It might have been his imagination as well, but it was only a matter of moments it seemed he was rising off the pavement to his full height, his tusks gleaming in moonlight that seemed to slice down through the darkness periodically in the alley.
Blain heard a sharp intake of breath from further up the alley and looked that way. Even though it was pitch black in the alley, he could see almost perfectly. The colors were dull, like looking through a night viewer, but he could see just the same. Further back there was a bum, using his feet to push himself further into the darkness of the alley. When Blain took a step forward, the bum let out a cry, scrambled to his feet, and made down the alley. Blain let him go for a bit then pushed off with his hoofed feet and charged down the alley. The bum was frantic to get away. He kept glancing over his shoulder, seeing glimpses of fur and tusks when the moonlight illuminated Blain, getting ever closer.
Ahead, the alley opened into the street. The bum probably thought he would be safe once he reached the end of the alley. Blain lowered his head and picked up speed. Just as the bum was steps away from the opening, Blain’s tusks punctured the bum’s back, piercing flesh and organs. The man cried out as Blain lifted and thrusted forward and then came to an abrupt halt, tossing the man into the air.
Blain watched as the bum, arms and legs flailing, flew about ten feet into the air and out into the street. Just as the man’s legs came crashing down on the pavement, the man’s body was illuminated by headlights, A bus, with its horn and brakes sounding insistently, slammed into the man. The body almost snapped in half sideways from the impact before being pushed under the front fender. The body hit the pavement again, was kicked up and slammed into the undercarriage before bouncing back down its final time.
Blain heard several screams from inside the bus and watched as it came to full stop. Most of the riders were looking either at the back of the bus or trying to move to the front of the bus. One woman looked directly at him and screamed with all her might, pointing. He realized, at that moment, his figure was bathed in moonlight as he stood in the mouth of the alley. Blood covered his tusks and it dripped down into his mouth. Its sweet iron taste momentarily left him in ecstasy.
He quickly regained control of himself as he saw other people on the bus look at the woman who had seen him. It would be a matter of seconds before they looked where she was pointing. He couldn’t have that. He took a few steps back and disappeared into the dark alley. He didn’t worry too much about the lady who saw him. The police would assume they had been through a traumatic experience and was seeing things. Since no one else could confirm what she saw, they would discount it.
Blain headed to the other end of the alley. He faced a serious problem though. He needed to get out of this alley, even though the police would discount her claims of a monster in the alley, everyone would agree the man came flying out of this alley and the police would surely investigate. If they came down here, he would be forced to kill them.
He was aware of his new-found strength and he apparently healed at an accelerated rate, but he wasn’t too sure how he would hold up to a barrage of bullets. He surveyed the alley’s opening as an occasional walker and cars passed at irregular intervals. There was no way he could leave unnoticed. What he needed was to be in his normal form. That was what he needed. He remembered the night he first changed. It had been hours he had been in this form and he didn’t have that kind of time.
He moved back into the alley’s shadows. The sounds of London were usually background noise to Blain, but he realized his hearing was sharper as well. So, it’s not just my eyesight that is better. It was because of this he could hear sirens in the distance.
“Shit,” Blain said and grunted in a very boar like manner. I need to change! When he thought that, he felt a shift in his bones. It was slight, but it was there. If Blain had eyebrows they would have lifted at that moment. Do I have control over this? Blain moved to the center of the alley and started to concentrate, telling himself to change repeatedly. It wasn’t working. He once again grunted in anger and slammed his fist into the wall cracking the mortar and bricks where his fist impacted.
The sirens were getting closer. He was running out of time. Trying a different approach, he closed his eyes and pictured himself as he normally looked in his human form. Something locked into place within his brain. Once more the pain erupted from his body and he almost lost the image.
The pain receded immediately, allowing him to maintain the image. He felt his body practically collapse into itself as bones and muscle shortened and thinned. His skin itched as the hair covering his body receded into his pores. His spine adjusted itself and he was no longer hunched over. His face buckled and his tusks burrowed back into his jaw bones as the skin closed around them. In a matter of moments, Blain, was standing there.
Though his clothes were somewhat worse for wear. It was a good thing he had switched to baggy clothes, since for the most part they had made it, only slightly torn at some of the seams. Behind him, he saw the flashing red and blue lights from the coppers and rescue as they approached the scene. He made his way out of the alley, keeping to the shadows as best as he could.
He managed to make it back to his loft without incident, feeling elated. He had forced himself to change back to his human form, and it worked. He had to be sure. Blain moved around his loft with excited zeal and quickly disrobed. When at last all his clothes sat within a pile in his living room, he moved to its center. He took a moment to move the coffee table out of his way a bit more before returning to the center.
Once again, he closed his eyes. He concentrated on an image of himself in his boar-man form. As soon as he got the image formed in his mind, he felt the familiar locking in his brain and his body started to shift. He was either too excited to feel the pain, or it had lessened so much he hardly felt it. Either way, in moments, he was standing in the center of his living room covered in hair and his head brushing the ceiling.
He almost jumped for joy but realized he would put a hole in the ceiling if he did. He restrained himself. Once more he formed an image of his human shape inside his head and shifted back. Yes. He was sure of it this time. He felt very little pain in the shift. Apparently, once you did it a few times, your body got used to it. He still didn’t know why or how this was happening, but it was.
Something about it tickled the back of his mind, but he couldn’t figure it out. He wished he had someone he could trust to talk to, but he was a loner, and he wasn’t about to change that now. He felt like going and testing his new form and his ability to change at will. Blain smiled. Yes, that would be fun indeed. After all, he only had a small taste of blood tonight, not nearly enough to sate him.
Blain moved to his room and gathered up some more clothes. He got as loose and bulky of clothes as he could and headed out into the night. He grabbed a cab and went down to a seedier area in London. He had been hired for a hit here but had to tell the client it would have to wait; he was taking a break. The man paid him and asked it to be done relatively soon. Blain figured now was a good of time as ever.
Turns out, this guy was a small-time heroin dealer and an occasional arms dealer who stole one of the customers of his client who wasn’t too happy about that. Normally, Blain would take some time to learn the layout of the place and when the guards were on duty or when they changed shift. He decided to forgo all of that and try a more direct route.
The cab stopped in front of Oolala! — a club this guy ran. Jimmy was his name and he was usually here, which in Blain’s estimation was never a good idea to always be in the same place so your enemies can find you. On the plus side though, it made Blain’s job that much easier. Blain paid the cover and moved into the bar.
It was your usual dancer club. Several small round stages were set up throughout the room as dancers moved and danced around a single pole that came up from the center of the stage to the ceiling. Most were in various stages of undress. There was a black one with large tits and a big ass that caught his a
ttention and he moved to a table near her so he could get a good look at her.
She was only mildly pretty and since this was not the classiest place in London, she was, at best, a poor dancer. He admired her body as she moved ungracefully up and down the pole. Cellulite rippled on her ass as she shook it in his direction after noticing his attention on her. She turned and smiled at him, leaning back against the pole, she thrust her pelvis at him, her panties tight, working their way into her crotch.
Blain looked her over. He noticed the light scar below her belly button where she had obviously had a Cesarean section. Blain looked away towards some of the other girls. He hated mothers. Mothers were weak, like his. He only liked women who didn’t have children. Mothers made him sick. He motioned to the skinny little barmaid wearing small lingerie and ordered a drink.
He glanced about the room. There were mostly guys at the club, older men, alone. A group of drunken twenty something’s were near the main stage yelling and pounding the table as a decent looking blonde with no tits danced on stage. She had taken off her panties and was giving the boys a good view of her shaved pussy.
When the waitress came back, he paid her and inquired if he could get something a little stronger. He needed a rush, he told her. She gave him a good look over, as if trying to decide if he was a cop. He tried to look a little bit frantic, so she would take him for an addict who wanted to get high. Apparently, his ploy worked.
“You got money?”
“I just paid you, didn’t I?”
She didn’t like the sarcasm. “You know what I mean. You got enough money for what you lookin’ for?”
He pulled out a wad of cash and waved it at her. She nodded.
“Alright. Follow me.” She walked toward a door that read ‘employees only beyond this point’ and he followed. There were no guards at this door, but there was one just inside the door. A big guy, too. He stopped Blain and patted him down. Once he was satisfied Blain wasn’t packing, he nodded to the waitress.
She continued further in and the hallway came to a T intersection. The light flickered overhead, and Blain was disorientated for a moment. He followed her to the left and they came to another door where two burly guys stood in front. Both held TEC-9 submachine guns. He liked those guns. Hold it in one hand with a rectangular clip jutting down from it. Just squeeze the trigger and fire off a couple hundred rounds. Well, probably not that many, but a lot. He tried not to stare too much at the guns, lest he arouse suspicion. The waitress didn’t pause, walked right up and opened the door.
Inside was every guy’s wonderland. Naked women were everywhere, and they weren’t like the ones outside in the club. No, these were beautiful. Jimmy apparently wasn’t into sharing. Leather chairs and sofas were positioned sporadically around the room surrounding square coffee tables and facing flat panel big screen TVs. Some were showing porn, others showing various sporting events.
Techno music thrummed in the background, just quiet enough for each grouping to hear their respective TV. A huge fish tank lined the left wall and had to be at least thirty feet long. A couple of small sharks, he had no idea what type, circled purposely within the tank. There were probably about five other guards in the room, but only a couple of them were carrying an obvious weapon. The others probably had a handgun under their jackets. In the middle of the room was a large semi-circular sofa.
At its center was a well-dressed man. The suit was probably Armani, not that Blain knew the difference or cared. The man smoked a cigar between two almost non-existent lips; his face was soft and looked primped, as if he had just been to the salon.
He sat with his legs crossed like a girl, something Blain disdained when guys did that. A man must not have any balls to sit like that. He also wore sunglasses, another thing Blain disliked. The room was dark enough, let alone trying to see anything through sunglasses. He must be under the impression it made him look cool, or tough. In Blain’s estimation, it made him look like a douche.
The waitress walked over to the man and leaned in, whispering something in his ear. The man seemingly looked his way, and after a moment, motioned with his manicured hand for Blain to come forward. This had to be Jimmy.
Now that Blain was here, he wasn’t sure how he wanted to proceed. He knew if he tried to shift right here, he would have a large amount of lead pumped into him quick, and frankly he wasn’t sure he could survive that. Well, he would just have to play it by ear at this point. No backing out now. With that, he walked over to the chair opposite where Jimmy was sitting.
“Gabrielle here tells me you are looking for something a little stronger than what we serve out there, eh?” His accent was thick. Blain figured he must be German.
“Yeah. I heard this was a place to score if you needed to.”
“Oh?” Jimmy raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. “And where would you be hearing these things?”
“On the street, you know. The word gets around. Look, do you got what I need or what?”
Jimmy leaned back on the sofa.
“Tsk, tsk, calm down my friend. No need to be so hostile. I have what you need.”
With a flick of the wrist, he held a small wax bag of heroin in his hand. He smiled at Blain as if impressed by his own trick. Blain smiled weakly back. This prick was annoying him, and it was time to take care of this asshole. Blain looked around the room questioningly.
“What?” Jimmy asked, sitting forward a little.
“You got a bathroom in here? I gotta piss out that beer.”
Jimmy sat back, relaxing a bit.
“Sure, over there to the left of the bar. Make it quick so we can finish this up. I need to be somewhere shortly.”
Blain nodded to him an affirmation he would make it quick and crossed the room to the bathroom. The room wasn’t what he expected. He was expecting seedy bar, seedy bathroom. This room was ostentatious to say the least. White marble floors and granite counter tops, the walls looked like cobblestone. The two sinks had automated faucets and were oil rubbed bronze finish.
The two urinals were divided by a shoulder-height glass-block wall. One of the urinals was occupied by a burly man; obviously a guard, who glanced at him once then went back to pissing. Blain moved next to him in the adjacent urinal. It was true, Blain needed to piss, so he proceeded to empty his bladder. The other man finished and zipped up. He glanced again at Blain, and Blain looked back at the man and nodded. The man nodded back then left the bathroom.
Blain finished, went to the sink, and splashed some water on his face. He was a little nervous. He knew he could be shot and survive since one of the people at the motel had gotten a shot off into him before he tore him to pieces, but he wasn’t sure how many shots he could take.
Well, he was about to find out.
He looked up at the mirror and formed the picture of himself as the boar-man and the picture locked in his brain. He watched his image in the mirror shift from man to boar. He sensed two presences close by but had no idea who they were or why he could sense them. He didn’t have time to worry about it. He had work to do.
Jimmy had been lucky. Some people were smart, some people were ruthless, Jimmy was lucky. He wasn’t ashamed to admit it. He acquired his money and business out of luck, being in the right place at the right time. He was a prime example that it isn’t what you know… but who you know. He had been the second in charge to a small heroin dealer named Javier who was a friend of his brother, which is how he got the job. When Javier died from heart failure, from too much drugs, Jimmy took over the operation.
The strip club was owned by his Uncle, who felt running a strip club, and pimping was more respectable than dealing drugs. He had tried to get Jimmy into the business, and even changed his will to leave the club to Jimmy in case of his death. So, when an angry wife who was tired of her husband going to his uncle’s club showed up and stabbed his uncle and her husband to death, Jimmy inherited it.
Jimmy used the club as a front for his heroin organization. He now had a base of o
perations and plenty of money flowing in. Jimmy was making a play for a bigger piece of the pie. He purchased more supply and was broadening his area of influence in London.
He knew it was a risk. Some people would be unhappy with him taking their business, but he hired enough strong-arms, it would be hard for someone to get to him now. He was sure the guy in the bathroom was from one of his rivals, but the man had no weapons, so he didn’t think he was a threat. He was playing with him a little, he would kill him before he left, but he wanted to see what the guy was here for.
Jimmy glanced at the bathroom. The guy had been in there for quite a bit. Jimmy was getting a little nervous. Just because the guy didn’t appear to be a threat, didn’t mean he wasn’t. He caught the eyes of one of his guards and nodded in the direction of the bathroom. The guard nodded back and moved towards the door. He was reaching for the knob when the door exploded outwards with such force, a piece of it smacked Jimmy on his forehead knocking him over on the coach.
Jimmy shook his head to clear it and touched his forehead lightly, his fingers coming away sticky with blood. He grabbed his gun resting on the table in front of him and lifted himself up, swinging the gun around towards the bathroom as he righted himself. What he saw horrified him.
Lowering itself through the doorway to the bathroom was a monstrous thing that looked like a walking boar. It had tusks jutting several inches from its lower jaw. Its pig-like snout extended under beady eyes that stared directly at Jimmy. The thing’s back arched above its head and the hair spiked up from its ridge. Muscular arms hung from bunched up shoulder muscles and ended in viscous looking claws.
He knew immediately this thing was somehow the man who came in, for it was wearing the same clothes that were once baggy, but now hung tight around a bulging chest, thighs and calves. Jimmy had his gun pointed at the thing, but was so overwhelmed with fear, he froze. The thing snorted once and moved towards him.
Luckily, one of his guards reacted quickly, bringing his semi-automatic around at the beast and fired. The creature roared as bullets riddled its flesh. Jimmy watched as skin parted and blood spurted from bullet holes that appeared as if by magic in the thing’s chest and abdomen. The creature flailed and stumbled backwards. Finally, it fell into the doorway of the bathroom and lay their unmoving.
The Awakening Box Set Page 10
