
He was about to wave to her, but then noticed that she wasn’t looking at him. She was frozen, staring down the alleyway toward his house. Greg followed her gaze, which in fact was directed at his very gate. It wasn’t the gate specifically. It was the silhouetted figure that stood in front of it.
A cold shiver washed over Greg. He stopped in his tracks to try and let his brain register what he was seeing and his eyes adjust to the dark. Firstly, he was convinced his eyes were playing tricks on him. Even though there was ample light radiating down the alleyway, he couldn’t see any definition in this figure. But the bushes next to him, the old newspaper page beneath his feet– they had color and detail. It was ash if he was looking at the shadow of a silhouette.
Another thing was the size of this figure. Grey knew that his back gate was nearly eight feet tall. He remembered measuring it when they first moved in to make sure prying eyes couldn’t see his backyard without effort. Staring at this figure, it almost looked as if the top of his head was parallel with the top of the gate.
But that was impossible.
The tallest men in existence were barely over seven feet. It had to be some type of optical illusion.
Everything inside of Greg screamed for him to run. Every fiber in his being told him the situation was not in his favor. But he knew that feeling all too well. He’d had it more than a few times before he abducted his subjects. That feeling excited him. It was part of the hunt.
And that’s when he realized that he was in fact the hunter. He was the predator. He was the man who’d captured and killed over two dozen victims. If anything, this shadowy figure needed to fear him. The silhouette’s inner voice should be telling him to turn and walk the other way.
Greg started to walk toward the figure, a grin slowly creeping across his face.
As he grew closer, he looked up at the little girl’s house. She had since disappeared from the window, the light turned off and the curtains closed.
Good. He didn’t need to have witnesses to what he was going to do.
A few paces down the alley, Greg saw what seemed to be a discarded crutch leaning against his neighbor’s gate. One of the screws of the middled handle was missing, so the bar dangled to one side. He maneuvered himself toward it and grabbed it as he passed by. The ice cold metal was wet and slippery from the night’s dew. But Greg’s grip was firm. This would work fine as a weapon.
He didn’t totally lift the crutch. He let it drag along the ground. The rubber sole at the bottom had worn off, so the metal bottom scraped against the dirt and gravel alley floor. The sound echoed in the silent night.
“Is there something I can help you with?” Greg called out playfully.
He didn’t want the stranger to answer. He wanted the confrontation. It had been so long since he tasted another’s blood. He preferred young women. It was always paramount that he had a sizable advantage in the confrontation. But the crutch would be the great equalizer this time. He could beat the stranger bloody, call the cops and be a hero for protecting the community.
“I said.. can I help you?” Greg said again, pulling the crutch off of the ground and getting a firm grip.
He was about 5 yards away by this time. It was at that moment that he realized this figure was in fact the same height at his gate. And even thought he was a mere steps away from him, he still couldn’t see the figure. It was still a silhouette. Light seemed to disappear within it, like a black hole.
His brain tried to process what he was looking at. There still was more things that were off. The height and lack of light was weird already, but there seemed to be even more wrong. It was as if whoever or whatever it was, it didn’t belong there. Not just there. But anywhere. It didn’t seem to fit at all. It was as if someone had taken a pair of scissors and cut away whatever was suppose to be standing there.
Greg stopped a couple yards away. He looked up at where it’s face was suppose to be.
There was just blackness.
Greg gripped the crutch in both hands.
“I don’t want any trouble.” He said. He meant for the words to come out more forcefully, but his voice cracked. He wasn’t use to facing someone bigger than he was. He was out of his element.
He gripped the crutch tighter. He had to muster up enough courage to get into his gate.
“Say something!” Greg said, this time with a little more bass in his voice. He was a fraction of a second away from wielding the crutch. He realized it would be better if he struck first. He’d have to catch the larger man off guard if he were to gain the upper-hand.
What came next was unexpected.
The figure spoke. But it was more than speech. In fact, there was no sound. Only the force of vibration that seem to hit Greg like a speeding car. There was no actual sound, but Greg heard every word. It was as if he were standing in front of an enormous subwoofer.
“JUDGEMENT.” The Thing continued to bellow.
Greg’s knees buckled from the force.
He heaved his empty stomach outward. He felt out-of-breath like he was punched in the stomach. His fingers convulsed as if he was hit with an electric shock. The crutch went falling to the alley floor.
“Oh, God…” he said trying to keep his-self standing. His world was like vertigo and the Thing continued to say that single word.
And as Greg reached down to retrieve his crutch to defend himself, he realized the last strange thing that was bothering him. As his hands gripped the crutch, he noticed that his own shadow stretched in-front of him and into this figure.
And that this Thing had no shadow of his own.
This was no man.
Greg was kneeling by now. He looked up and this silhouette, which now looked even more massive.
Another wave of forcefully vibrating silence came. But this time, it was a name.
“MANDY PORTER.” The last victim. The last woman Greg would ever lay his hands on. That was the moment he realized he wasn’t going to make it in the house. He wasn’t going to see his stupid wife again. He wasn’t going to see anything ever again. The devil had caught up with him.
He had a moment to raise his hands up in self defense. Greg could see that the Thing had a weapon raised over his head.
“Please don’t…” he tried to mutter. But the swinging blow came down on top of him like thunder. The ground buckled under him as the blunt weapon crushed Greg and pushed him into the Earth. A sonic wave, similar to an earthquake bellowed outward. Ripples of rock pushed away from Greg’s eviscerated caucus. The surrounding houses and apartments trembled. Car alarms sprang to life. You could hear the symphony of car horns in the distance.
And in the next moment it was over.
The alley was silent.
The shadowy figure was gone as if it had never been there.
Greg Pinter’s bloody, meaty puree covered the alley asphalt, and walls and tall fences.
“Greg!?! Where are you?!?” Justine Pinter called to her husband from the back door.
There was no answer.
Nicolas Poole
He skimmed the San Francisco Chronicle, looking for interesting things to read. It was the end of the day Friday, and he was busy nursing his third pint of Guinness..
In his favorite booth.. In his favorite pub in Berkeley, California.
He was careful to avoid anything dealing with unusual circumstances. For the past 2 years, he’d spent his time trying to keep away from his former line of work. For almost a decade, he was a part of the supernatural policing force known as The Order of Apotheosis.
For as long as humans had kept records, there had been things in the world that were beyond the reach of normal police and military forces.
Vampires, werewolves, zombies, etc.
The supernatural had existed in the shadows of humankind, just out of the consciousness of society. In the late 1100’s, during the 3rd Crusades, various members of the Jews, Muslims and Franks were forced to set their animosity aside and fight what would be known as the first recorded vampire plague across Europe. 40 men and women waged war across the great continent for almost a decade. Through the years, many of these warriors, known loosely as Apostates (officially The Order of Apotheosis)were killed and others joined. When the apparent last vampire was killed in 1195 AD, the seven surviving members realized they had experienced too much to return to their previous lives. They disbanded and went their separate ways, all along telling their stories and gathering like-minded individuals to help them fight other supernatural threats along their travels.
At the dawn of the Modern Age, global technology allowed these pockets of Apotheoun organizations to reconnect and unite. In 1995, the 22 separate international organizations that survived and grown since The Crusades, finally reformed under the original Apotheosis name to pool information and resources and once again become a united organization. The complex network and finances, technology and personnel were organized to give everyone access to the same resources.
Nick received his calling in September of 1996. Receiving ‘The Calling’ was what the group referred to joining the organization– even though his inclusion wasn’t so dramatic.
He answered an ad from his dorm bulletin board. ‘Apprentice Needed! Squeamish Need Not Apply!’
Two months later, he was carrying a gun and wooden stakes and prowling the streets like a foot-cop.
And he loved it.
There was something exhilarating about what they did. Knowing you were above the law, protecting the streets, all the while being loosely funded by the government to keep the otherworldies from being exposed to the populace. There was an unwritten rule, acknowledged by Federal Agencies and Local Law Enforcement. The strangeand the unexplained were Apostate domain. The word came straight from the top– give them lots a room and help keep the damage to a minimum.
When he was assigned to a case, all the resources of law enforcement where at his beck and call.
Nick had indeed found his calling.
And then it all went to hell.
On March 4th 2002, a viral outbreak hit the small town of Predator, Montana. At 10:17am, the first reports of citizens turning on each other in violent cannibalistic rages came through. A tactical team of Apostates were deployed by the afternoon. Due to apparent tactical mistakes in the field, the team was lost and the virus spread to the neighboring town of Kilter.
Two more Apostate teams were sent in to contain the situation, while military action was being approved by the Government. A total of 62,000 lives were lost and infected before military aircrafts were dispatched and high yield bombs were dropped on both cities and the area in between.
It took several months to politically spin the incident away from the supernatural. TV, newspapers and blogs reported that an experimental military base went nuclear, infecting 50 square miles around two towns. This irradiated area wouldn’t be accessible for almost 150 years, giving the Powers That Be time to search the wreckage for any explanation of what happened.
In the end, the The Order was ruled not responsible for what happened. But the damage was done. Their rogue actions were brought to light, and too many people started asking questions. The United Nations lobbied for more international oversight with the program. The consensus seemed to be The Order of Apotheosis required a governing body to assess threats and minimize loss of life in the field.
And that’s when The Church stepped in.
The Vatican had been keeping track of the The Order in all it’s forms since that first group of heroes disbanded and went their own ways. They always considered The Church as the birthplace of these freedom fighters and waited for the right moment to step in and bring them home. Unfortunately, the loss of life was exactly what they needed.
June 9th 2003, after 5 months of deliberation, the authority of The Order of Apotheosis agreed that they would continue their mission under the auspices of The Catholic Church. Controlling money, power and technology was given to The Vatican and The Order’s teams of mercenaries were replaced with specially-trained Clerics.
Gabriel Eams was one of the first to resign from the Bay Area installation. Nick tried to work within the system, but almost drowned under the weight of red tape and political minutia. There was too much protocol involved to contain incidents. He was on and off of probation for an entire year, until he walked away and never looked back.
Nick had put all that behind him. It took him a while, but in the present, he enjoyed filling his life with the mundaneness of an average day. Even now at that moment, he checked his watch, waiting for the appropriate time to head home from his average job.
It had taken a while for him to get accustomed to being normal. He devised a routine of nothingness to keep his self on the straight and narrow– away from his former life.
Every weekday, he had the same routine.
He would wake up at 6 in the morning to coffee, a bagel and a random episode of Battlestar Galactica (the reboot, of course). At 6:55, he’d shower, shave and get dressed.
Out the door at 7:45, he’d have just enough time to walk to the BART station and catch the 8:20 train into downtown Berkeley. By 8:50, he’d grabbed a breakfast burrito and venti Latte from his favorite food truck, Alejandro’s, which then gave him just enough time to be in the office and at his cube by 9:00 am.
The venti Latte would give him a nice burst of creative energy, allowing him to crank out 8 hours of writing marketing copy for whatever mundane product his company had as a client.
At 5 on the dot, Nick would be out of his seat and headed 3 and a half blocks down the street to his favorite pub, ‘The Last Round’.
And now, he sat in his favorite booth– situated at the far end of the room– away from the noisy mix of corporate hipsters and college students.
He remembered when The Last Round was a dive bar, with only a sprinkling of regulars who bought just enough to the keep the place open.
But the new owner changed all that.
Samuel, Nick’s friend and the original pub owner had died of heart complications two years before, leaving the place to his nephew, Miguel.
Now there was a billiards table, and a dart board, and a flat panel TV with ESPN and Telemundo Sports. There were attractive waitresses in tight shorts and string tank tops serving stout, garlic fries and chicken wings.
It all had changed. And Nick disliked change.
Lucky for him, Samuel had spoken of Nick to Miguel on many occasions. So when he renovated the pub, he made sure to keep that special booth in the far end of the pub just the way it was. Miguel honored his uncle’s wishes. He assured Nick that he would still have his spot when the new pub was reopened. And when the doors did reopen, Nick continued to come in every weekday and continue his routine of 3 Guinnesses and a newspaper.
Checking his watch, he saw he had a few minutes before he had to settle up and head for the train station and catch the 7:32pm train home.
He polished off the last pint of Guinness, and headed for the door.
He needed to time his exit when Miguel, wasn’t at the bar.
Nick saw his chance.
He pulled three $10 bills out of his coat pocket, placed it on the bar and put his empty beer glass on top of it.
He tried to walk briskly toward the door.
“Hell no!” Nick heard from behind.
‘Fuck’ he thought to himself.
He’d never been in any other place where he had to fight to pay his bar tab.
He turned to find Miguel back behind the bar. The tall heavy-set owner was an intimidating sight, on first glance. But Nick knew him for being a timid father and husband, who loved his bar and his regular patrons.
“I told you before–” Miguel said, sliding the $30 back across the bar. “–you’re money’s no good here.”
“Dude.” Nick said. “In this economy, you need to let people pay what they owe.”
Miguel frowned. “NO.. GOOD..”
Nick was about to argue further, until he saw the picture of the family hanging behind the bar. Miguel’s daughter’s name was Rita. She was 8 years old back then. Nick could tell the photo was taken a little over a year ago. Miguel had taken his family on a vacation to Hawaii after the attack. He could see in the picture, Rita still had the bandage on her neck from the bite.
The little girl was lucky Nick had forgotten his backpack at the pub after he left for home that day. He came back, just as the vampire was attacking. The place had been closing, so no one was in the pub, except for the owner and his daughter, who had been visiting her father because the babysitter had an emergency.
Nick entered the pub, expecting Miguel and Rita to have their coats on and turning out the lights. What he found was an unconscious Miguel on the floor at the far end of the pub, and little Rita squirming on-top of the pool table, with a long-haired female vampire on top of her. The thing had her pinned against the billiards table trying to bleed her dry.
Nick was extra brutal with that kill.
When he reached the girl, he saw that her eyes were already rolling inside the back of her head. All he could see was the whites of her eyes, and her little trembling fingers. It was a horrible sight, but nowhere near the fear and nausea he felt hearing the sounds. It was only a few seconds, but they still gave him nightmares.
The blood rushing into the vampire’s mouth— the soft, fragile whimper from Rita— the almost-sexual moans from that vampire piece of shit.
He felt such a rage inside of himself, he barely remembers reaching down over the vamp’s head and sinking his two middle fingers into the monster’s nostrils and his fore and pinky fingers into its eye sockets. He felt the fingers slide into the thing’s skull, it’s eyeballs popping and oozing over his digits like runny egg yokes.
The vamp’s mouth craned open, releasing it’s death-hold on Rita, as it cried out. That sexy moan was replace with a high-pitched, inhuman scream and as the child’s body slowly rolled over on the billiards table clutching her neck.
Nick forcefully pulled up on the vamp’s skull until her body was upright and chest was exposed.
It thrashed violently. He could feel it trembling in pain.
For a split second, he almost felt sympathy. He almost asked. What am I doing?
But then he looked across the billiards table and saw little innocent Rita in the fetal position— trembling— clutching her neck.
The rage overtook him again. He wrenched his grip even harder, causing the vampire’s flailing to increase. He looked up to see Miguel was awaken and staring in horror at what was happening. He wanted to run to his daughter on the pool table, but his mind was busy trying to rationalize what he was seeing.
Miguel would tell Nick afterwards that beforehand, he had heard the rumors. He had heard of the secret monster hunters, The Apostates. Like everyone else, he’d heard stories of unnatural things happening in the city, and the mysterious men and women who would arrive to fight them, and then leave without a word.
At that moment, seeing Nick there with his hand gripping the apparent vampire’s skull like a bowling ball– seeing the female’s 3-inch fangs elongated and dripping with Rita’s blood– seeing her off her feet and her flailing arms and legs– Miguel figured out who Nick was— Or rather whathe was.
Miguel also said that Nick seemed intoxicated by what was happening. He was smiling. It was a sinister smile of anticipation. It almost looked like what he was seeing was just foreplay. This was the hors d’ oeuvre platter before he got to play.
Nick reached down to the billiards table and slowly grabbed a pool stick. He slammed it against the table until it shattered, leaving a thick shard in his hand.
“No!! No!! No!!” the She-Thing cried. It begged Nick. But he wasn’t listening. His eyes for still transfixed on Rita’s trembling body.
Nick turned and sent his gaze to Miguel.
“Fuck it.” He said, raising the pool stick shard over his head. He brought the wooden piece slamming into her chest, puncturing her through the heart. He felt the impact push through her back and against his chest.
Her violent screaming ceased. In seconds, her body seemed to burn from the inside. He could feel the intense heat washing over him as her body disintegrated into ash and cinders. As the red hot carbon flakes and body parts floated to his feet, the intense stare on his face softened. It was as if Nick came out of a trance.
He gained his composure just as Miguel was racing to his daughter.
He glanced over at his friend, who was clutching his daughter and on the phone with Emergency services.
Miguel’s looked up and met Nick’s gazed.
“That was a vampire?” he asked.
“Yes.” Nick answered softly.
“A real vampire? A Dracula vampire?”
“Yes.”
“He.. he bit my Rita. Will she…?”
“No.” Nick knelt beside them. “No. There’s a whole big blood exchange thing that needs to happen. She’s just lost a lot of blood.” Nick heard sirens in the background. “She’ll be just fine once a doctor sees her.”
Flashing red lights from the approaching ambulance filled the room. Nick looked back, trying to figure out what his next move was. It was an illegal kill. He wasn’t sanction for kills anymore. He could’ve been in serious trouble if the Church found out.
“I know what you are.” he heard Miguel say.
“That’s not me.” he quietly replied. “Not anymore.”
“I heard about you guys from my uncle. You saved my Rita. You saved her life.”
Nick didn’t know what to say. He hated to talk about his old job.
“The back door leads to a closed alley.” Miguel stood to face Nick, Rita resting in his arms like a child. “Hop the green gate and head down the alley. You’ll see the train station sign at the end of the block.”
“Thanks.” Nick said as he quickly made his way into the pub’s backroom. He heard Miguel say something else while he was leaving, but he couldn’t make it out.
The pub was closed for two weeks after that. When it re-opened, Nick was in his booth at the regular time. There was an unspoken bond between he and Miguel after that day. They never spoke of that night ever again. Rita never visited the pub again.
And to that day, Nick was never allowed to pay for any drinks or food.. no matter how hard he tried.
Miguel noticed him staring at the family picture.
“She still talks about you.” he said with a short smile. “Not about what happened specifically. Just how safe she feels knowing uncle Nick is out there.”
“Uncle Nick?” he looked surprised.
“You really make an impression.”
Nick smiled, waved goodbye and started to leave.
“Excuse me!”
Nick stopped in his tracks.
Miguel slid the bills even further. “You forgetting something?”
‘Fuck.’ he said under his breath.
The train was unusually crowded for that time of the evening. Normally, the heavy commute would end around 6:30pm. That’s why Nick would spend so much time in the pub. He liked having his space at all times. He liked having a direct line-of-sight with everyone in his vicinity. It was another habit he acquired as a hunter.
But this day, every seat, including the one next to him, was filled. People were standing shoulder-to-shoulder in the aisles. His train ride was roughly twenty minutes each way, so he figured the train would filter out by the time his stop was close. He looked up occasionally from his book to see most of the people standing with one arm on the railing, and the other tapping away on mobile phones. It looked like the population was under the control of these little technology boxes they were forced to hold in their hands.
That’s when Nick smiled. None of them knew how close that came to happening a few years ago.
‘The Nanite Invasion from Middle Earth’ is what his boss labeled the docket in the records file.
It was a lot more frightening that it sounded.
As the BART train entered the tunnel that passed underneath the San Francisco Bay, the lights slightly flickered. His fingers tightened around his book. His senses seemed to heighten, as he became aware of everyone sitting around him.
Through the mass of pedestrians sitting and standing all around, he could sense them.
He could feel the eyes of the others staring at him.
He sensed their fear.
A lot of otherworldly beings knew an Apostate on site. They carried themselves differently than most people. And even though Nick had given up the faith, he still carried himself to the high standards of a hunter.
The train doors opened at the stop before his, and people poured out of the train like they were connected at the hips. By the time the train started again, there was no one standing and about a third of the seats were empty.
From the back seat where Nick sat, sitting about 6 seats in front of him, a small girl stared back at him. She was facing backwards in her seat, her face hidden by the back of the seat- just her eyes poking up over the horizon. He could feel her eyes on him. He tried to ignore her stare, but couldn’t resist the urge to look up.
He locked eyes with her. She flinched, startled by his acknowledgment. Her eyes grew slightly wider, just enough to see their unusual color. They were a bright blue and traces of red specks.
Vampire. he thought.
The poor kid had been turned so young. It meant she would never grow up. She’d be this old soul locked in this pre-developed body for eternity. Who knows, she probably was already a millennia old. You could never tell from a distance.
The woman sitting next to her finally noticed the girl’s gaze. She also turned to see what she was looking at. Another pair of bright blew eyes stared back at him. The look of surprise widened in her eyes also.
This time, Nick waved back at both of them with a fiendish grin- the look of a creepy old man written across his face. They both quickly sat forward in their seats.
He hated vampires.
And even though he was no longer sanctioned to hunt them, he didn’t mind putting the fear of God into them when he could. It kind of made him feel sick that they could move so freely throughout the population. This Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell legislation brought down by the Religious Reich seemed unthinkable ten years ago.
Now, deaths by Otherworldlies required investigation and due-process. Before legislation got into the picture, it was like the Wild Wild West. Apostates had no authority. It was a holy war for the modern age. Vampires, zombies, ghosts, werewolves, and any other supernatural creation- they were all fair game. They preyed on humans and his kind preyed on them. Apostates were the monsters that monsters feared.
But for the ones who could reason and had a strong survival instinct, it was beneficial to reach a cease-fire. The Apostates and Vampire Collective came to an unofficial agreement. Population Control, 1st-response Self-policing, Feeding without killing. The Vampire Hierarchy and The Apostate Clerics, under the auspices of the Catholic Church organized a temporary aggressive cease-fire, until a more permanent agreement could be brokered.
That was ten years ago.
That’s when Nick became disenchanted with the faith.
They’d become marginalized. Their mission and authority had been stripped from them. From that point on, they were transformed from warriors to caretakers of the new law. Instead of hunting monsters, they were regulated to chronicling crime-scenes and filing reports for bureaucrats.
Nick tried to play his role. For two years he begrudgingly followed the new world order. He pushed the boundaries of law more times than he could count, and in return got cited, fined and demoted. Until after 18 months under the new rule, he decided to walk away. He’d lost his faith. The mission had been tainted by bureaucracy. His mission in life had been to beat the monsters back into the darkness. Now they roamed freely in the streets. Mixing with the humans. Doing things in the dark, while the humans in charge looked the other way in order to keep the peace.
He lost respect for the job. He lost respect for The Order. And most of all, he lost respect for his-self.
The BART pulled into his station, and he promptly packed his book into the backpack and proceeded to head for the now opened exit. But as he reached the door, he stopped and made one last slow glance toward the two vampires.
They didn’t turn around.
Reactivated
Nick didn’t remember going to sleep the nighted before. He remembered getting home and sitting down to sort through the thick pile of neglected mail he had on his coffee table. He gently put his technology magazines neatly on the table by the front door so he wouldn’t forget to put them in his backpack for the train ride to work on Monday.
His last memory was getting to the 2nd notice to pay his cable bill. He had the money, but going online and paying had become a low priority to everything else that kept popping up during the day. He was about to get up to grab his Macbook, when his mind wondered off in some irrelevant direction.
When his cellphone rang at 3am, it left him disoriented. He somehow had made it to the bed, but never undressed. He was sleeping on-top of his neatly-made bed with the clothes still on, yet his pant were unzipped and open. He took a guess that he’d started to take his pants off and then lost interest.
His phone was flashing bright blue and vibrating crazily on his nightstand. This hadn’t happened to him since he retired from the Apostates. Late night / early morning calls were common. Most Para-human incidents happened while regular people were sleeping. Nick didn’t know who the call could be coming from. The job of a copywriter didn’t require off-hour emergency calls. It was one of the reasons he loved his current mundaneness. No muss.. No fuss.. No pressure.
He reached over and grabbed the phone, the bright fluorescent flashing light hurt his eyes, piercing the darkness of his bedroom. The read-out simply read ‘blocked’.
“What The fuck..” He mumbled.
He knew who it was. He’d been mistakenly called a half dozen times since he quit the crusade. Their record-keeping wasn’t exactly stellar. He slid the slide-lock open on the screen and fumbled the phone to his ear.
“Hold for the Cleric.” A voiced called out to him.
“Wrong number again.” He mumbled back.
Normally, there would be a few seconds of pause, and then the admin on the other line would hang up. But this time, the admin stayed on.
“Hold for the Cleric, Mr. Poole.” she said, followed by a very familiar muzak.
Nick sat up and turned on the light. No one had ever called him by name on the line.. Even when he was still active. He put the call on speaker-phone. The muzak was incredibly loud.
‘Is that The Girl from Ipanema?’ he thought to himself.
The muzak halted and there was a series of clicks. Nick knew it was the automated system preparing to record the call.
“Hello, Nick.” A voice spoke almost immediately.
He recognized her voice. It made him wince.
“Hello, Barbara.” He answered.
“It’s Cleric Hayes now.” She answered.
“Well well.. Congratulations, Barbara.”
Barbara Hayes was an Apostate he knew back when he was active. But she was never one of the boys. She was the consumate bureaucrat, quietly maneuvering herself up the ladder, to apparently positioning herself in the ultimate desk job. The position of Cleric was the equivalent of a Branch Manager. Now she had just enough authority to order the real soldiers around, while kissing the asses of any Priests or Arch-Bishops who The Vatican send for inspections and updates.
The fact the Nick called her by her first name when he knew her position was considered disrespectful. But to be honest, he’d lost his respect for the crusade as a whole. It was something entirely different. He had no regrets being a killer. He knew being what he was would condemn him in the eyes of all that was holy. He could except that. He sacrificed his soul to protect others. He could live with that. He couldn’t live with being a puppet for the Church.
“I’m sending a car for you.” Barbara said. “We need to talk.”
Nick sighed. “Sorry. Not my problem.”
He hung up the phone.
Just as he turned the light off and rolled back into bed, as if on cue, there was a knock at the door. He noticed the flashing red and blue lights from the Police car coming through his bedroom window.
The second round of knocking, coupled with his phone ringing again, finally got him out of bed. He turned on the light, and answered the phone as he headed for the front door.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” He yelled into the phone.
“I’m sorry, Nick. This is serious.” Her voice called back a little softer. “I understand you don’t want anything to do with us, but this it coming down from The Church.”
“The Church? I still don’t understand what this has to do with..”
Nick opened the door to find two Sheriff officers standing behind a man he didn’t recognize. He stood way above 6 feet tall. Very gangly, he wore a thick black trench-coat, over a black suit and shirt. The priest collar colored red was very pronounced.
“You’ve got to be kidding me?” Nick laughed. “You send a Priest to get me?”
“What? Oh, no no..” Barbara cleared her throat. “That’s the standard Apostate uniform.”
“They make you dress like Priests?” Nick laughed.
“Please, Nick…” the voice on the phone changed. The male voice, strong and pronounced.
“Gabe?” Nick stopped in his tracks.
“Yeah, buddy.” He called back.
Gabriel Eames had been Nick’s teacher, mentor and friend since day one as an Apostate. He had been in command of the Unit until the Catholic Church took over the calling. He was the one who convinced Nick to leave.. although it was a good six month after Gabe spit in the face of the Arch-Bishop.
Gabe seemed to choose his words carefully. “There’s a slight situation that’s about to get way out of hand. I can’t speak about it over the phone, but you know if I’m standing in this place, it has to be important.”
Nick was about just say no and slam the door in the face of the anonymous man and his Sheriffs. But he had to admit he was intrigued. The fact that The Church let Gabriel Eams back into their sacred office said a lot about the situation.
“O.k.” Nick replied and then hung up the phone before anyone on the other line could answer.
“We will wait for you in the cruiser.” The Anonymous man said turning and walking off toward the flashing lights.
.
***************************
The Sheriff’s cruiser had been on the highway for a good 15 minutes. It was flanked by two motorcycle cops that periodically rushed in front of them to clear the way of traffic. Inside, Nick and the anonymous Apostate sat in the back in silence. Nick stared out the window, flashing back to all the times he did this, minus the police escort. It had been almost a decade since these dire situations woke him from sleep and put him on the hunt for some mythical creature. He didn’t miss it as much as he thought he would.
“My name is Alec.” The man sitting next to him said.
“Hey.” He replied without looking at him.
It wasn’t for almost 30 seconds that he didn’t realize Alec had his hand out in greeting. He returned a firm handshake.
“I would tell you it’s an honor to meet you, Sir. But The Church has listed you as excommunicated.”
Nick laughed. “That’s.. Wonderful.”
“They say you turned your back on the mission.”
“No.” Nick replied, still gazing out the backdoor window. “I didn’t turn my back on anything. The Church changed the mission. They took it and sanitized it. Turned it into a their own personal agenda. You can’t turn your back on something you were never a part of.”
“That’s not what The Church wrote.”
“The Church can eat me.”
.
***************************
Two blocks away from their destination, the police vehicles turned off their flashing lights. The two motorcycle escorts waved to the Sheriff car and and drove away speedily.
On the corner of 26th and Valencia sat a small Ethiopian cuisine cafe called Sebat. It was a cute little shop, which looked like it couldn’t hold more than 20 people. There were plenty of outside tables and it had a large floor window so you could see everything inside.
The Sheriff cruiser pulled over to the curb a block before Sebat and let the two passengers out. It stayed parked and quiet while Nick and Alec reached the cafe.
The front door opened before they could knock.
Gabriel emerged from the darken cafe, he offered his hand to Nick while turning to Alec, who sulked a bit backwards.
“Thank you, soldier.” He told Alec. “Go home.”
Alec nodded to both men and promptly started walking back toward the cruiser. Gabriel then signaled for Nick to follow him into the cafe.
He walked behind his mentor with his hand on his shoulder until his eyes got accustomed to the darkness. They navigated around the mass of tables with chairs stacked upside down on top. Into, and passed the kitchen, they came to an opened giant freezer. As they passed through, Gabriel closed and locked the door behind them.
Nick knew where they were going. He use to take this route to the office everyday for years. At the back of the freezer, behind the hanging frozen half of beef and lamb, an elevator door slid open. A bright light hit them in the face, causing them to raise their hands for protection.
There were no buttons in the elevator. There was only one destination and it automatically descended once the door closed. As they felt the lift rapidly drop, Gabe hesitantly turned to his former understudy.
“O.K.” He started with a deep breath. “Before this all goes down, I need you to make me a promise.”
“Say it.” Nick said without turning around.
“I need you to NOT lose your shit once we’re in the middle of this. I mean, I need you in full composure mode. You hear me?”
Nick smiled. “I’ll do my best.”
“No! No no no no no.. I NEED you to do this for me.”
The lift reached it’s destination, and the doors slid open to reveal a long, poorly lit corridor, which lead to a large steel double-door. They started to walk.
Nick was a little unnerved. “Why are we in the middle of this? More importantly, why are YOU in the middle of this? They kicked you out! After 20+ years, they pushed you out. You don’t have any obligations to do this.. Whatever this is.”
“It ain’t about obligation or even the situation.” He spoke intently. “There’s a big curve ball in the scheme of things right now. There’s a big paradigm shift in the paranormal landscape and the current status quo ain’t gonna get the job done.”
They reached the door but delayed entering the room.
Gabe continued. “We both knew what was gonna happen to the order once The Church took over. And we were right. The Apostates are nothing but a bunch of light-weights carrying crosses and holy water. They got their marching orders, but they don’t have the mission.”
“Then let ‘em fall on their asses. They deserve it.”
“True. But it ain’t about them. It’s about innocent people. You know it’s a delicate balance out there. The smallest of changes in the environment can send everything out of wack.” Gabe sighed, wiping his face. “We didn’t sign on to protect The Church. That’s why we both left. But we did swear an oath to protect the people. That wasn’t a job to us. We don’t get fired from that. Fuck this place. I feel the way you do. But this is different. They need old-schoolers like us. Don’t do it for them. Do it for me.”
Nick nodded in agreement. “You had me at ‘fuck this place’.”
Gabriel put his hand on his former student’s shoulder with a firm grip. That was always a sign that he was proud of him. It made Nick smile.
“O.k.” Gabriel took a deep breath and started to open the door. “Put on your shitty grin face and let’s get through this.”
.
***************************
The florescent lighting in the Apostate Hall was bright, yet uninviting. The random slender bulbs overhead flickered periodically. Nick thought it reminded him of the Saw movies. Flickering lights inside of the room that resembled a boy’s club recreation room. The slight green tint made him feel like they were in the Matrix.
‘That would explain a lot of things.’ He thought.
Nick and Gabe entered and walked down the narrow red carpet in the middle of the room, which lead to four rows of burgundy folding chairs. There were eight chairs in each row. To their right was a series of small desks with computers on them; which all seemed to be opened to Google. To the right were two burgundy leather couches up against the wall. Two Apostates sat on each couch– three men and one woman, all dressed in the Priest-like uniforms.
“Who’s this?” Nick heard the woman whisper to the guy sitting next to her.
“The Cleric called them in. They’re suppose to help us.” The other replied.
Nick and Gabe sat in the back row of the folding chairs and settled in.
They could hear the Apostates whispering behind them. It was apparent they weren’t welcome.
After a minute or so, Nick turned around.
“Hey guys.” He called back. Gabe grabbed his arm, but it was too late.
“What?” the woman called back.
“You got a problem?”
“We know who you are.” She said standing up. “We know you two turned your backs on The Church. You have no right to be here.”
Nick was surprised when Gabe stood.
“The Cleric sent for us. We’re just here to help.”
One of the Apostates grew agitated. “Help with what?!? We don’t need the help of cowards.”
Now Nick stood. “Excuse me? Cowards?”
Gabe laughed.
“That’s right. Cowards.” The woman responded. “We’ve been chosen by God to fight this Holy War. We’re out there everyday doing our duty, while you two turned and ran. What have you done to be any help to us?”
Nick and Gabe looked at each other and smiled. They started going back and forth.
“Let’s see.. Uh..”
“We stopped that zombie outbreak in Richmond..”
“Robots from Mercury. That was a bad one..”
“That Spider Queen Disco thing..”
“And what were those things with the ‘prickly’ thingies in their heads?”
“Mo-Dü.”
“That’s right! The Mo-Dü invasion..”
“Sarah Palin..”
“THAT’S ENOUGH!” came from the front of the room.
Cleric Barbara Hayes had entered the room during the argument. She had positioned herself at the podium in the front. Unlike the Apostates, she was dress in business wear. Her designer lady pants suit fit perfectly on her slender frame. Her dark brown hair was pulled back tightly and she wore very little makeup. Even though she was a petite 5 foot 2, she stood on something behind the podium which made her tower over them.
Nick and Gabe fought the urge to laugh.
“Sorry, Ms. Hayes.” They said in unison.
Barbara glared at her Apostates. “These two may not be with The Faith, but they’ve earn the respect of this place. If it were up to me, I’d trade these two for the rest of you in a heartbeat. So until you’ve manage to save the world a half dozen times, you’ll sit and show them the proper respect!”
The Apostates fell in line. They all took seats directly in front of the podium.
Gabe and Nick sat and looked at each other.
“Respect.” Nick snickered.
They fist-bumped.
Cleric Hayes took a calming breath.
“Mr. Poole.. Mr. Eams.. Thank you for coming. I understand this wasn’t an easy thing to do. I know both of you made it clearly known you didn’t want to be associated with this organization ever again. I think after you hear what’s going on, you’ll understand by we need you.”
.
***************************
The lights went down in the meeting hall. The ceiling-mounted projector slowly sprang to life, while Cleric Hayes grabbed her iPad from the podium. After a few seconds, the Panasonic logo disappeared and the iPad’s home-screen filled with icons appeared.
“This isn’t normally how I handle these things.” Barbara started. “Normally I’d call one of you in and give you the assignment. But this isn’t a ‘normal’assignment.”
She tapped an icon on the iPad and a presentation title screen popped up on the projector.
“Seventeen days ago, the husks of four vampires were uncovered by a UPS delivery man in Richmond. Apparently, it was a nest, which had weekly deliveries of blood in accordance with the ‘Mutual Coexistence Act of 2004’. What he discovered were four bodies in the backyard, fangs exposed and claws extended.”
A crime scene photo of the incident popped on the screen.
“So? Dead vampires.” The female Apostate said.
She didn’t see the problem. Nick did.
“Four vampire corpses? In broad daylight? No signs of sun exposure?”
“No.” Barbara replied. She made a few finger gestures on the iPad to zoom in on one of the bodies. “A vampire’s allergic reaction to UV sun rays resides in the blood. The infection makes it unstable and highly acidic. These corpses had none.”
“Vampires completely drained of blood?” Nick whispered to himself.
“Time of death?” Another Apostate asked.
“We’ve studied samples of the remains. The time of death seems to be between 11pm and 2am the night before.”
“So whatever did this to them, did it at a time when they were at their strongest?”
“Yes.”
Barbara didn’t notice that Nick had gotten out of his seat and made his way to the screen. He studied the image.
“They all look like they were in a defensive posture. They were fighting when they died. And it looks like it was pretty instantaneous. No burn marks from holy water or religious relics. It looks like something just teleported their insides away leaving them instantly hallow.”
“Puncture marks?” Nick asked.
“No type of lacerations to suggest they were bitten or syphoned of their bodily fluids. There were slight impact indentations on their bodies. But nothing that would break the skin.”
“No idea.” Cleric Hayes changed the slide. “We were gonna put it on the backburner for research until it happened again two nights later. This time, it was the bodies of both Arachnid and Insectoid colonies in a BART tube between the 16th street and 24th street stations. Evidence suggest that they two species had been fighting until something else showed up and killed all on both sides. Again, no internal fluids were found on any body. And there was no trace evidence of this killer.”
Nick sighed. “And let me guess. It happened again?”
Cleric Hayes paused and then swiped her iPad to reveal and collage of gruesome images.
“Yes. Four more times, in fact. The latest victim..”
The slides advanced forward.
“..were human.” The image showed two young women, maybe in their early 20’s face-down in what seemed to be a kitchen.”
“Ah..” Nick sigh. “Everything was ‘hush hush’ until it turned into a homicide.”
“Correct, Mr. Poole.” Cleric Hayes turned off the projector. “Initially it was an otherworldly problem. But now the Police Commissioner is involved, getting pressure from the city government. That’s why we need you guys. You two combined still have more resources on the street then everyone we have enlisted. I need this stopped immediately.”
Nick smiled. He had actually drank the Kool-aid that Gabe was handing out. He got up and grabbed his coat. “Bullshit.”
“Nick, please…” Gabe tried to get his former understudy to sit. But Nick resisted. Gabe tried to grab his fore-arm, but he promptly yanked it away.
“Screw you, Gabe!” he replied. “I can’t believe you tried to get me involved in this shit.” He started to back away toward the exit.
“Nick, this isn’t what it seems..” The Cleric tried to persuade him.
“Like hell it isn’t! This is all the circle jerk! Two weeks of monster deaths and it’s all nice and quiet. Then two normals show up dead and everything goes to def-con 1?”
Gabe stood. “Nick! They need our help!”
Nick laughed. “No they don’t! They need scapegoats! The Commissioner’s don’t ask, don’t tell agreement with this place is out the window. Now they’re trying to find someone to pin this on with it eventually comes in to the light. Fuck that!”
Nick swung his coat around his shoulders; his arms slide cleanly into the sleeves and before the others knew it, he was disappearing into the darkened exit.
Cleric Hayes was about the call out again, when Gabe stopped her.
He smiled. “No need for anything else.”
Barbara was confused. “He’s not going to work for us?”
“He never was.” Gabe smiled at the Cleric. “Didn’t you know? He hates this place.”
The Vampire Queen
The sun was just starting to peak from behind the San Francisco skyline in the distance when Nick exited the front door of Sabet. The skyscrapers acted as a wind tunnel, funneling a strong breeze at his back as he headed up the street toward the train station. The cop car that had brought him there was still parked outside. The window rolled down and the driver was about to call out and ask him if he needed a ride home. But Nick just waved him off. He didn’t want anything to do with anything involved with this mess. He couldn’t believe the audacity of The Apostates trying to sucker him into being some kind of fall guy when the shit hit the fan. What was worse, was Gabe’s involvement in the whole thing.
Right in front of the Bay Area Transit entrance, there was an extremely tiny coffee shop. Not even a shop, it felt like a small crevice between two buildings that someone wedged a small counter and equipment into. Nick had grabbed coffee from Meek’s a few times before. He forgot the owner’s name, but he did remember he was a nice man.
He ordered a medium latte with two shots. A few minutes later, he was sipping on the strong, fragrant coffee; a perfect contrast to the cool breezy air. He gave the man $5.00 and told him to keep the change. When the man turned around toward the cash register, Nick slipped another $10 bill in his tip jar. He quickly left Meek’s before the man could turn and thank him and descended into the underground train station. As he reached the bottom step an fiddled in his pockets for his train ticket, he felt the coffee working its mojo. He made up his mind then and there to forget the whole Apostate debacle.
Fuck Gabe. Fuck the Cleric. Fuck all of it!
Nick didn’t have to wait too long for the train. Right on time, it pulled into the station with barely anyone onboard. As the doors slid open, he scoped out the seating in the back of the car that faced the rest of the train and had more leg room. As he sat down and the train started moving again, he realized he hadn’t noticed the man and woman sitting in the seats directly across from him. Through his peripheral vision, he could see that they looked like they were in their mid-twenties. But they could’ve been older than that; much older, in fact. Vampires aged at an incredibly slow rate. Something to do with chemically altered blood cells or something.
He didn’t quite know.
What really gave the couple away was the fact that Nick didn’t notice them at first. Vampires had some type of sense that bended human perception. It forces you to not want to notice them. It was a very strange thing. Apostates were trained to always examine the empty space in their senses. Vampires couldn’t take away your field of vision, but they could make it harder for the brain to want to access them.
The train car was nearly empty. Except him and the two vampires, there was an older gentleman sitting at the front of the car. He exited the train at the next two stops.
When the train started to move again, the vampires seem to turn their attention to Nick. He still didn’t look at them, but could feel their eyes on him.
They were harmless. Most vampires in the city were these days. But they did like to be braggadocios. He could hear them whispering and giggling.
Ten years ago, the thought of co-existing with vampires or werewolves are any other kind of otherworldly creatures would have been inconceivable.
But here he was. Sitting across the train from two fangs.
When they’re stop came, they promptly jumped up like a couple of teenagers and headed for the door. Just before the train stopped and the doors opened, they both looked back at Nick, who at that time was staring back at them. As the train doors slid open, the vampires gave the former Apostate a nod of acknowledgement. Without thinking, Nick did the same in kind.
For years, Nick had existed inside his own bubble. He didn’t care about anything that was outside of his sphere of existence at any given time. This was the first time he was forced to see and understand the New World Order. For years, he’d fought to protect the human race from the onslaught of otherworldly things. He’d done terrible things on a daily basis to protect the populace from anything that would throw the real world into complete chaos. He hated to admit it, but the Catholic Church had done what he wasn’t able to do.
They ended the war. What he and the Apostates couldn’t do on the battle field, The Church was able to accomplish through back room democracy and shadowy negotiations.
He hated The Church. It was only at that moment he had to at least consider the possibility that his hatred stemmed not from betrayal, but from jealousy. He didn’t like how the situation was resolved. These creatures still lived among us. They were still a threat. But at least there was an open dialog with those who were civilized to understand there could be a better way.
Coexistence…
His mind kept going back to the two vampires who had just departed. There was something odd. At first he couldn’t put his finger on it. It took a few minutes for him to realize that the problem he was having was.. There was no problem with them. They didn’t appear to be blood thirsty creatures. They seemed to be more people trying to figure out where they fit in.
Nick’ stop was coming up next. He spent that time pondering on the case Cleric Hayes presented. He had to look at the truth of the situation. If the Apostates couldn’t get a handle these murders, eventually panic would set in. And there’s nothing worse than creatures with fangs and claws who have nothing to lose. Whatever this unknown predator was, it was more than a threat to the populace. It was a threat to the uneasy peace that Nick was realizing needed to stay intact for everyone’s sake.
The train pulled into his station and he got up from his seat. The doors slid open and he began to exit, when his first step felt like it was stuck in flypaper. He stared off into the empty train station, knowing he should just leave, head home and enjoy his boring weekend.
But he couldn’t move.
Something was compelling him to stay on the train. He tried to deny it, but he knew what he had to do. He knew that two more stops will put him smack in the middle of the Mother’s Den.
Not only would there be things with claws and fangs, but more importantly there might be answers.
The doors slid closed in front of him and the train moved forward.
Nick sighed. “Motherfucking Gabe…”
.
***************************
The BART train had reached the end of the line. It would stop for 5 minutes, load up on passengers and take off in the direction it came from. When Nick finally exited the train, he stepped onto a crowded platform of people trying to get to work early. He had to fight to clear the doorway as the herd of people pushed onto the train; waves of arms and legs and backpacks and suitcases..
When the train finally pulled away from the platform, there was no one left in the station. But he knew that by the time the next train came in fifteen minutes, it would once again be packed. He knew he had to find the exit he needed before more people showed up.
Nick wasn’t looking toward the two exiting escalators that led you out of the station and onto the San Francisco streets. He was looking for the special entrance.
Underneath the city and connected to the entire BART system, were a series of secret entrances that led to catacombs further into the earth. All the stations had them. They were the main access points for the Vampire Nation that still called the underground their home. Nearly half of their populace chose to live above ground like humans. They got apartments, jobs and pretty much reveled in blending in with the humans to stay safe.
The other half chose to stay in the tradition of subterranean dwelling. For easy access to their home, entry points were created so that vampires had easy access underground at a moments notice. You never knew when you’d get caught during the daylight hours. So these secret entrances were the best way to move around.
Each entrance was disguised from most humans. If you were one of those who were ‘in the know’, it still didn’t matter, because most of those people weren’t stupid enough to enter. Sure, you’d get a group of idiot teenagers, or those needing a place to hide who were foolish enough to enter. It was recognized by vampires, Apostates and Law Enforcement alike, that the underworld was out of human jurisdiction. Anyone or thing that entered the domain of the vampires were at the mercy of Vampire Law.
Enter at your own risk.
It had been a while since Nick entered these catacombs. He didn’t like it then, and he wasn’t going to like it now. This time it would be a little tricky. Since he turned down the request Apostate support, he had no authority or back up down there. The last time he entered, he was a hunter. He killed more than a few fangs, so it didn’t give him any good will with the Other-worldlies.
At the far end of the train tunnel. Just before the tracks disappeared into the dark corridor, An old dusty iron door with the words ‘Official Access: Do Not Enter’ spray-painted across it. It was so dirty that its bright orange color was muted by the amount of dust and soot caked on it; so much that it almost blended in with the blackish grey walls on either side.
Nick took another look around to make sure the place was devoid of commuters. No one was there, but he could see the shadows of people coming down the escalator. He quickly jumped down onto the train tracks and shuffled his way over toward the orange door, making sure he avoided the 3rd rail.
He pulled on the large door and it slowly started to budge. He’d remembered that vampires were slightly stronger than humans. They could probably open this door with one pull. But not him. It took Nick a half dozen grunting pulls before the door slowly swung open.
Looking back behind himself to make sure no one saw him, he started to walk inside. But just as he turn to enter the darkened entrance, he was startled to see a figure standing in front of him, just out of reach of the light.
“Jesus Christ!” he jumped back a bit. The figure was standing about 6 inches from his face when he turned around. He was a short pudgy man with slightly balding red hair. He wore a tattered Anthrax rock band t-shirt; tattered meaning less old and more fashionable. His eyes were just above the color of hazel, making them more of a milk-ish yellow.
“You don’t belong here.” He said calmly, his two fangs barely visible protruding from between his lips.
“I didn’t know they posted guards here now.” Nick said catching his breath.
“You don’t belong here.” He repeated.
“Understood. But I need to see the Queen.”
The vampire looked him up and down. “Alter Boy?” He asked, which was vampire slang for Apostate.
“Retired.” Nick replied. “I’m investigating the mystery vampire deaths. I’m guessing she’s expecting me.”
On the train, Nick had figured out Gabe and the meeting with Cleric Hayes. He knew they knew there was no way he’d work for the Apostates again. They just needed to get him to the meeting and to give him the information. They knew he’d be too curious to just let it go. He’d be locked onto the mystery like a bloodhound. Allowing him to flip off the Cleric and walk away was the best way for both sides to get what they wanted. He would get a chance to work on a case with no pushback from the Apostates, and The Church would get an independent investigator that could solve the case, or crash and burn with no responsibility on their end.
He didn’t blame Gabe for what he did. It was apparent the rash of otherworldly and human murders was making their paper thin alliance uneasy. All he wanted to do now is keep it from spilling onto the streets.
“No one told me you were coming. I would know.” The vampire said.
“My name is Nick Poole.”
The vampire flinched. Not a lot. But Nick could see his eyes twitch.
“Yeah.. that Nick Poole.” Nick stood a little taller. “The last time I was here, things were a lot different. Now? I really don’t give a shit. I just need some information. So, take me to see the Queen or I’ll try to find my way there.” He stepped closer to the vampire, his gaze no longer ambivalent. “I can walk with you or through you.. It makes no difference.”
.
***************************
The trudge down through the catacombs took nearly a half hour. The dirt and gravel path was steep and winding, killing Nick’s ankles and calves as he tried to keep a firm footing and not slip. The vampire was a few paces ahead of him. Normally they could traverse the catacombs in a third of the time. Their speed, sight and hearing were incredible. To them, the darkness seemed like a house with no lights on in the middle of the day. Nick, on the other-hand was just a human. Even though his senses and physical attributes were heightened over decades of training and discipline, he still had no supernatural powers. He couldn’t see much. He could sense the outline of the vampire and he followed it with an uneasy trust.
Even though he couldn’t really see his surroundings, Nick’s honed senses still were working in overdrive. Along with the vampire he followed, others were in the darkness with them. They were moving along the walls and ceiling of the catacombs– observing him. They made very little sound. They were trained to stalk their prey. They made movements only when the sound could be masked by their prey’s movements. Nick counted at least three others. He couldn’t be sure, because they moved so well. He wasn’t worried about them attacking him. They could try to get the upper-hand, but he was trained well. He knew the sounds of a vampire attack. There was significant changes in the environment when a vampire is about to attack you. The locking of their bones and muscles when their about the pounce.. the sound of their jaws unhinging like a snake, just before they strike.. The rush of extra saliva from their mouths that carried a neurotoxin to help restrain their victims.
Nick was trained to notice these sudden changes and react accordingly. Not only did he know this, but also the vampires around him. There was a certain way underworldies and Apostates recognized each other. The last thing either side wanted was to tangle for no reason.
“You doing okay back there?” the Vampire asked. “I know it’s pretty dark. We wouldn’t want you to have an accident before we get where we’re going.”
Nick smiled. “Oh, I’m fine. I’ve done this before. There were accidents that day too. I don’t think either of us want that to happen, right?”
“Rudy.” He said. “My name is Rudy.”
“Glad to meet you Rudy. And don’t worry about me. You just lead me to the Queen and we’re all good.”
As they rounded the last corner, Nick could see a tunnel of light ahead. It was so bright, that it gave him a headache as his eyes tried to adjust.
“End of the line.” Rudy said as he disappeared into the light.
Nick noticed that the cadre of vampires that had been shadowing them stopped just short of the light. He figured they served their purpose as security for Rudy. No longer masking their movements, he could hear them scurrying back into the darkened caverns.
Nick kept his eyes down as he exited the catacombs. Watching his feet move, he noticed the gravely, dirty ground turn into a cobblestone walkway– pristine and shiny, as if someone had just washed and waxed it.
When his eyes adjusted to the light, he looked up to get his bearings. What he saw almost left him speechless. The last time he and the Apostates came here, it was a large cavernous dome made of dirt and rock. This new dwelling was nothing short than amazing.
The ceiling was lined with what he suspected was gigantic fluorescent lights, which gave the impression of daylight. The structure itself was a giant dome, similar to an indoor football field. Lines with the same cobblestones as far as the eye could see. Along the walls were walkways with circled the entire dome, leading to what looked like condominium-style dwellings. There had to be at least a hundred levels, all of them lined with doors, which must have been the primary vampire dwellings. Along the ground floor, there were streets, similar to vintage European towns. The first thing that came to mind were the miniature streets of Disneyland.
Nick stared at the vampire populous going about their lives as if they were human. There were shops and stores and parks and.. everything. Some had noticed him. There were whispers and murmurs. He had no doubt that some of them knew who he was.
He slowly kept walking further into the structure, in awe of these incredible wonders that these Underworldlies had created. How could there have been so much change in such a little time?
What was the master plan in all this?
“No master plan, Mr. Poole.” A voice called to him from a figure lost in the crowd of vampires in front of him. A short Asian woman in an impeccable blue Ladies’ Pant Suit approached him with a big grin. She had the most beautiful bright red hair that was folded into a bun. She looked as if she could’ve been in her early 40’s if she was human. But judging from the size of her protruding fangs and the milky color of her eyes, she could’ve been hundreds of years old.
“I’m sorry for reading your mind.” She apologized. “It’s standard procedure for visitors. We never know who’s coming to visit.”
Nick was still amazed. “Am I seeing some type of vampire glamour?”
“No”. She replied. “This is real.”
“But how did you..”
“It was our Queen.” She offered her hand. “Samantha Curry, Foreign Advisor to The Queen.”
Nick extended his hands and shook hers, still in awe of his surroundings. “Nick Poole. Apostate, retired.”
Samantha took a spot beside him and they slowly ventured further into the city. The vampire populace was very interested in Nick, but they still kept themselves at a good distance.
“I’m not the biggest fan of vampires.. But this is amazing.” Nick said.
“Thank you.” Sam responded. “Queen Lita was a naturalist. She believed that we vampires needed to live inside the Earth like our ancestors. When she was killed, newly-anointed Queen Preta decided to bury the old ways with her predecessor.”
They ventured past the center of town, which was a large flower nursery with strange vegetation that Nick didn’t recognize. They venture through the center walkway of the garden, looming ahead of them was a large palace double doorway.”
“I was expecting a ‘less warm’ welcome from you guys.” Nick said searching his pockets for his cigarettes.
Sam smiled. “We expected The Church to send an investigator. But we didn’t think they’d send a..” She chose her words carefully. “…Well, a veteran of the last war.”
Nick fought back a laugh. “So that’s what they call us down here?”
“Not really. I’m trying to be.. more enlightened.”
They both laughed.
When they reached the Palace door, it was the first time Nick had seen warrior-class vampires inside the structure. There were a half a dozen of them posted alongside the door. When he and Sam got close, all six of them stood in front of the door. When they were within 5 yards of the guards, Sam quickly stepped in front and face Nick.
Her cold, yet soft hands lightly pressed against his chest, stopping him in his tracks.
“Mr. Poole. We need to get a few things straight before we proceed.” Sam said, in a gentle voice. “I need to know that you’re not hear to rekindle any– unresolved issues with the vampire hierarchy. Because you know any aggressive actions against Queen Preta will result in your immediate death.”
“I understand.” Nick replied. “Any issues I had with you guys died with Lita. Queen Preta pledged peace when she took over and as far as I know she’s held up her end of the bargain.”
“So The Church sends you hear under an official banner of non-aggression?”
Nick shook his head. “I’m not representing The Church. The Apostates convinced me to proceed as an independent investigator. I’m hoping not being aligned with anyone might erase the notion of me having any agendas.”
“Interesting..” Sam studied Nick’s expressions. She listened to his heart rate– his steady, calm breathing. She lightly probed the surfaces of his memories, looking for any signs of deception.
Nick did nothing to fight it. After all, he was telling the truth.
“As far as I’m concerned, there’s no issue here. We all want the same thing. And apparently The Church is so spooked by this, they’re willing to beg me to help them.”
Sam exhaled, which Nick thought was strange because Vampires didn’t breathe.
“That’s good to know.” She started the walk toward the gate. Two of the warrior vampires opened the double-doors. When Nick tried the follow, they other four stepped in front of him.
“I will relay your request to The Queen.” Sam said entering the Palace doors. “Please wait here while I clear everything up.”
She disappeared into the darkness and the doors were promptly closed.
.
***************************
Nick found his wrinkled back of cigarettes in his back pocket. He pulled the pack out to find it was almost full. He’d promised his self that he’d stop smoking. For the past couple months he’d been doing a great job. He’d given up all his vices except his few pints at The Last Round.
“Fuck it. Perfect excuse to fall off the wagon.” He popped a menthol in his mouth and proceeded to light-up. As the lighter’s flame caught the cigarette and he inhaled to spark it, he looked up to see all six warrior vampires staring at him. There was no joy or malice in their faces. They were all blank, as if they were statues.
Then the closest vampire broke ranks and started to walk over toward him. He readied himself for some display of aggression.
But none came.
“Bum a smoke?” the vampire asked with a grin.
“Really?” Nick was startled. “You guys smoke?”
The vampire shrugged. “Lungs don’t work. But at least we can taste it.”
Nick slid his disposable lighter inside the cigarette carton’s plastic wrap and then tossed the whole thing toe vampire.
“Enjoy.”
The vampire nodded with a slight grin in appreciation and went back to share with the others.
‘Crazy shit.’ Nick thought to himself.
He’d love to call Gabe and tell him that he was sharing a smoke with a vampire. To be honest, the entire situation was crazy.
Further back into the garden, Nick found an empty bench surrounded by stunning blue and purple flowers. He thought they looked like orchids but a lot bigger. Each flower was the size of a 10-speed bicycle wheel. He sat down and took another long drag on his cigarette. He looked back at the Palace gate to see the warrior vamps still keeping an eye on him. They were a little more animated now, and each was enjoying a cigarette, but they made sure to keep the former Apostate in their view.
Nick didn’t mind. He understood the importance of protecting the hierarchy. All he needed was to get information from The Queen and figure out where he stood in the investigation. He reached inside his coat pocket and pulled out his phone. He expected to be out of range for a signal, but he was pleasantly surprised to see he had 4 bars.
‘Better reception than I get topside.’ He thought to himself.‘Mutherfucking AT&T.’
Checking his email, he saw that Cleric Hayes had emailed him the presentation and a few other documents concerning the investigation. He quickly sifted through the PowerPoint slides until he reached the images. He wanted to study the picture of the four vampire carcasses.
Something bothered him that went more than just the mystery of the bodies void of internal fluids. The fact that they were all posed in an attack or defensive position suggested that whatever happened to them was instantaneous. It was something they didn’t see coming, nor had time to react to.
He zoomed in and and scrolled around the image, looking at the surrounding areas. The grass, the structures, objects around them– nothing seemed out of place. It was as if the bodies had been ‘placed’ or ‘posed’ there after the face. He then studied a fact that the Apostates seemed to pass over– the slight indented impressions in the bodies. From what he could see, three of the bodies had them. The fourth was positioned in a way that he couldn’t see any indentations, but he assumed they were there. The incredibly detailed image allowed him to zoom in with an sharp clarity that amazed him. He could see the impressions clearly. He noticed there weren’t any cuts or burns around the area. It was as if nothing touched them.
He went back to the mail app and composed a reply to Cleric Hayes.
“Please send me toxicology on body impressions ASAP. Need to know of any chemical burns or mystical residue.”
He pressed SEND and slid his phone back into his inside coat pocket, just as Samantha appeared at the Palace entrance. It appeared she was finishing up a call. Curiously, she had a very stern look on her face while the phone was attached to her ear. Once she hung up and looked in Nick’s direction, that warm, inviting grin returned to greet him.
“Checking email?” She asked.
“Yeah. Getting info on the case.”
“One of The Queen’s big pushes is embracing technology on a global scale. We got 4G/LTE installed about 5 months ago. Isn’t AT&T great?”
Nick had to smile. “Wonderful.”
Samantha started to walk back toward the Palace gate and gestured for Nick to follow her.
“The Queen has agreed to see you. She seems happy that you come here under no affiliation.”
“I’m glad.” he answered.
As they passed the half dozen warrior vamps and entered the gateway, Nick felt like he’d just entered the lobby of a 5-star hotel. Large candelabras on both ends of the 20 yard corridor lit the way. Nick was sure that Samantha did that for his benefit. The spartan area was lined with deep burgundy love seats and shined gold fixtures. Under their feet was a burgundy royal carpet leading up to the door at the end of the hall. Nick notice the flickering luminance radiating from under the door. The Queen had readied her quarters for her visitor.
As they reached the door, Samantha stopped and maneuvered herself toward the side of the corridor.
“This is as far as I go, Mr. Poole.” She said pulling out her phone– the screen immediately lighting her face. “Please be on your best behavior.”
Sam immediately went to thumb-tapping on her iPhone.
Nick was puzzled. “So what? I just go in and you stand there checking email?”
Samantha glanced up. “No. You go in and I’ll be standing here playing Plants vs. Zombies.” She went back to her phone. “Addictive little shits.”
Nick smiled.
.
***************************
Nick pushed the double doors to The Queen’s Quarters open. The finely crafted doors seemed to float inward smoothly and quietly. Nick expected a Victorian-style bedroom, complete with lavish fireplace and canopy bed with all the trimmings. What he saw was a fairly modern-looking office which was larger than his entire apartment. The two adjacent walls to his left were lined with bookcases and old literature that stretched to the ceiling, which was a good 20 feet high. To his right, on the wall was a 80” television, hanging over a modest-looking fireplace.
The floors were dark hardwood and his steps echoed as he walked in. Ahead of him was a large, slightly circular desk with a tall burgundy leather chair. A 34” curved computer monitor was the only thing that sat on the spartan desk. It’s metal grey frame blended perfectly with the desk’s dark reddish color. The room was immaculately clean, as if someone had just unwrapped everything. It had that new leather smell that Nick loved so much.
As he stepped further into the office, he didn’t notice that the doors floated close until they were shut. His instinct was to reach for a weapon, but he fought back the urge. He knew the Queen was observing him. Even though Samantha had read him a couple times, he knew she could never be too careful.
Instantly, Nick sensed her presence behind him.
“I come in peace.” He smiled.
“I can see that.” A soft voice called from behind him.
Nick slowly turned around, with a great expectation of how the Queen would appear. He expected to see this incredibly curvy Elvira, Mistress of the Dark figure in a semi see-through black silk dress, long sexy black hair and protruding fangs, lightly spotted with blood.
He was disappointed.
She was wearing a dark burgundy suit with a black shirt. Her hair was a dirty blonde color which hung over her face slightly covering her thin-rimmed glasses. She was short, maybe around 5 foot 5. She had the body of an athlete. In all, she was absolutely gorgeous– a perfect balance of sex and sensibility.
And he was still disappointed.
Queen Peta laughed. “Really? Mistress of the Dark?”
Nick forgot his mind was open. All he could do is shrug in embarrassment.
“That could be considered borderline racist.” She approached him. “You men and your fantasies…”
She offered her hand and Nick took it.
“I am Peta Vassiliadis, 63rd Queen of the Vampire Nation.”
He returned the greeting. “Nick Poole, Graphic Designer.”
“Please… I know who you are, Mr. Poole.” She was amused.
Nick tried to finish the handshake, but the Queen didn’t let go.
She stared at him– grinning.
“I know what you did. I was there that day.”
Her grip felt like his hand was trapped in the vise of a stone statue. He wanted to struggle to get his hand back but he didn’t. He wasn’t in any danger. This was the Queen establishing that she was in the position of power, and that he would have to accept that he lived or died by her will.
“Do we have a problem?” he softly asked.
She said nothing at first, staring into his eyes– almost staring through him. Eventually she let go of her grip.
“None at all.” She replied. “Just sizing you up, I guess.”
Nick flexed his fingers to try and get the feeling back. “I hope I’m rating higher than food today.”
“This is the first time I’ve had to deal with human relations since the treaty.” She continued. “Forgive me if I seem a little guarded.”
“No apologies necessary.” He responded. “I think we’re all needing extended time to adjust.”
Queen Peta poured a couple glases of scotch at the mini bar standing next to her desk. When she approached him again, she had the two very spartan crystal glasses, each lined with a drink– two fingers tall.
“Here you go.” She handed him one of the glasses. “This is one of my favorites. An Auchentoshan ’73, neat.”
Nick was surprised. “Wait. How did you…” he was going to ask the question, but he realized again that she had skimmed his mind. He thought it was to read his thoughts. But it seemed she just wanted a crash course in Nick Alexander Poole. “I’m never gonna get use to that.”
She laughed. “Again, I apologize for our ways. We do things a little differently down here. It’s a little more.. efficient.”
The Queen then took her place behind her desk and gestured for Nick to sit in the smaller chair facing her. To Nick, it almost felt like a job interview. In a way, it was. She needed to understand where the former Apostate was coming from, what were his motives and who’s side was he on.
Nick took a sip. The scotch hit is tongue and then the back of his throat with no burn. The smell alone seemed to get him excited.
“Goddamn.” He muttered under his breath.
The Queen smiled. “I thought you’d enjoy that. When I read you, I saw you was a scotch man.”
“Yes ma’am.” He replied taking a seat and continuing his drink.
At first, they both sat in silence, gathering their thoughts.
“Judging from our past history, I have to tell you that I have no faith, or trust in The Church.” She said.
Nick shrugged. “Well.. Judging from our past history, I don’t trust The Church either. So we’re in agreement there.” He took another sip of scotch. “But in all fairness, I don’t have much trust for vampires either.”
“I can respect that.” She replied. “Trust has to be earned.”
“Agreed.” Nick reached into his inside coat pocket and pulled out his phone. He clicked through the menus until he reached the email from Cleric Hayes. He slid the phone across the large desk toward the Queen. “That’s everything I got so far. It isn’t much, but it’s a start.”
Queen Peta scanned the device. She studied the pictures and the vague report.
She looked up at Nick. “I was told there was no information.”
Nick smiled. “So much for trust.” He had to put all his cards on the table. There was no use hiding things from her. If she wanted, she could rip the thoughts from his brain. He needed her trust and commitment. If that meant throwing Cleric Hayes and The Apostates under the bus, so be it. “I’m putting my cards on the table, Queeny..”
Peta smirked. “..Queeny?”
“I’m coming into this whole thing blind. I don’t know who to trust. So I’m need to take a leap of faith.”
The Queen slid the phone back across the table. “The Vampire Nation isn’t behind this.”
“I believe you.” He replied. “But I’m gonna need your help. I’m an outsider. I don’t have any clout above or below ground. When people push me, I need to be able to push back.”
She smiled. “You have it. What else do you require?”
“Nothing right now.” Nick stood, adjusting his coat– careful not to take his eyes off of the Queen. “But I think things are gonna get a little.. dicey in the next couple days. You’re gonna hear things. You need to know that everything I do will be in the interest in solving the case. Please remember that.”
The Queen nodded. Nick moved his chair back into the position he found it.
“Wait.” The Queen said. “Before you leave..”
She reached under the mini bar and pulled out a slightly dusty bottle. With a big grin she tossed the bottle over to him. Knowing what it was, Nick reached out an made sure he caught it firmly in his grasp.
“Shit.” He said, turning over the dusty brown bottle over to see the faded white label positioned at the bottom. He hugged it like a child.
“Drink it slow.” Peta said. “There aren’t many like that left.”
“Many thanks.” He bowed. “But don’t expect me to show you favoritism, just because you’re giving me this.. incredibly.. sexy.. delicious.. bottle of scotch.” Nick was talking playfully. But when he looked up at the Queen, he saw she’d taken it different.
“I don’t need favoritism, Mr. Poole. I need the truth. I need to know my people are safe.” The expression on her face went from stern to concerned.
“I’m committed to this treaty— so much that I turned on my Queen, whom I loved with all my heart. I stabbed her in the back, literally. Do you know how that feels? I took a wooden stake from our sworn enemy and plunged it into her back. I had her ashes still on me when I took the throne and ended the war. That’s how committed I am to this peace.”
“I meant no disrespect.”
She smiled in acknowledgment and lightly patted him on the shoulder a few times.
She turned and walked back toward her desk.
“Let me know if you have any needs that the ‘proper channels’ can’t fill. She flopped into her chair as if she was exhausted. “I got a little pull down here.”
Nick laughed. “Thank you.” He started to waive to her, but then caught himself. He wasn’t use to royalty of any kind. “Uh.. quick question.. How do I leave?”
The Queen looked amusingly puzzled. “The door, of course.”
“Do a I bow and walk backwards? Curtsey? Cartwheel?”
“No.” She replied. “Just turn and walk out. Besides, you have a nice ass.”
Nick chuckled and exited the room. As he passed the threshold, he was greeted by Samantha who had just put her phone away.
Nick smiled. “Zombies get you?”
She sighed. “That game is the Devil’s work. In any case, I hope you got what you needed?”
“Yes. We seem to be on the same page.”
“Good. Just head for the entrance. I’ll phone ahead and have someone to escort you out.” Samantha pulled out a business card and handed to him. “I’m sure the Queen will put me in the line of fire for updates on the case. So if you need anything, call me day or night. I don’t need to sleep.”
Nick nodded and walked into the darkened corridor, heading for the exit.
Samantha watched him walk away until his reached the out archway and walked past the guards out front. After he disappeared from site, she turned and walked into Queen Peta’s office. She was behind the desk, recline deeply her chair, rocking back and forth. Samantha closed the doors behind her.
“So..” Peta asked. “what’s your first impression?”
Samantha smiled. “Nice ass.”
Peta laughed. “I agree! And your second impression?”
Samantha took the seat opposite the desk.
“He was a little nervous. But after what happened down here last time, I don’t blame him.” she sighed. “I read his mind a few times. There were no indications that he was deceiving us.”
“I got the same feeling.” Peta replied. “But he was an Apostate. He’s training to fool mind-scans. Still, he seems genuine.” She stood and walked to her burning fireplace. She pulled one of the pokers for its resting place and started tending to the fire.
“My gut tells me that Mr. Poole is being honest. The one thing he couldn’t hide is his distaste for the Apotheosis Order. That puts us on an equal playing field.” she turned to Samantha. “Your thoughts?”
“Mr. Poole is an ally. Still..” she sighed. “It’s better to be safe than sorry.”
Peta finished with the fire. For a few moments she seemed lost in thought. Samantha knew where she was going. If you stripped everything from Peta Vassiliadis, she’d still be an excellent strategist. It was her plans that the The Order of Apotheosis followed to depose of the last Queen. “Worse case scenario. What happens if the Apostates blame us for these murders? What happens if we go to war again so soon?” She waited for her answer, still facing away from Samantha, as if she feared the answer.
Samantha gathered her thoughts.
“Taken into consideration that the San Francisco Order of Apotheosiscould have troop reinforcements from Northern and Southern California, including human military and police assistance.. and the fact that we’ve been relocated to this Subterranean Reservation.. there’s a 71% chance that we’d be wiped out inside of 4 hours.”
“How is that possible.” Peta turned, shocked.
“Our feeding regiment is still in flux. We’ve got a few places above ground that provide blood, but we can barely keep the majority of the population fed. We have enough to keep everyone functional, but it would take a massacre to get us up to strength.”
“So..” Peta found her seat again. “The only thing keeping us from taking the fall on this.. is Nick Poole?”
Samantha nodded.
“OK. Then we have to make sure he succeeds.” she sat up straight, place her elbows on the table and resting her chin on her fists. “Do we have any freshly-turned citizens?”
Samantha checked her phone. “Not many. There are two who joined us a couple nights ago. That’s it.”
“Send me the youngest.” Once again she was lost in thought. “We need ‘eyes’ on this situation.”
First Responder
Abigail had painted the back wall of the store manager’s office with his blood and brain matter. 3 minutes before, she’d pulled a gun on him at the cash register, forced him to close the shop and directed him to the back to open his safe. She didn’t mean to shoot him. But it had been almost 12 hours since she’d shot up, and her reflexes weren’t at their best.
He had all the money from the store in his palms when she shot him.
His head snapped back and split open. Hands threw the small stacks of loose bills into the air and through his head’s red mist. She scooped up the crumpled bills, sticky with blood and brain and shoved them into her coat pockets. Her eyes stayed fixed on the managers head, now matted against the wall, a giant dripping splash of blood running down. He was now cross-eyed, and looking at the ceiling. His mouth gaped open, blood and spit oozing onto his work vest. She scurried to his body and scavenged the stray bills stained with redness on his vest and pants.
Abigail had just made it to her feet when she first heard the noise. Startled, she swung the gun around toward the entrance. There was nothing but blackness outside the office door. Her arm shook violently but she managed to keep the gun steady.
She listened intently, trying to hear the noise again. There was none. Everything was silent. With the gun still raised, she slowly started to shuffle toward the darkened entrance. She knew five steps into the darkness and she’d be once again back into the store itself.
She heard the sound again.
This time it was more pronounced. It sounded like someone moving a box. It came from her left. She adjusted her aim, scanning the aisles as he walked forward.
“Come out!” she yelled. “Motherfucker, come out now!” There was a slight delay and then there was that sound again. This time it was louder. It was like something hit the wall. She heard herself yelp this time; the gun almost fumbling out of her grip.
Abby realized it came from outside. She quickly holstered the gun and made sure there weren’t any stray $20 bills hanging out of her long coat. Her clothes were stained with blood spatters, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it. She used her hands to wipe off whatever she could. When she reached the entrance, she turned to the front counter and looked at the register. The tray was open and there were a few bills hanging over the edge. She quickly scurried over, hopped up partially onto the counter and grabbed the remaining bills. When she climbed back down from the counter, she paused for a moment, expecting that sound to come again.
There was none.
Abigail exited the store and tried not to look unusual. It was just past midnight, so there wasn’t anyone out in that secluded area of South San Francisco. She turned up her collar and headed for the darkened road that she’d normally walk for a couple miles to get home. On the way she’d stop for a big bottle of Jim Bean, which would get her through the night until she can call her dealer and score some more horse.
As she crossed the street, she heard that noise once again. This time it was even louder. She nearly jumped out of her skin; a few bills fell from her pocket. She was going to leave them and make a hasty retreat, but the thought of the police and the crime scene and how CSI can pull fingerprints out of everything made her second guess her course of action. She turned and quickly scurried back and started to gather up the bills the wind was pushing along the ground.
Abby finally scooped up the last bill when the sound came once again. This time if felt more like a physical push. It felt like it hit her in the chest. She was in a kneeling position, but when the hard ‘thump’ came again, it felt like a blow to her chest. She fell on her ass, her coat flying open and even more bills blowing away in the wind.
‘Fuckity fuck fuck!’ Abigail thought to herself.
She frantically clawed for what money she could grab before it flew away into the darkness; anticipating hearing police sirens at any moment. Flashing red and blue lights would circle the area and she’d be arrested for first degree murder.
Any second now.
But so far, there was only the brisk breeze passing her ears. So she kept clawing at the loose bills. Each second she grabbed at just one more bill.
The seconds passed and she had nearly collected all the green notes that hadn’t blown away into the night. One last 20 dollar bill had been caught on a blade of grass a few yards away.
A strong gust of wind blew past her. It caught the bill in it’s gail and it started to wiggle loose and skim along the grass. Abigail crawled on all-fours and managed to leap, arms stretched. Her right fingertips caught the edge of the bill before it could blow away.
She smiled.
And then the thumping blow hit her again.
This time it was like an explosion hit near her right side. She was off her feet, once again her coat flying open and bills lofting off into the wind.
“No!” she cried out. Her head hit the asphalt. Dirt and rocks scraped along her cheek. She could feel the gravel grinding into her skin. Her lips brushed the dirty ground. She coughed and it kicked up a mini dirt storm.
Abby rolled onto her back, grasping her chest. That last blow made her heart skip a beat. She tried to will herself to get up.
“Fuck the money.”
All she need to do was push herself up and and make a dash down the road. She was quick. Whatever it was, it was slow and lumbering. She had outran the cops on numerous occasions, so outrunning.. whatever it is shouldn’t be a problem.
‘Move, Abby!!’ she screamed inside her head. ‘FUCKING MOVE!’
She rolled onto her stomach and managed to get to her feet. All she cared out was the highway ten yards away from her. If she could make to the highway, she’d be safe.. or at least on her way to being safe. Abby took off running. Her coat flinging open in the wind, she had no regard for what money notes were left in her pockets. All she cared out was a few paces in front of her.
And as her final step started to the edge of the asphalt highway, she felt the air around her being sucked away, as if someone had turned off the wind. When the next blow hit, it felt like the voice of God. This time she screamed with the invisible wall of power struck her from behind. She was tossed from the ground like a trampoline. The asphalt highway ahead of her literally contracted and then expanded, leaving any dust and dirt that was on it’s surface appearing to be frozen in midair.
She spun end-over-end 6 feet off the ground and slammed face-first onto the asphalt highway. She knew she lost teeth when she landed. The salty taste of blood filled her mouth like vomit. Her body tumbled a half dozen times along the ground until she rolled into the dirt on the opposite side of the road.
Abby sobbed uncontrollably; coughing up blood onto the now-muddy dirt. Her arms and legs burned with red hotness from the asphalt scrapes as she sit up.
That’s when she heard the footsteps coming. But they were too heavy to be normal footsteps. They were loud, and course and abrasive.. like rock rubbing against rock.
She had to move. Abby willed herself to start crawling along the ground. She still had one goal. She had to get up and retreat down the highway. It was her only chance. On all-fours, she started to crawl along the side of the road, trying to keep her stride a little faster than the approaching invisible steps. She tried not to think of her approaching hunter. She focused on the darkness that the road disappeared into.
And then she heard something far off in the distance.
The rumble of a motor coming up the road behind her. Rolled on her ass to see behind herself. Dimly in the distance, she could see the glare of two headlights slowly brightening over the horizon. Her mouth stretched open to reveal empty, bloody gums and blood drizzling down her chin. If she had teeth, you’d see a huge smile behind her gaping lips.
Abby gathered herself. She steadied her shaky legs under her. With everything she had, she pushed herself up and into a standing position. Stumbling into the middle of the road she started to wave her arms in the air and yell at the approaching vehicle.
And then she caught it out of the corner of her eye.
Abigail realized she had almost gotten away.
Almost. .
***************************
Officer Everett James knew he shouldn’t be on the road. After pulling a double shift at the precinct, he pulled another 5 hour stint as a bouncer at a friends club for extra money. He was planning on taking Emma on a trip to the Napa Valley. The French Laundry, a highly-rated restaurant in Napa was a dream place for her to eat. Unfortunately, it took him several months to get a reservation and two paychecks saved to support the weekend.
He could feel his self nodding off. He currently had Public Enemy’s ‘It’s Takes A Nation Of Millions To Hold Us Back’ blasting in the speakers. He was hoping the sound of Flavor Flav’s screeching voice would be enough to keep him awake.
He was wrong.
After his third time drifting into the wrong lane, he realized he wasn’t going to make it home. He still had a 45 minute drive to get to his tiny apartment in Pacific Heights. There had to be a motel along the way. He figured he stop and crash in a room for a few hours, and then take off with enough time to weave through traffic and make it to the precinct by roll-call.
He pressed and held the home button on his iPhone.
It beeped twice.
“Find me a motel.”
It beeped again. and the ‘processing’ icon rotated for a few seconds.
Then it responded.
‘I’M SORRY. BUT I CAN’T PERFORM YOUR REQUEST RIGHT NOW. PLEASE TRY AGAIN IN A FEW MINUTES.’
Everett looked more closely at the phone screen. He saw he only had one bar of reception.
“Fucking AT&T..” he mumbled under his breath.
He reached down the press the home button again, when something in the middle of the road caught his peripheral vision. His muscles tightened as he looked up into the view of his headlights.
It was a person.
A woman with blood all over her clothes standing the middle of the road. She waved her arms violently in the air. Everett could hear her screams faintly through his rolled up windows.
“Shit fuck!!!” he cried out. He gripped the steering wheel and pumped the breaks, just hard enough for the wheels not to lock up.
On instinct, he swerved left, just missing her in the middle of the road. The right side of his patrol car passed closeeee enough to see that the blood on her clothes was pouring from her gaping mouth. Her screams whisked passed him like Dolby® Surround Sound.
The patrol car drove onto the side of the road. He missed the girl but he was heading directly into the steep hill which lead down toward the forest’s edge.
His defensive driving training took over. With a fluid motion, he pulled the steering wheel to the right, trying to change direction back on the road, while not pulling the car into a skid. His shoulder slammed hard into the door. His head bounced off of the door window, which disoriented him for a moment. If he didn’t have on his seatbelt, things would’ve been a lot worse.
Even though the slow steering was bringing him very close to the edge, he couldn’t bring the car around any faster, for fear of flipping it during the turn. The patrol car just missed the edge of the drop. He skidded back onto the road and brought the car into an almost complete 180 degree fish-tale.
Everett rocked back into his seat. Dust and smoke crept up around the car from where the 4 Wheel-Drive tires scraped dirt on the side and the pavement.
His heart was pounding. Everett was definitely awake now.
The Officer wanted to take a moment to catch his breath, but then he heard the woman in the road’s screams again.
“HELP MEEEEEE!” She screamed out from beyond the dust and smoke.
Duty called.
As he leaned in toward the passenger seat and unlocked the glove compartment, he felt the lines of blood dripping from the left side of his head. He must’ve cut himself when he head-butted the door window. He would have to worry about that later. He reached into the glove compartment and grabbed his standard police issued Glock .22 handgun.
“PLEASE HELP MEEEEE!” she cried out again.
As he sat back up, he realized he could now see through the thinning dust and smoke. Through the dissipating haze, he saw the woman once again. He could tell she was dragging herself along the road toward him. Blood and spit were dripping from her mouth. There was a trail of redness 4 yards behind her.
Everett climbed out of the car and made sure he still had his faculties. He holstered his gun but kept his hand on the grip handle like he’d been taught.
“Stay there, Ma’am!” he said approaching the injured woman, yet keeping his eyes open. He reached for his radio handset, which normally was in a cradle above the right side of his chest. His nervous hand found nothing. The receiver was dangling by a cord against his thigh. He grabbed it and pressed the transmit button.
“HQ, this is Officer Everett, I have a 10-52 on Highway 84, off of La Handa Creed Road. I need an ambulance. I have an injured White female in need of medical assistance.”
“Additional units and medical assistance en route.” came back over his Walkie.
The Officer holstered the handset and focused back on the woman.
He was about ten yards away from her by now.
By this time, the smoke and dust was pretty much gone, and Everett had a clear view of the woman. She was no longer screaming for help. She was sitting on her butt, facing away from him. She was scooting towards him, staring out in front of them.
And that’s when he saw It. He didn’t actually see it at first. It was too dark. There was no detail for his eyes to cling to. The only thing he could see as the silhouette of the large hulking figure backlit by the lights coming from the gas station.
His eyes had to be deceiving him. Maybe he indeed had a concussion from the blow to the head. But judging by the distance between himself and the store, the shadowy figure had to be at least 8 feet tall. It was wide— VERY wide; dimensions of The Incredible Hulk wide.
It had something in it’s humungous right hand. It had a firm grip, yet the weapon was so big that it must’ve been dragging along the ground.
“Oh God!” the woman’s trembling words snapped him back to reality.
Everett pulled his gun.
The figure stood silent.
“My name is Officer Everett James with the San Francisco Police Department. I’m ordering you to drop your weapon and put your hands behind your head!”
The figure didn’t move. Everett couldn’t see It’s face. But judging by the position of it’s head, he could see that it was staring at the injured woman. She, on the other hand was splitting her focus between the officer and the monster. Her head swung back and forth– she was trapped between two warriors.
“I SAID DROP THE WEAPON!” he said again, this time with more authority.
Still, there was no response from the shadow giant.
Everett knew he was in trouble. He didn’t understand the situation, or who/what the figure in the darkness was. But he knew that he was outmatched in strength and firepower.
He had choices. He could hear the faint sounds of sirens on the wind, which meant help was on the way. He could try and keep the situation at a standoff until reinforcements arrived. But instincts told him that his adversary wouldn’t wait that long. He could just start shooting and hope that a headshot will put it down. He could fabricate a story that the assailant was attacking. But he didn’t think he could live with instigating a firefight. He had one other play, and it was his best chance. He had to get the injured woman to the patrol car and retreat from the area.
He took deep breaths to try and control his fear. He was an officer of the law. He was trained for these situations. He was the authority, and he’d save this citizen by any means– even if he had to put the assailant down.
He firmed his grip on his Glock and started to slowly approach the woman, while keeping his eyes and his aim firmly glued to the shadowy giant.
As he grew closer to the woman, the shadow figure stirred!
Everett boasted. “Do not move! If you make any sudden movement, I will shoot! I’m not bullshittin’! I’ll empty my clip into..”
Before he could finish his order, the creature sent back a reply.
It spoke one word– one force of nature that enveloped Everett and forced the air from his lungs..
“JUDGEMENT!” The Thing unleashed into the wind, and it made Everett’s knees buckle.
His gun-sites fell as he tried to regain his composure. That’s when Abigail started to scream hysterically again. Officer James was overwhelmed, but the screaming got him refocused. He raised his gun just in time to see that the giant shadowy creature was on the move. He started to slowly walk toward the woman. His weapon, which Everett now saw was some sort of giant hammer, was dragging behind him. Incredibly large sparks flown into the air and lit up the scene as the metal hit the pavement. The orangish flames revealed more of this figure.
It was not a man, that he knew now. It was a Thing.
It’s skin was a grayish white– almost the color and texture of limestone. It was naked. It didn’t have any genitalia. It was a giant, textured, wide figure, as if it was carved out of stone. Brief flashes from the weapons friction sparks revealed that it had giant oil-black orbs for eyes. They were shiny, and glassy, like giant opals. It had no nose, and it’s mouth was a wide slit that seemed to cross its entire face. It’s footsteps sounded like rock on metal– each seemed to make an imprint and buckle the pavement.
Everett cocked his gun and set his sights on head and chest.
Abigail was frozen with fear. She now saw what Everett saw, and she wasn’t handling it as well.
“Stop!” Everett commanded.
The thing didn’t listen. Effortlessly it swung it’s hammer over it’s head, focusing on the woman.
That’s when Everett started to shoot.
The cracks of gunshots bellowed. Abigail covered her ears and rolled into the fetal position. His aim was spot-on, but he couldn’t tell if he was hitting the creature. It didn’t phase him. There were no jolts from impacts– No bullet wounds– the creature just kept focusing on Abigail.
Everett counted his shots. As soon as he emptied all 15 rounds into the giant stranger, he hit the clip release and reached for his spare. But he didn’t have time to reload.
The giant hammer came thundering down onto the ground. The blow buckled the pavement– it literally embedded itself into the hard asphalt nearly a foot deep. Everett watched the ground around it break up and the shockwave of rock and dirt balloon outward like ripples from a tsunami. He witnessed only a fraction of a second before the shockwave hit him. There was three ripples of earth expanding, growing exponentially.
He watched it hit Abigail first.
She was tossed as if someone yanked her into the air on a wire. At that moment, her screams were silenced. His first instinct was to chase her and retrieve her where she landed. But that was just an instance of thought. He didn’t have time to do anything.
When he was rocked by the shockwave, it wasn’t the oncoming rockwaves that hit him. There was an invisible barrier that seem to precede the wave that struck him. He hadn’t felt anything so powerful since he was hit by a semi truck as a kid, leaving him with a concussion, two cracked ribs and a right leg broken in three places.
The wind with instantly gone from his lungs. Everett didn’t realize he was off of his feet until the patrol car came into his sights. He was in the air, upside down, maybe four feet off the ground. He watched as the rock-wave reached his patrol car. He expected the vehicle to be lifted of the ground instantly. Instead, the ground end buckled upward and folded the car in half. Then it toppled down the road like a crushed soda can.
Everett hit the dirt ground and bounce back up and over the embankment alongside the road. He rolled down the steep hill and into the shallow group of forest trees. He met the nearest tree with his right side. When he hit the tree, it felt like the rest of his body wrapped around its wide trunk. For a few instances, he knew he had to be paralyzed. His lips tasted dirt. He gasped for breath, but kept taking in dirt into his lungs. He cough violently.
And then he heard the woman’s insane screaming again in the echoing distance. His eyes opened wide and he had rolled over on all fours.
Before he realized it, he was crawling up the steep embankment.
“Get to the girl. Get to the girl. Get to the girl…” he kept repeating to his self.
He dug his bloody fingers into the soft, wet dirt and willed himself to climb. His boots dug in deep. He was a good 5 yards away from the top. Quickly scurrying up the side of the hill, he realized how insane the situation was. Once he reached the top of the hill.. what then? He’s had to find his gun, and then find his extra clip, reload and then once again assault that creature. He’d have to find a way to disable it. Maybe shoot at his right arm, disabling his weapon. Maybe that’ll give him enough time get the woman to safety. His ride was totaled, so they wouldn’t be escaping by patrol car. He did notice the extremely tall grass on the other side of the road. Maybe that could hide in there.
Everett nearly reached the top. His thighs, ankles and forearms were burning with fatigue. He could feel the cold breeze rushing from over the edge of the embankment. Two more push-n-pulls and he’d be back on top.
As his left hand cupped the edge of the hilltop, he took a deep breath for one final motion to push himself over the edge.
“JUDGEMENT!” called out from over the edge.
Everett knew he was too late.
The woman whaled one last cried of horror. This time it was more primal– as if her lungs exploded and her vocal chords ripped apart.
The final scream ended with the second blow from the creature’s hammer.
“Shit.” Everett mumbled as he heard the shockwave approaching.
The last thing he remembered was the dirt and rock from the hillside attacking him. Jagged pieces of gravel struck his face like bullets. He was tossed into the air and arced back down toward the forest. His head struck the ground and he once again rolled back into the same tree, but he was unconscious before he made it to the bottom.
.
***************************
His next memory was that of light dancing through his eyelids. There were voices swirling around him, but he was too disoriented to understand what was going on. He moved his head and a sharp pain sprang down his neck and back.
His eyes bursted open.
Everett awoke to a paramedic and a police officer standing over him.
“Hey there.” the female Paramedic said. “Welcome back. Do you know who you are?”
Everett coughed. “Marky Mark, king of the Funky Bunch.”
The paramedic laugh. “I think not. You don’t have the abs.”
He slowly sat up with the help of the paramedics and propped up against the tree.
“Everett James, San Fran Police officer, March 12th, and Barack Obama.” he smiled. “Did I pass?”
The Paramedic turned to the cop. “Is he normally a dick?”
The cop smiled and nodded. “Yeah. That’s EJ in his natural state.”
“Oh.. then yes, you passed.”
After a few more medical checks, Everett made his way up a makeshift ladder back up to the road.
A fire truck, ambulance and three patrol cars were on the scene, but they were parked a good ways down the street. They couldn’t really get any closer due to the condition of the road. The ground in a twenty yard radius looked like a rock quarry. As if someone had taken a giant jackhammer and mixed the rock and soil into a giant mesh. His crushed cruiser was partially visible in the tall grass across the street. The red and blue lights were still flickering through mangled metal and glass.
Apparently he’d been out for close to twenty minutes. Detective Miles Landry was the first person to find Everett while he was canvasing the area. He had finished ‘yellow taping’ the area when he saw the officer unconscious at the bottom of the hill. He initially though Everett was still in the destroyed patrol car.
Detective Landry was a few yards away standing over a hole, surrounded by yellow tape. Everett made his way slowly toward him. When he reached the whole, he immediately knew this was where the injured woman ended up. Inside the whole, was a mangled vision of meat and bone, wrapped around the woman tattered closes. That Thing had crushed her with it’s hammer. The edges of the whole were splashed deeply with redness.
Everett had to turn away. He still didn’t know what he just witnessed. He took in the carnage of the entire area.
“What the fuck…”
Team Building Pt. 1
Nick didn’t make it home until well past midnight. He was so tired, that he decided to take a cab from the train station to his apartment. Even the walk up the annoying two flights of steps seemed like a daunting task.
When he reached his entrance to his apartment, he leaned forward until his head hit the Burgundy-stained wooden door. His forehead kept his body propped up while he fidgeted in his pocket for his keys. It took him 3 tries to unlock his door.
His dark apartment was inviting. He was ready to just shut the door an curl up onto the living room floor.
It wasn’t until he dropped his keys into the bowl on the bookshelf that he noticed the other presence in the room. He was taught not to make any sudden moves when sensing danger. Whoever or whatever was in the room needed to think it still had the upper hand.
He feigned a giant yawn and stretch his arms wide as he walked into his small breakfast nook and slid his coat off onto the floor. As the coat rolled off of his shoulders and down his back, he tightened the firm grip on his Glock .22 previously nestled in his inside pocket. As the coat floated downward, Nick turned and put the gunsights directly on the darkened corner between his front door and his living-room window.
He was trained to sense the presence of otherworldly beings. But overtime, he realized it was easier to just rely on the genetic actions of the creatures he was hunting. All creatures had different habits. Zombies couldn’t help but moan when they attacked human flesh. The intensity of Apparitions could be gauged by how low a temperature drops in the room. Witches couldn’t use their unnatural powers without showing their true face.. which more times than not was hideous. And Vampires tended to grind their teeth, and make clicking sounds when their jaws unhinged. This time, there was no tell. But instinct told him, he was not alone. Something else was in the room with him.
With his gun still centered on the empty space, he slowly eased down into his chair and used his other hand to reach for the light switch.
When the brightness filled the room, he expected his intruder to make his move. Maybe the luminance would reveal some type of apparition lurching toward him or some grotesque thing scurrying along the wall or ceiling.
Up came the fluorescent lights in the kitchen, breakfast nook and living room. Far in the distant corner, perched on-top of the back of his old wingback chair like a bird on a wire, was a vampire. She sat in a crouched position; her arms folded across her knees with her eyesight slightly peaking over them. Her silky black hair obstructed what was left of her face.
Nick kept a steady aim on her. For the first few moments, neither of them moved. Scenarios ran through his mind.
Had the Queen double-crossed him?
Was this the only vampire in the place?
Was this young one the distraction for the others to flank him?
Nick spoke. “I don’t know what you’re doing here, but this isn’t going to end well for you.” he cocked his gun’s hammer. “I have a full clip of .40 hollow-point rounds laced with silver and wood shavings– standard Apostate ammunition.”
When the young vampire stepped down, she seemed to float to the carpet. When her feet finally touched the floor, he saw that she must’ve been around 5 and half feet tall. She couldn’t have been more than 16 years of age when she was turned. She wore baggy Levi’s jeans and a black t-shirt with the words Real Vampires Don’t Sparkle written large in red letters across the chest.
He chuckled.
He hated those movies too.
“What are you doing?” Were the first words she spoke. She now had an annoyed look on her face.
“What are you doing?” Nick replied.
“Uh.. I’m just standing here?” she grew aggravated.
“And I’m pointing this gun at your face!” Nick took a couple steps closer.
The vampire took two steps back and raised her hands in the air. It was less a gesture of concern, and more annoyance. “Why?! I haven’t done anything to you!”
“You broke into my house!”
The Vampire was about to yell back but she paused for a second. “Ok, yeah.. you have a point.” She smiled uneasy. “Let’s start over. Hi. My name is Lana.”
“Hello, Lana. Now leave.” Nick grew closer, his aim still fixed on her forehead.
“I was sent directly by Queen Vassiliadis.”
“Why?”
“To be her liaison during your investigation.”
Nick lowered his gun and put it on the table. “For Christ sake. I don’t need a Liaison.”
Lana loosened up. “That’s not what I heard.”
“What did you hear?”
“Representatives from all parties concerned would aid you in this investigation..”
“What all concerned parties are you..”
Before he could finish, there was a knock at the door. Outside the window, Nick could once again, see the flashing red and blue lights of the patrol car parked on the street.
Nick sighed. “Make yourself at home.” he said to Lana as he shuffled past her toward the door. The young vampire walked back and flopped down into the dusty wing-chair– her iPhone already in her hands and texting.
Nick opened the door to find Apostate Alec once again gracing his entrance.
“Hi, Mr. Poole. It’s me..”
“Yeah, yeah. I know who you are.”
Nick gestured for Alec to come in. The gangly Apostate signaled to the cops outside to leave and then came in, closing the door behind him. He was startled when he noticed Lana sitting in the chair to his left.
“Vampire!” Alec jumped.
Lana didn’t even glance up from her phone.
“Hey.” she mumbled, lazily throwing up a two finger peace sign.
“Why is there a vampire in your living room?” Alec called out.
Nick was in the kitchen messing with the coffee machine. “She’s the vampire you. You’re my Liaison from the church, right?”
“Yes.” Alec made his way toward the kitchen, keeping a close eye on Lana, who was still more interested in Instagram than with him.
The Apostate draped his long coat across the back to the nearest chair, and ventured into the kitchen to find Nick filling his coffeemaker with water.
He looked at Alec and noticed he was wearing jeans and a white t-shirt. “Where’s you’re collar, Father?”
The Apostate smirked. “I’m off duty. And blasphemy is not funny, Sir.”
“Sorry” he apologized. “Those things just look so.. stupid.”
Alec approached Nick with a look of concern on his face. “Can we get back to the vampire in your living room?”
“Why are my ears burning?” came Lana’s voice from behind him.
When Alec turned around, he was shocked to see Lana was standing only a few inches away from him. Even though her short frame was tall enough to reach his chest, he knew she was dangerous. As she looked up at him, he could barely see her reddish-tinged eyes behind the blanket of jet black hair.
“I’m trained in four forms of deadly combat.” Alec’s voice cracked.
Lana giggled. “I’m trained to eat you.”
Alex flinched seeing her fangs slowly lower in-front of her smile.
“That’s enough, Children.” Nick interrupted. “None of that Eternal Holy War bullshit in my house.” He looked over and saw them still staring each other down. “I mean it! I left The Faith so I wouldn’t have to deal with this shit.”
Lana was the first to break. She shook her head. “You’re not worth it.” She leaned sideways until she could see around Alec super slim frame and had Nick in her sights. “So.. we’re all cool with this, right? We’re doing this?”
“Is there any chance I can refuse?” Nick asked pouring himself a coffee.
“I think not.” Alec replied, looking down at Lana’s smiling fangs.
“Well, I guess we’re doing this.”
He approached them, carrying two white semi-clean mugs in each hand. “Coffee?”
.
***************************
Everett James tried not to notice all the looks he got from his fellow officers as he left the police station. After being discharged from the hospital, he was subjected to a day’s worth of intensive questioning concerning the incident on Highway 84. The crime scene was a disaster area, and involved the gruesome death of a gas station manager and what is believed to be what was left of a white female.
He had given his account of what happened a half dozen times to the investigators. He couldn’t blame them. Every time he recounted his story, he couldn’t believe it has just happened to him less than a day before.
His story was articulate and thorough. He answered every question with complete honesty and there were no loose ends the investigators could find. But the tale was so over the top, that no officer in his right mind could take his story as the truth.
In the end, Everett was instructed to surrender his gun and badge. He was told he would be taken off duty, until a complete investigation could be performed, along with mandatory sessions with the department psychologist. Everett couldn’t argue with the investigators. He lived the incident and still had trouble comprehending the sequence of events. He could still hear the woman’s screams for help. And he could still feel that thing’s cry for JUDGEMENT.
He reached his car, popped open the trunk and tossed in his backpack and a large bankers box with some of his personal items inside. When he closed the trunk, a figure was revealed to be standing next to his passenger side door. He was a tall scruffy man in a tan trench coat. He had an uneasy smile on his face. The first thing Everett thought was he must be another Internal Affairs Agent coming to ask more questions.
“Officer James?” the man asked.
“Who wants to know?” He replied heading for the drivers-side door.
“My name is Nick Poole. I’d like to ask you some questions, if possible.”
“You know, what? I’ve been answering questions all day, Mr. Poole. Right now, I’m just gonna go home and get drunk. You have anymore questions, speak to my Union Rep.”
Nick made his way around the car. “I’m not from the Department. We’re independent investigators, working on a case that might be tied to what you experience last night.”
“We?” Everett asked.
Nick motioned to the tall, lanky man and the small pale girl standing just behind him.
‘The Odd Squad’. Everett snickered to himself. “Listen, I don’t care who you are. My Rep says to keep my mouth shut until..”
“You’re Rep isn’t trying to stop a killer.” Nick interrupted. “We are.”
“What the fuck do you want to know?!?” Everett exploded. “You want to know what I saw?!? You want to know about the giant 8 foot tall rock monster with the fucking big hammer trashed me and my squad car and then killing a woman in the middle of the highway?!?”
“That would put its death toll at eleven.”
Everett stopped in his tracks. “What?”
“It’s not the first time.” Nick walked to Everett and then shut his car’s door. “Let me guess.. It shouted the word: ‘JUDGEMENT’ and then pretty much turned the entire area into a disaster zone? It’s been here for over a month.”
“What’s been here for a month? What the hell is it?”
“We don’t know. That’s why we need you. The another piece of the puzzle.”
Everett shook his head. “I wish I could help you. But I’ve been suspended. The Department doesn’t believe a word I’m saying.”
“We don’t need the Department.” Nick replied. “They couldn’t do anything about it, if they tried. We need you.”
Team Building Pt. 2
Everett stood in the middle of his tiny living room, pacing back and forth as he recounted the events of the night before– one more time for the benefit of this strange team. Nick and Alec sat on opposite ends of a brown leather couch, while Lana stood, leaning against the wall, browsing Some social website on her phone. Officer James waited for the looks of disbelief that he’d seen at the department when he was interrogated. But there was none. Both Alec and Nick listened intently, yet showed no signs of amazement from his tale.
“So.. that’s it.” he finished. “Investigators on the scene found no trace of Grey Hammer Guy. No tracks to say where it was.. no evidence to say it was actually there.” Everett took a swig from his glass of scotch. “Chances are I’m going to lose my job. And I can’t blame ’em. I don’t even believe this bullshit myself.”
“A Golem..” Lana’s voice came from the back of the room. “Gotta be a Golem.” she finished, still with her phone stuck to her face.
“It’s not a Golem.” Alec replied. “They’re made of dirt and don’t use weapons. Plus, they’re tied to a specific person’s need for vengeance. This doesn’t feel like that.”
“A what?” Everett tried to ask, but the others ignored him.
“Erinyes?” Alec suggested?
“Erin what?” Everett was lost.
“Hell Furies.” Nick responded. “Vengeance Deities. And no. They crave the acknowledgement. They wouldn’t do anything this secretive.”
“What the fuck are you people talking about!?!” Everett finally lost it. “What the fuck did I see out on that road?!?”
Nick and Alec looked at each other. They both acknowledged that Everett was too far down the rabbit-hole to be turned away. Both men had spent the better part of their career convincing normal people that the supernatural didn’t exist. Civilians were easy to program. They could be convinced there were perfect explanations for strange things. Tricks of light, drug-induced crazies, unusual weather patterns— these were all things people could adapt to, and later forget. But Everett James didn’t just witness a supernatural occurrence. He became a part of one. Whatever that thing was, it showed it’s true nature to the officer and nearly killed him in pursuit of it’s prey.
“Tell me.” Everett yelled.
Nick sighed, turning to Alec. “What do you think? Should I rip the band-aid off quickly, or give him the full speech?”
“Band-aid, please. I choose the Band-aid.” Everett said impatient.
Nick stood and went to pour himself another scotch. He hated these reveal moments. You could never tell how the person was going to take it.
He took a swig from his glass.
“Okay. Here it goes.” He took a deep breath. “Monsters.. are real.”
Everett stared back at him with a blank look on his face. “Pardon?”
“Monsters are real. Vampires, werewolves, zombies, ghosts, Smurfs.. they’re all real. Don’t tell anyone.”
“Smurfs?” Everett asked.
“Yep. Smurfs.” Alec shook his head.
“Little evil motherfuckers.” Lana added, still engrossed with her phone.
There was a long, silent pause in the room.
Nick could almost see the gears turning inside of Everett’s head. This was the danger of ripping the band-aid off. Depending on the person, this could lead to hysterical disbelief, or some type of religious awakening that would make everything even worse.
“Oh God..” Everett snapped, burning his face in his hands. “Oh God, what the hell am I doing? The Shrink was right. I’m slowly going crazy talking about how a Grey Hulk with Thor’s hammer smashed up my patrol car and killed a woman. And now I’ve invited 3 crazy-ass street people into my house to talk about it.”
“You’re not nuts.” Nick responded. “I know it’s hard to take in but…”
“Fuck you!! You’re standing in my living room– slash den– slash breakfast nook trying to convince me.. that vampires are real! Get the fuck out of here!”
“Everett, Please..”
“No! Seriously! Get the fuck out of my house before I shoot you! I’m still a cop for a few more hours so the shooting would be justified and legal!”
Nick sighed. “Shit. Ok, I didn’t want to have to do this. It was my last resort.”
Everett snarked. “What are you gonna do? Call the Chupacabra to come and eat me?”
Alec laughed. “Don’t be stupid. The Chupacabra isn’t real.”
“Shut the fuck up!!” Everett lashed out. “SHUT THE FUCK UP!!! I WAN’T EVERYONE OUT NOW!!”
Nick glanced over at the far end of the room. “Lana?”
The young girl’s eyes annoyingly glanced up from her phone.
“Show him.” Nick said.
She rolled her eyes. “Seriously, dude?” Lana whined.
“Show.. Him..”
Nick directed Everett to focus his attention to the tiny teenager on the other side of the room. Her eyes darted back and forth between Nick and Alec.
“Fucking fuck, dude…” she mumbled under her breath, putting her phone in her pocket.
The Apostate just shrugged and sat back waiting for the show.
“Hey..” Lana called out to Everett and waited for his sunken eyes to lock onto hers. When she was convinced she had his full attention, she preceded to slowly peel the layers of her self-control back. She allowed the bloodlust, thinly simmering underneath her control to slowly boil over.
At first, Everett just stared at her angrily.
But then he saw something.. unusual. The young girls eyes, which he’d seen up close earlier, he could’ve sworn were a bright shade of blue. But the pupils he was locked into at the moment seem to be a bright shade of red. Wait.. not the pupils. Her entire eye-sockets seem to be bloody.
Lana’s vision seemed to blur. She could feel the hunger forcing the glands just under her lower jawbone to swell. The tangy taste of venom mixed with her saliva. She was at the tipping point. She was hungry. And their were three ‘happy meals’ waiting for her on the other-side of the living room / den / breakfast nook.
Everett was still in disbelief of Lana’s red eyes when her lower jaw unhinged. Her mouth elongated and her lower jaw spread outward like a snake. Her blackened gums seemed to recede, revealing more pristinely white teeth. No.. her gums weren’t receding. Her teeth seem to grow.
His heart stopped.
There was almost a hint of sorry and embarrassment in Lana’s red eyes. Her blood-curdling scream was loud– almost painful.
But Everett’s fear scream drowned hers out.
He was immediately backpedalling until he slammed into his cabinet, knocking over the bottle of Scotch.
Watching the bottle’s contents spill onto the floor was even more frightening to Nick.
“What the fuck.. what the fuck..what the fuck..” Everett screamed.
Seeing the Officer’s crazed look staring back at her, Lana quickly pulled the bloodlust back. Her face returned to normal within seconds, but the look of shame and embarrassment remained..
“Shit, guys.” she mumbled under her breath and quickly shuffled out of the room.
Nick tried to tend to Everett, who was now on the floor trying to get his mind right.
“Breathe.” he said to the fallen Officer, who was in the grips of a near psychotic break. His mouth was moving but nothing was coming out. “Breathe. It’s ok.”
“Her mouth..” he tried to comprehend. “What the fuckity fuck happened?”
Nick smiled and took a seat next to him. He patted Everett on the shoulder and handed him his drink.
“Vampire.”
.
***************************
Lana stood at the back of the kitchen, staring out the dirty screen door at the commotion going on across the alleyway. She could see into the neighbor’s backyard. It was a couple arguing about a broken lawn mower. The woman was angry that the man didn’t get it fixed when she told him. The man didn’t recall that conversation.
But she wasn’t focused on the argument. Even from 67 yards away, she could still see and smell the small, deep cuts he had on his hands and arms. It still amazed her how much detail she could take in from such a far distance. His arms flailing around in the heat of the argument, only seem to push the sweet smell of blood toward her.
She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. No one warned her about that before she was turned. No one warned her that the craving for blood would be so overpowering for her.. more so than cigarettes when she was human. They didn’t warn her about a lot of things.
Alec was the only one to notice Lana leave the room. After a few moments, he decided to follow her. He couldn’t tell you why. He’d only met the vampire a few hours before. But she looked so young and innocent. His need to ‘protect’ is what made him an Apostate.
Even though Lana was focused on the neighbor’s commotion, she still noticed Alec when he appeared at the kitchen door behind her. She could hear his heart pounding. She could feel its vibrations on her back. A vampire’s heightened senses could be maddening at times.
“I was turned four months ago.” Lana spoke without acknowledging Alec. “I met this guy.. Marco. He had the whole mysterious stranger thing happening.”
She turned to see Alec leaning against the wall and intently listening. “I told him I was eighteen.” she smiled. “Which I would’ve been in three more years.”
“Uh oh..” Alec said, immediately regretting it.
“Yeah..” she continued. “When he found out I was only fifteen, he pretty much tossed me aside– Left me in a hostel in Richmond. I never saw him again.”
“What’d you do?”
“Couldn’t bring myself to eat people, so I focused on animals. A lot of folks lost their cats and dogs that week.”
Alec walked forward to stand next to Lana.
“I dreamed of becoming a vampire the moment I found out they were real. And now.. shit..” She looked up at him. “Be careful what you wish for.”
“Didn’t realize you guys.. feel.” Alec said.
“Yeah we do. Feelings, taste, smell.. everything’s on overload. Kinda sucks at first.”
“Sorry for being an asshole.” He apologized.
She smiled behind her mess of black hair. She stretched out her fist, anticipating the appropriate ‘fist bump’ of acceptance.
Alec responded appropriately.
He continued. “I can’t understand what you’re going through. But I do understand how things are never what they may seem. I was trained to be this Righteous Warrior in the fight between good and evil. Seek out the monsters. Fight the monsters. Kill the monsters…”
Lana chuckled. “And now? What have you found out?”
“That there are no real monsters. Well, there are… just not most of them. Just people who are a little more different than usual.. if that makes any sense.”
Lana smiled. “There is no Santa Claus.”
Alec smile. “Exactly. Just a fat guy in a red velvet suit with fuzzy trim.”
They both laughed to cover up the uncomfortable silence. They both just stood and watched the couple across the way continue to fight. They both agreed that that man wasn’t fairing so well.
Eventually, Lana looked up at Alec. “So.. this make us friends now, right?”
“Afraid so.” He replied. “We can’t be fighting crime while trying to kill each other.”
They both laughed again.
.
***************************
When Lana and Alec made it back the the living room / den / breakfast nook, Everett and Nick had relocated to the couch. Both men were silently sipping on full glasses of scotch by this time. Everett and Lana locked eyes, and there was a short awkward moment of silence..
“So.. are we cool?” Lana was the first to speak.
“Yeah.” Everett replied. “I think we’re good.” He stood and walked over to face Lana more pronounced. “Sorry for flipping out. You’re my first vampire.”
She nodded with a grin and then ventured back into her corner, once again staring at her phone.
“Alright!” Nick started rubbing his hands together. “Great team-building session.”
He grabbed the bottle of scotch and topped off his already full glass.
“Here’s what we know. We have a supernatural being of unknown origin who seems to be killing indiscriminately in the San Francisco area. He’s big, grey and carries what seems to be a giant death hammer.”
“Death Hammer?” Alec interrupted. “Is that what it is?”
“I don’t know.” Nick answered. “I’m branding this as we go..”
“I don’t think it’s killing indiscriminately.” Everett timidly chimed in. “The woman who was murdered near the gas station. she was a junky. Also, there was evidence suggesting she actually murdered a store clerk at the station.”
The officer grabbed one of the boxes he’d packed from the police station and pulled out a case folder. He sifted through the loose pages until he found the filed crime scene notes.
“A week ago, the body of a middle-aged man, Gregory Pinter was found in the alleyway behind his house. His wife said he went to take out the trash, and never came back. The police searched the alley the next day and found what looked like a pile of bloody crap two yards away from his fence. The cement alley had been dug up.. similar to Highway 80, only on a smaller scale. The lab is currently testing for DNA, but you put my crime scene photos next to the Pinter murder, and you can see they’re connected.”
Everett dived back in to his box of evidence. “I dug a little further and found Pinter was attached to a series of murders in Rocky Hill, Connecticut almost a decade before. The cops couldn’t make anything stick. There’s a few other unsolved cases that seem to fit his modus operandi.”
Nick was intrigued. “So.. there’s a chance this Thing is targeting murderers? Maybe we got something like a Soul Collector?”
Alec shook his head. “Nope. The Mystics have been on high alert this whole time. No special Collection Contracts have been issued in the last couple years.”
Nick thought for a moment. “Everett, do you have a city map handy?”
The Sheriff nodded and then dug deep into his box of evidence. He pulled out a very worn map and carefully spread it out across his coffee table, careful not to rip the areas with holes any larger. The others gathered around… including Lana, to see what was happening.
Nick grabbed a marker from Everett’s box and marked the area’s of Gregory Pinter and the Sheriff’s unknown murder victim.
“Okay, here’s the murder locations we know…”
He then started to add more locations taken from the Apostate investigation. The pin marks seemed to be scattered across the Bay Area with no discernible pattern. They all stared downward in silence.
As Nick left the circle to pour himself another scotch, he heard Everett speak up.
“Hmm..” The Officer tilted his head curiously.
“What?”
“What’s the time table for the the other murders?”
Nick handed him his phone with the murder spreadsheet. Everett quickly sorted the document cells to list by ascending dates. His gazed darted back and forth between the phone and the map.
“You got something?” Nick said, more as a statement than a question.
“I.. don’t know.” Everett grabbed the marker from Nick. “But I think there’s a pattern.”
“No, there isn’t.” Alec said. “We ran all the data through a host of computer algorithms. There weren’t any patterns found.”
“Yeah well…” Everett took the marker and started to connect the dots. “…I’m no computer. I’m just a cop with a set of eyes and a pretty good sense of intuition.”
After all the lines were drawn, they all gazed on a set of erratic zig zag lines that seemed to dart around the city.
“I don’t see it.” Lana said.
Everett smiled. “You don’t see it because it’s not really there.” He then started to draw more lines on the map– this time drawing a single line through the erratic zig zags. “It isn’t a pattern. It’s a primitive search grid.”
He grabbed a roll of tape from his box and preceded to tape-up the map on the wall.
“It wasn’t following a known pattern. It was hitting targets and then readjusting it’s direction after each murder. You can see as time went on, the distance between the murders got smaller and seemed to be circling around toward San Francisco proper.”
Everett took a swig of scotch.
“I think this is some type of primitive grid pattern search. Don’t quote me, but my gut tells me whatever It is, it’s looking for someone, someplace, or something.”
Nick smiled. “Shit. Welcome to the team, Sheriff.” He turned to the group. “Unless anyone else has a better idea of what’s happening, we just roll with Everett’s theory.”
“So what do we do now?” Lana asked.
“Now?” Alex grabbed his iPhone and texted the word ‘9 1 1’ to a contact labeled ‘In The Cloud’. “Now we go cash in some chips.” A few seconds later, the contact responded ‘SATSUMA MANDARIN SALAD’.
“I don’t have any chips.” Lana responded.
“You don’t..” Nick smiled, grabbing his coat. “..but Alec’s bosses and your Queen do.”
Postcards The Edge
Nick and Everett emerged from the Powell Street BART station, onto the hustle and bustle of San Francisco’s Market Street. The afternoon sun had long passed over the city’s metropolitan skyline and headed out toward the ocean’s horizon. The time had just passed Friday’s 4 o’clock mark, so the mass of city workers were starting to pour out of the surrounding buildings and head for their cars and public transportation.
Nicolas decided to split the team in half to cover more ground. They still didn’t have their killer’s identity, but they had some clues to focus on. He decided to take Everett with him so he could field the millions of questions the officer would have, and make sure he was acclimating to the realization that the world is a much bigger and stranger place than he’d once known.
“The James Flood Building?” Everett asked. “Your contact is somewhere in the there?”
“Yep.” Alex replied, checking his text messages. “Well, they’re not exactly in the building. It’s just the best way to reach them.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
Nick smiled. “It’s not suppose to. They like the screw with your head like that.” He gestured towards the Starbucks about a block away. “Go grab a Latte. I’ll meet you there once I’m finished. I shouldn’t be more than 20 minutes, Earth time.”
“Earth time? What? I can’t go with you?” Everett asked.
“Not this time. I’m lucky they’re seeing me right now. I’m not running in these circles anymore, and I’m not even sure i’ll be able to get in.”
Nick pulled back on the heavy, glass-paned door and stepped into the Flood Building’s lobby. The rustic brown architecture took him back to a simpler time. The lobby was nearly empty, save the security guard sitting at the entrance desk.
He knew the protocol. Getting access to the Top Floor required humans to jump through a few hoops.
First, you needed to ‘know someone’ who knew how to get access. That was near to impossible. To be truthful, very few people even knew of the Top Floor’s existence. It was the way They wanted it.
Second, you needed to acquire the appropriate password combination to be granted access. This wasn’t something you could fake. Each password was given specifically for one person to be used at a specific time. It could be anything from a four letter word, to a full paragraph from a famous tome. If you could obtain both of these pieces of information, you’ve achieved the impossible.
The final hurdle would be standing before The Gatekeeper who would judge your admittance simply on what energy he or she gets from your aura. This is the last line of defense at the entrance. More than a few unclean entities had tried to gain access to The Top Floor for nefarious reasons. But without The Gatekeeper’s approval, the only places you had access to were the Flood Building’s twelve floors on this plane of existence.
Nicolas approached the security front desk, which was situated opposite the three elevators and directly in-between the entrance doors on opposite sides of the building. The security guard was a heavy-set Black man with a short afro, dyed platinum blonde.
“Sign in, please.” The guard said without looking up from his computer screen.
Nicolas cleared his throat. “I have a food delivery for the Top Floor.”
The Guard looked up and stared at him for a few seconds.
Nick felt very uncomfortable. The Gatekeeper was given access to your Soul Code. That meant he could see and judge your past and present deeds. Not just what you had done, but why you did it. Every moment from the day you were born, to that specific moment was on trial.
“Hmmm.” the Guard said with a half smile. “I know you.”
“Uh oh.” Nick said under his breath.
“How’d you get access?” he asked. He swiveled his chair slightly, so that he could directly face the man asking for access.
“I called in every favor I had. It’s that important.”
“I can see.” The guard sighed. “What’s on the menu?”
Nick spoke the password. “Satsuma Mandarin Salad?”
The guard smiled. “That sounds delicious. I hope they enjoy it.”
From behind, Nicolas hear’s a loud ‘pong’, and turned to see the right-most elevator door opening. Another patron of the building was quickly walking toward the open elevator.
The Gatekeeper interceded. “No, Sir. You’ll have to wait for the next one.”
The patron, nodded annoyingly and stepped away.
Nick nodded in thanks to the Security Guard and entered the vintage lift. Among the twelve buttons that directed you to each floor, there was a white opaque button in the upper right corner. He pressed the button which closed the doors and sent him hurdling up toward The Top Floor.
.
***************************
The Dusty Keg was a used dive bar that sat quietly nestled alone the grimy streets of The Tenderloin. Bordering the neighborhood named Little Saigon, The Keg’s old wooden frame and entrance were easy to miss, if you didn’t venture down its narrow alleyway and around the mass of large trash cans.
Very few people frequented the Keg. At any time, you would find no more than 4 people sipping on drinks or playing pinball. The draw to his place wasn’t the crappy beer selection. It was the supernatural blind pig, or speakeasy as it’s more commonly known.
Lana emerged from a manhole cover at the other end of the alleyway. The sun was still pretty visible from the street, so she opted to travel by underground. She wasn’t the type of person to flaunt her strength, yet she climbed out of the sewer entrance, holding the 300lb. manhole cover like it was made of plastic. She replaced the cover onto the the hole, just as her partner arrived on the scene.
Alec chose to walk several blocks from BART, instead of venturing with Lana through the darkened underground corridors. They both seem to arrived at the Keg’s front door at the same time. Alec opened the door, and a rush of cool air washed over them. The smell of wood cleaner and cigarette smoke was on the air conditioner’s breeze. The smells welcomed them both. Without haste, Lana made her way toward the bar, while Alec stopped for a second to let his eyes adjust to the darkened room.
“So, a vampire and a priest walk into a bar..” the bartender smiled widely. “Ah.. I’m guessing you two have heard that one?”
Both Alec and Lana were not impressed.
The Bartender chuckled. “Tough room…” he reached down under the bar and brought up two large beer steins. “What can I do you for?”
“We’re here for the stuff in the back.” Lana replied, her face hidden behind black matted hair.
The bartender looked toward the back wall. “Ok. The pinball machine’s a little sticky, but the Pac Man machine is still…”
“You know what I mean.” Lana cut him off.
“Why would I know what you’re talking about?”
Lana sighed. “Last Tango in Madagascar.” She spoke the speakeasy password.
The bartender didn’t know what to say. Standing before him was a vampire, who somehow acquired the password for access into The Sacred Sanctum.
He chose his words carefully. “You know vampires aren’t permitted back there. It’s never a good idea to have My People and Your People in the same space.”
Alec took over, pulling out his credentials. “I believe my People talked to your People and cleared her People’s access. They’re expecting us.”
“Not the vampire.” The bartender stood his ground.
“Yes, the vampire too. And her name is Lana.”
She didn’t want him to see it, but Lana grinned behind her mess of hair.
“I suggest you talk to your people again. You’re waisting our time.” Alec continued.
The bartender sighed and then closed his eyes. When he opened them, his eye sockets were covered completely in whiteness. Alec speculated he was using a psychic connection to someone in the back to verify his appointment.
The bartender blinked once again and his eyes were normal.
“Sorry about that.,.” he apologized, looking toward Lana with a grin. “It’s the first time something like this was permitted. We’re living in strange times.”
Both Alec and Lana nodded in acceptance, as the large Pac Man video game machine rolled to the left, revealing an entranceway. The air seemed to be sucked out of the room and into the corridor that awaited them. Oddly enough, none of the current patrons were phased by the secret opening.
As they started to walk toward the entrance, the Bartender stopped them one last time. “Your conduct is key inside The Sanctum.” He warned. “Remember.. the people you’re about to meet are royalty in our circles. Because of that, they may seem to be a little..”
“Asshole-y?” Lana finished his sentence.
He smiled. “Not the word I’d choose to describe them, but… yeah. They may come off as arrogant. I suggest you just eat the bullshit and get through it. If they feel disrespected, you’ll get nothing.”
They both thanked him.
Alec pulled out a twenty dollar bill and put it on the counter. He didn’t know why he did it, but he saw the Bartender was pleasantly surprised.
They both entered The Sacred Sanctum of the Bay Area Witches.
All That Is Above and Below
Due to a trick of light, or magic or something, the long corridor Lana and Alec were walking through seemed to go on forever. They could see the exit opening ahead of them. It couldn’t have been more than a few yards away. But the more steps they took, the more the opening seemed to move farther away.
“They’re fucking with us.” Alec mouthed with no sound.
Lana, having incredible vampire hearing could decipher what he said from the air escaping from his mouth. She chuckled.
When they finally reached the doorway, it opened into an incredibly large cylindrical space. They seemed to be at the top floor, with close to a dozen floors below them. A large spiral staircase followed along the wall and headed downward.
To their right, a cloaked woman who appeared to be in her sixties stood at the start of the stairs.
“The counsel will see you now.” She said with a slight bow, and then urged them to follow her down the steps. Alec and Lana did just that.
Floor after floor, they journeyed down the spiraling stairwell. Each floor seemed to house living quarters, shops, classrooms and storage. Alec guestimated there were a couple hundred practicing witches in the space.
The half-way mark through their descent into the sanctum is when Lana first felt the wave of nausea well up from her stomach. Her skin became clammy and her legs felt a little wobbly. Alec noticed she wasn’t keeping pace with the rest of them.
“You ok?” he asked with a slight look of concerned.
Lana nodded. “I’m fine.”
“It’s the runes.” the escorting witch said, pointing to the walls around them. Around Lana, there seemed to be luminescent hieroglyphics radiating from the wall. “We have these in place to ward off any manner of creature who might attack us.”
Lana walked a few more steps downward and the nausea got worse.
“It’s not fatal.” the witch continued. “We do not practice hateful magic anymore. These are simply for protection. They only weaken our would-be enemies.”
“We aren’t your enemies.” Now Alec was deeply concerned. “We have permission to be here.”
Lana touched his shoulder. She smiled through the sickness.
“It’s ok. I can handle this.” She replied, taking deep breaths.
“You sure?”
She nodded. “You heard the witch. It’s not lethal. If this makes them feel safe enough to speak with us, I can tough it out.”
“Ok.” Alec replied grabbing her by the arm. “You’re officially a bad ass.”
By the time they made it to the bottom floor where The Witches Counsel convened, Lana could barely walk under her own power. She collapsed by the stairs and chose not to get up. Alec went to assist her, but she waved him off.
“I’m good here. Go do your thing.” She said, sitting indian-style and cradling her stomach.
Alec looked upon the five cloaked witches who stood within the inner circle. He immediately thought the chamber looked like a set from Game of Thrones.
“Winter is coming.” he heard one of the Witches whisper in an ominous tone.
“What?” he asked a little spooked.
After a long 5 seconds of silence, the cabal of witches started to laugh out loud. Alec speculated that one of them had read his thoughts at that moment. He smirked.
“Ah.. Good one.” He replied, unimpressed.
The center Witch approached him as they all removed their hoods.
“I’m sorry.” she said. “I couldn’t resist.” She stretched her hand out. “I am Wanda. Liaison to the counsel.” He should her hand.
Alec received it. “Alec Murrow, representative for The Order of Apotheosis.” He turned about pointed to his partner. “And that’s Lana, here by order of Queen Vassiliadis, of The Vampire Nation.”
Lana waived slightly, still clutching her stomach. She didn’t notice the young girl approaching her with a little trepidation. She carried a stone bowel filled with some type of green liquid.
Wanda spoke. “Drink it. It should calm your stomach. We didn’t feel removing the runes would be prudent. But we understand that you have come here under a flag of peace, Vampire.”
Lana slowly took the bowl from the young girl with a smile and nodded toward Wanda in gratitude.
The young girl scurried away without a word.
“Walk with me.” Wanda gestured to Alec to follow her. They slowly venture along the bottom courtyard which was decorated with string lights that lined the walls and wrapped around the mass of trees. Alec thought it must be like Christmas everyday down here. The cobblestones along the ground were clean and shiny, resembling some medieval village. On the wind, the sweet sounds of Motown soul were playing from one of the upper shops. This was not the witch den Alec expected.
“Amazing place.” he Said.
Wanda laughed. “You were expecting cauldrons? Bats? Pointed hats?”
Alec was embarrassed. “No. Just not what I was expecting. Does that make me racist? Witchist?”
“No, just ignorant.” Lana said from behind. She had caught up with them, once the herbs from the bowl had started doing their magic.
“All better, my sweet?” Wanda asked her.
“Yes ma’am, much better.” Lana responded from behind her mess of hair.
“Good.”
There was a picnic table and benches situated in the middle of the underground courtyard.
It was weird. Alex knew they were underground, but looking up and seeing tall trees growing up and disappearing into a hazy fog above home gave the impression of being in the woods on a foggy morning.
Wanda sat on one side, Alec and Lana on the other. As if on cue, two young girls approached the sitting group. One had a large bowl of fruit, which they put in front of Alec. The other had a ‘sippy’ cup which was given directly to Lana. She could smell the strong aroma of the blood through the plastic container. She did her best to keep her composure.
“When we knew you were coming,” Wanda spoke to Lana. “..we took up a collection. We offer you our life blood as a sign of respect. We recognize who and what you are, and we offer this to you in the spirit of friendship.”
“Thank you.” Lana replied and gently sipped through the straw. She felt the roar of hunger welling up from inside her. She thought she heard herself growl in ecstasy when the rich, mixed blood splashed against the walls of her throat. But she did her best to stay calm. The last thing she needed was the scare their sponsors.
“Why don’t you explain why you’re here and what can The Witches Counsel can do for you?”
Alec pulled a small stack a papers from his pocket. They had been tri-folded to neatly fit in his inside coat pocket. He neatly unfolded them and slid them across the table to Wanda.
“We’re part of an independent investigative group looking into a series of otherwordly and human murders…”
“The insect attacks in the tunnel?” Wanda butted in as she skimmed the papers. “The yuppy vampires in Merced Heights?”
“You know?” Lana asked.
Wanda shook her head. “We felt it. Whatever it is, it’s using something with a magical discharge that’s off the charts.”
Alec turned a few pages for her. “Yeah. Some type of hulking rock monster with a giant hammer. We have an eyewitness sketch in the back.”
Wanda shuffled to the end pages and stared at the detailed artists rendition of the monster. The drawing was filled with every detail Officer Everett James could remember. Even through his extensive Apostate training, Alec still had no clue to what this Thing was.
The witch shook her head. “It doesn’t look familiar. I’ve spent the last four years steeped in The Witch’s Archives and I’ve never come across anything like this.”
She handed the papers back to Alec who was visibly discouraged. But Wanda wasn’t done yet.
As he started to pull the papers back across the table, she grabbed his wrist.
“We may not know who or what it is.. but we do have it’s magical signature. Every being has a magical identification.. kinda like a fingerprint. No two are the same.”
Wanda called over one of the youngsters and whispered in her ear. The child happily nodded and then ran off into the village.
She turned her attention back to Alec. “We have the creature’s Magic ID from it’s recorded attacks. We might be able to do a locator spell to determine where it is right now.”
Alec’s face perked up. “If it’s not dangerous…”
Wanda smiled as she saw four of her sister witches approaching. “There shouldn’t be. The spell is typically omni-directional.” She turned to Lana. “After the war, Queen Vassiliadis reached out to The Witches Counsel in order to open a dialogue of peace. She has honored all of her promises toward the counsel. Her word now carries weight. She has asked for our assistance, and in the spirit of friendship, we give it.”
Lana smiled in acceptance.
The Witches prepared their spell…
.
***************************
Nicolas stood at the two-story tall floor window, staring down at the San Francisco skyline. He was easily 50 stories up, and couldn’t reconcile the fact that the Flood Building was only 12 stories high. Even though it was a mile to the north, he found himself looking down on the TransAmerica Building’s pyramid point. Looking up, he was so close the thin layer of clouds, he felt he could reach up and feel them passing through his fingertips.
“So no one can see us?” he asked.
Axiel walked to stand next to him. “Nope. The ARC doesn’t exist anywhere. It’s basically tucked just outside of existence.”
Nick made his way to the desk. “So is this… is this what heaven is like?”
“Oh no.” The Angel replied taking her place behind the desk. “This isn’t anything. The Heavenly Dimensions are kind of difficult to describe. The physical laws between dimensions vary.”
“Heavenly dimensions? As in plural.”
“Yes.”
“How many dimensions are there?”
Axiel smiled. “I don’t think there’s a number big enough to represent The Everything.”
“The… Everything?”
‘What’s the best away to describe it…‘ She thought for a moment. The Angelic Chronicler realized she was venturing down a rabbit hole with a human who could barely interpret the dimensional construct they were standing in. She had to ‘dumb it down‘ considerably.
“Think of your universe… I mean everything that was created in The Big Bang… as a grain of sand. The entirety of the vastness of the cosmos, condensed into one small spec of siliceous. If that grain of sand represents this universe, then an entire beach would represent The Everything. And on that beach, there are an infinite number of other grains of sand which each represent other universes. So… try to calculate the amount of sand on a beach, and you’ll fathom how difficult it is to understand The Everything.
“Well.. shit.” he replied, before he could stop himself. Did he just use profanity in the presence of an Angel?
Axiel laughed. “Yes. Very shit indeed.”
“What would the ocean represent?”
“Forget about the ocean.” she continued to laugh. “Just understand it’s ‘way big’ and you get the idea.”
Nicolas smiled back nervously. He couldn’t let her know that she had lost him at the part about the spec of sand.
Axiel leaned forward in her chair, elbows to desk and fists to chin. “So much for Cosmic Existence 101. Why have you come all this way? Keep in mind my knowledge is limited. Any Angels assigned to this plane of existence have been purposely locked out of everything, except what I’m suppose to know. It’s physically impossible for us to interfere, or leak information that would alter human existence.”
“What the hell does that even mean?”
“It means that Angels aren’t allowed to give otherworldly information to humans. It means that each Angel has a specific purpose in this realm and cannot interfere in another Angels duties. Each Angel stands alone. We have no information of other Angels and their duties.”
“I don’t need interference. I just need some information.” He pulled out his phone and started to scroll through his notes. “There’s something out here killing supernaturals and humans involved in acts of crime. We think it’s looking for something, but we can’t anticipate any type of pattern.”
She leaned back. “So.. it’s targeting evil?”
“More like evil deeds.” Nick motioned for Axiel to keep scrolling on his phone. “It’s killed vampires, insectoids, ghouls... But it’s also killed humans.. everything from serial killers and murders, to shoplifters. I’m concerned that whatever this thing is, it has no filter. It can’t distinguish between genocide and petty theft. It’s only a matter of time before it kills a jaywalker or…”
Nick’s voice trailed off as he focused on Axiel’s face. She had on blank, staring at whatever she found on the phone screen. Her pale complexion had seemed to grow even paler.
She gently put the phone on the desk, face down. She stared at Nicolas as if she wanted to say something… but couldn’t.
“Are you okay?” he asked her.
She shook her head. “I sorry, I can’t help you with this.” She slowly slid the phone back across the table toward him, while still keeping eye contact with him.
“Come on..” he started the protest, but she quickly cut him off.
“I’m sorry..” her stare became more intense. “I told you the rules and I have no choice but to send you on your way… with no assistance.”
“You have to leave.” Axiel said again. “Good day, Mr. Poole.”
“Right.” he replied, grabbing his coat. “Sure.”
He started to head for the door, when Axiel spoke again.
“Funny thing…” she started. Nick turned to look at her, his hand still on the doorknob. “I don’t know if this will help you. But, I told you how beings from other dimensions can’t exist here. But that’s not entirely true. There are rare instances when beings from both above and below have crossed over. Each being was given a totem to keep in their possession. It acts as a protective tether, allowing them to exist in a foreign dimension. While it’s on their person, they are protected for a short time.”
She rose from her seat behind her desk and approached Nick. “If what you’re dealing with is a being from another realm, they might possess one of these totems. If it is damaged or removed from their possession, they’ll be torn from this world and dragged back to their own.”
Axiel placed her beautiful hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you, Nicolas.”
“That’s ok. Sometime we help and don’t even realize it.”
Nicolas opened the door and once again stepped into the nothingness. The absence of sound engulfed him again and the pronounced sound of his footsteps and heartbeat filled his ears. As he drew close, the outline of the elevator door reopened ahead of him.
“Strange…” he heard Axiel call out from behind him. He turned just before stepping into the elevator to see Axiel peaking at him through the ARC’s hole of nothingness. “You’ve traversed the ARC twice and have yet to show any signs of stress to your person.”
Nicolas backed into the elevator. “There’s no stress. No sound… which feels pretty creepy. But nothing else.”
And as the elevator doors closes, he heard the Angel utter the word again.
“Strange…”
#
The elevator quietly descended back to the Earthly realm. Still readjusting his ears to normal, Nick grabbed his phone to call Everett. As he unlocked his phone, the screen revealed the last image Axiel had seen before she put the phone down. It was the Everett’s artist rendering of the being he confronted on that highway.
The detailed rendering was the last thing Axiel saw. It must’ve been the thing that made her face go pale. He knew that meant she knew what the thing was… but couldn’t tell him.
His eyes when wide. His skin went pale. The pit in his stomach became a cauldron of sick and nausea. He reached for the opaque button to take him back up to The Top Floor, but it had disappeared. His time was done, and there was no way to access the ARC without reacquiring a passcode.
But to be honest, he didn’t need to talk to Axiel again. He had all the information he needed.
He knew what it was… and in all his time as an Apostate, he had never been so frightened.
.
***************************
A few moments later, Nicolas’ elevator opened to the ground floor. He stopped and tried to fight the panic welling up inside his stomach.
He quickly bypassed the security guard on the way out, but not before giving him the ‘peace’ sign. The guard reciprocated without looking up from his desk.
As he stepped outside onto the street, he quickly scrolled through his phone’s recent calls to find Alec’s number.
His call went straight to voicemail.
.
***************************
Suspended Police Officer Everett James hadn’t taken a sip of his Vanilla Latte in 15 minutes. He sat in the corner booth of the Starbucks people watching the cast of characters walk by him to get in line. Only hours before he’d discovered that most of the things that go bump in the night were actually real.
He’d been attacked by a giant rocky Hulk-looking thing in the morning (he called it Rulk in his head). It destroyed his car and threw him off the edge of a cliff while in the act of murdering a woman, who might have or might not have been a murderer herself.
And if that wasn’t enough, he’d just witnessed the transformation of the real live vampire before his eyes. Sure, Lana turned out to be a pretty cool kid, but still… fucking vampires!!!
Nicolas had left him on his own as he went to get the counsel of some Angelic Beings somewhere in the sky. Everett didn’t ask questions. He was still processing the event of earlier today.
The vibration of his phone buzzing brought him out of his creature feature catatonic gaze. He took a quick sip of his Latte and was surprised to find it so cold. He studied his iPhone Lock Screen and found a text message from Nicolas’ number”
“RUSTY KEG.. TURK STREET.. GO NOW!!!”
The Hammer Falls
Five witches stood around a circular table with a vintage map rolled open on its surface. Floating 2 inches above it was a small sliver of quartz that acted as the locator beacon for whoever or whatever they were casting a spell to find. Wanda alongside Lana and Alec watching them as they chanted repeatedly, causing the hovering quartz to slowly move across the map, but eventually reset to it’s start location.
The Witch Circle had been at it for a little over 15 minutes. Each time, it was the same result.
“There’s something strange going on.” Wanda spoke. “Normally, the locator spells are flawless once we have the subject’s energy signature.”
“So whatever it is, it’s blocking spell?”
Wanda shook her head. “As impossible as that sounds, that seems to be the case.”
Lana stepped forward to look a little closer. As the witches’ chants escalated, the quartz locator seems to vibrate and then circle outwardly for a few rotations, but inevitably reset to it’s starting position.
The witches finished their final chant and then turned to Wanda.
The head witch nodded. “That will be all, Ladies. Thank you.”
The five of them nodded in acceptance and walked away toward the common area.
“I’m sorry, Alec. I thought it would work.” Wanda said. “But it seems we’re dealing with a power that’s unknown to us.”
Lana raised her hand, still focused on the map. “I have a question.”
She pointed to the quartz locator. “So the rock thingy keeps returning to the starting point after the spell fails. So, what’s the starting point?”
At that point, there was thunderous rumble and shook atrium. Rocks, dust and debri poured from the surrounding walls and ceiling.
Wanda, Alec and Wanda looked at each other.
“The spell worked.” Landa said with a surprised shock on her face.
Wanda panicked. “HONOR GUARD! POSITIONS!”
The next rumble was like a sonic boom. Windows shattered, rocks and debri fell like a landslide as the people in the atrium ran for cover.
From out of the cloud cover above, giant boulders the sizes of automobiles fell and exploded across the atrium grounds. What followed, was a giant hulking figure that landed on its feet with the power of an exploding bomb.
The ground buckled and ripped upward. Alec, Lana and Wanda were tossed several feet into the air and thrown into the walls.
The hulking monster gripped his hammer and surveyed the area.
It spoke. “JUDGEMENT!
.
***************************
Everett turned into the alleyway at top speed, but has the tembling sonic boom hit. It caused him to stumble into a mass of trashcans, but he quick got up and resumed his print toward The Rusty Keg, which was about 50 yards ahead of him. From the other end of the alleyway, he saw Nick turn the corner an they both arrived at the entrance at the same time.
“What the hell was that?” Everette asked, following Nick into the bar.
Inside the bar, the place was empty. To their left, they saw a large darkened opening next to a vintage pinball machine.
Nick sprinted with Everette in tow.
“This way!”
.
**************************
Lana was the first of the three to gain her composure. The hysterical screams of the innocent were the first things she focused on. As her vision cleared, she could only make out shapes moving within the clouds of dust and dirt in the air. Then, from the smokey swirls, the hulking 8 foot monster walked into view.
Lana tried to get to her feet, but she needed a few minutes to gain her strength.
“Alec!” She called out, worried that her partner got caught in the monster’s initial attack.
“I’m here!” She her his voice call back, and strong arms pull her up to her feet.
“We need to retreat.” he continued. “There’s nothing we can do against that thing!”
From the smoke, ten glowing blue tentacles wrapped themselves around the hulking monster, attempting to mobilize him. Two bands grabbed his neck, four grabbed both his arms and the rest, his legs. As the smoke began to clear, they could see the bands were magically weilded by 5 witches.
The monster fell to one knee as the witches tightened their grip on it.
And that’s been Lana took her shot. She was gone and already airborne before Alec and Wanda knew what was happening.
“Lana, no!!!” Alec yelled as he instinctively unholstered his firearm.
The vampire vaulted over and then landed on the creature’s back, trying to strangle him from behind.
What she did next was purely battle instinct.
She open her mouth and her lower jaw unhinged and spread outward to reveal bursting fangs in her upper jaw. Her eye went blood red as her head slammed into the monster’s neck and her her fangs slid inbetween the plates of his rock skin and sank into inknow flesh.
Lana’s attack seemed to wake the creature up. It stood up from it’s blended knee and began to shake off its attackers. First it swung it’s left arm and pulled hard on the magical bands. The two witches on the other end were sent flying over him and away into the smoke. He then frantically move his other arm and both of its legs wildly, causing the remain witches to lose their grip. The magical bands all seem to disintegrate, leaving Lana holding onto its neck for dear life.
The creature constantly skinned and bucked trying to shake the vampire loose, but she held on and thrashed at it’s neck trying to rip open what arteries it might have.
But then, she made a grave mistake. Lana took a drink of what passed for the creature’s blood. She violently drank and slurped until the spicey plasma filled her throat and stomach.
And then she project-vomited it all back up.
The creature’s blood spewed from Lana’s mouth like a fireman’s hose. It was glowing white, almost as id radioactive. Lana’s blood red eye sockets turned the same glowing white as she screamed and let her of her grip. Her lifeless body fell at the feet of the creature.
“Lana!” Alec scream as his took shots at the creature. The bullets did nothing. The creature barely the attack, as it was more interested in Lana’s body laying at its feet.
Alec quick reloaded this gun and continue to shoot at the creature’s head. The shots her direct hits, but still didn’t phase the creature.
It reached down at grabbed Lana by the leg. The unionscious vampire didn’t resist. It pulled her to close and seemed to examine her. It twirled her around, sniffing her body as if it was trying to determine what she was. The creature’s liquid dripped from Lana’s eyes, nose and mouth.
“Let her go!!” Alec screamed at the thing. He knew it was a stupid thing to say, but he didn’t know whatelse he could do.
“UNCLEAN” The creature said dropping Lana to its feet once more.
Alec quickly raced for her. He reached he reached her body just as she seems to be waking. The glowing plasma was gone from her eyes and nose and just now dripped form the side of her mouth.
“I’m never doing that again.” She mumbled.
“On your feet kid. We’re in trouble.” Alec responded pointing upward.
She followed his finger to see the hulking creature standing over both of them with it’s hammer firmly in it’s grasp.
“We shit the bed on this one!” She yelled trying to backpedal away.
Staring down at the both of them, the creature began to raise it’s hammer over its head.
“JUDGEMENT!” It said with a thundering, vibrating mess of a voice. The sheer volume knocked both Alec and Lana on their asses.
The creature readied it’s downward swing…
…and then shots rang out from above them. Unlike when Alec fired at the creature, these shots seemed to do the trick. The creature screamed. It’s hammer, which was above his head, feel from it’s grasp behind and to the ground.
Everyone looked up to see Nicolas and Everett standing 30 yards up on the spiral staircase, firing down on the creature. With patrol officer in tow, Nicolas made his way down the staircase, constantly reloading and firing on the creature. And although it was doing any real damage, his attack was at least disorienting the monster.
It stumbled backwards until it fell out of sight into the smoke.
Lana and Alec cleared the area as Nicolas reached the ground level.
“Get everyone to cover.” He orders Everett.
Nick loaded his second to last clip into his gun when he first heard the monster’s steps coming close, as well as the hammer dragging along the floor. He raised his gun and pointed toward the giant silhouetted figure slowly walking out of the smoke. As it came into view, Nicolas didn’t realize he has stopped breathing. The eight foot hulking was exactly as Everett described it.
Both The Creature and Nicolas stood silent like two cowboys at high noon. The monster tilted it’s head slightly has if it was studying the man. It looked confused.
“What’s happening?” Lana asked, still in a weakened state.
“No idea.” Alec responded. “But Nick looks like he’s doing his best Clint Eastwood.”
Nicolas kept eye contact with the creature, but he could see various witches in his peripheral slowly joining the scene. He didn’t know how helpful they’d be at the moment but it felt good to have some backup.
The creature sniffed the air toward Nick.
“UNCLEAN.” It said to him.
“I know what you are!” Nick said. “And it’s time for you to go ho–“
Before he could finish, the creature raised it’s hammer above it’s head.
“UNCLEAN THINGS!!” It screamed as the hammer came down.
“Cover!!!” Nick heard Alec’s voice just before the sonic boom of air hit him in the face. The hammer blow into the grown sent a ripple through the rock floor like waves at the beach. Dust and dirt once again filled the air and Nick his raw ground and toppled end-over-end for what seemed like forever.
NEED TO FINISH
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