The Dark Messiah

by Michael Anderle

  Paul smiled but said nothing. The rumors about his family in Chicago were many. Some were created by his family to offset those that were closer to the truth than they cared to admit. They had, in fact, found the elixir of youth.

  You just had to be willing to drink the blood of demons to do it. The heavy hitters in the blood trade were based on the East coast. Paul figured he could make a nice profit and worked to hire away an experienced team and start his own business. Then, he invested a damned pretty penny for the machine to pull the blood out safely from the little demon shits.

  Now, his team and most likely, his machine were gone. A serious financial and business setback.

  “Are you going to make me carry this whole conversation?” she asked as the waiter came back, laying the oatmeal in front of her with milk and honey, and a glass of apple juice beside it. She nodded, and the waiter left.

  “No, just allowing you to get the words out so when it comes time to eating, you don’t have problems deciding whether to talk, or swallow.” he smiled.

  “Darling,” she drawled, “I always know when to swallow, and when to…talk.” She winked at him and took a bite of her oatmeal.

  Dammit, she was up two to one, now.

  “I, uh, if you say so,” he agreed and took a bite of the old toast. “Did you get on the ship back in Des Moines?” he asked, realizing she might have some more information for him.

  “No,” she put some honey on her oatmeal, “I was in Denver and let me tell you, it was a very unsettling experience.”

  “Oh?” He said and then reached out to accept the toast from the waiter, ’Thank you,” he nodded and put the toast on his table, using his own honey to flavor it.

  She looked at him in confusion, “Yes, you don’t know?”

  He shook his head and took a bite of his toast. Those that spoke first, lost.

  “Someone or someones laid waste to the scoundrel that was the local government there. Totally went through his people, shooting them all and then went to the top. Killed a bunch of men up top, then chased Kraven down the fire escape. And, killed him at the bottom.”

  “What time of the day was this?” Paul asked.

  She stopped her spoon halfway to her mouth, “Mid-afternoon?”

  Paul’s brow furrowed, that couldn’t be a vampire. So, who the hell could it be?

  She swallowed and used her spoon to point at him, “He went to some sort of religious group that stayed together a few miles from Kraven’s. He went and killed the leader and some people over there, too.” She twirled her empty spoon in the air for a moment, “People are still trying to figure it out.”

  “Sounds dangerous, glad I rarely go to Denver,” Paul commented.

  Nodding, she added some milk to what was left of her oatmeal, “Yes, they had a large warehouse fire north of Kraven’s, too. Went up in smoke,” she made a motion with her hand, “poof!”

  Paul bit down to keep from cursing. Mother wouldn’t have approved of cursing, at all. Paul couldn’t be sure, but he suspected there went his machine.

  “Anyway,” Kerri finished, “the rumor is...,” she leaned forward and looked around the dining room before bringing her eyes to rest on Jacob’s, “he’s called the Dark Messiah.”

  Paul’s eyebrow raised up a small smile on his face, “That’s not ominous or anything.”

  She shrugged and spooned the last of her oatmeal, the spoon scraping the bottom making a noise that irritated Paul’s teeth before popping it in her mouth. “Don’t know who he would be a Dark Messiah for,” she admitted. “It’s not like we both don’t know Kraven was a selfish puffed up bastard who was trying to make a little Kraven Kingdom out of Denver.”

  Paul pursed his lips, “He was known for trying to push up Denver’s level of importance, that is true.” He took another bite of his toast.

  The mirth in Kerri’s eyes, surprisingly, was guileless. “You know, if I didn’t know for a fact that you were born in Chicago, I’d swear your humor was from England, very dry.”

  He chuckled, “They have to have dry humor, to offset how much it rains over there.”

  “Yes, and it rains money around the Mullins, so dry humor for you, as well,” she nodded, thinking the saying apt.

  He shrugged, “Work hard, help others build. That’s what we do and helping others has been very profitable,” he smiled, “Not going to apologize for making money helping people have good lives, Kerri.”

  She stood up and batted her eyes at him, “Why do you think we women find you so attractive, Paul? It isn’t just your dreamy good looks, although those help.” She patted him on the shoulder, “Thank you for breakfast, Paul. I’ll see you in Chicago sometime.”

  He said his goodbye and watched her walk from the room. She was right, she was taking care of her figure, and he had wanted that figure fifteen years ago. But, unfortunately, she had a rather annoying personality defect.

  She was too ethical.

  He figured there was no way she would support finding, capturing and draining the demons of their blood for medicinal purposes. So, there was no chance she would become Mrs. Paul Mullins and her ethics precluded some fun romps in the hay.

  He sighed and turned back around. He might as well read the rest of his reports, what could possibly be worse news than what he had already received?

  Behind him, Kerri slipped out of the dining room and walked down to the berths, the rooms and finally to the suites and knocked on the last one. This Dirigible was set up with the general rooms in the center and the berths down opposite sides. Paul, she was sure, was on the other side with the elite rooms.

  Her berth was halfway back down the hallway. But, she hadn’t missed her room when she had walked past it going to the last. The door she knocked on opened, “Please come in, Kerri.” His smile damn near melted her heart. Which was weird.

  She had never been attracted to bald men before.

  Outside the old TQB Base - West of Old Denver, Colorado (United States Post-Apoc)

  The darkness in the mountains was offset by the beautiful view of the vibrant stars. The moon was pleasant this evening, half-full, radiating contentment one would say.

  Had you been there, you might have seen a few of the stars twinkle, and twice in one night, shooting stars lit up the sky.

  What you wouldn’t have noticed would have been the black pod that silently came down through the evening, its kind not having visited this location in years upon years.

  It circled the area three times, confirming what the communication with the local E.I. was telling them.

  No humans were in the area.

  Setting down outside of Storage Location D.D. 2, the deadly looking ship’s top lifted up revealing three figures in the Pod.

  “Eve, I swear if you don’t go on a diet, I’m not bringing you on these trips anymore,” a young looking Japanese woman helped the rather short human out of the Pod. The male, keeping his smile to himself, easily jumped out and turned to grab his sword before pushing his senses out across the land.

  Nothing he could feel.

  He turned to see Eve sliding off of the Pod’s side to the ground, landing gently before she started walking around, “If you would make me a seat,” said the young girl’s voice, “I wouldn’t have to sit on your lap.”

  “I don’t make you a seat,” Yuko replied, easily jumping out of the craft herself and rubbing her thighs, “because I’m not allowing anyone to possibly destroy one of our Pods.”

  Yuko looked up at the large building, the normal-sized door about twenty feet away. She walked towards it.

  She looked around at the worn down base, “This place creeps me out, Akio,” she told him. “Just thinking this is where Michael died is bad enough. Having to come check on some sort of possible malfunction just makes this all the sadder.”

  Akio connected through the etheric to provide the authorization to open the door for Yuko.

  The door’s lock clicked open for the first time in over a hundred and fifty years.


  “We have our commands, Yuko,” he just replied.

  “Some day,” she told him, grabbing the door handle, “I want to grow up and be a person who doesn’t bitch about serving our Queen in a hopeless effort to help her love. I mean, it’s romantic and all, and I know she swears he is alive, but I don’t want to count how many times,” she said as she opened the door and walked into the room, her muffled voice coming from the other side, “We have chased false leads.”

  Akio was watching the forest when he could feel her emotions emanating from inside the room.

  Moments later, she called him, “Akio?”

  He turned towards the door, “Yes, Yuko?”

  “Would you please come in here?” she asked, her voice subdued.

  Akio stepped towards the door and entered, sending the command to the Pod to go up a thousand feet. He walked into the huge hangar.

  “How do we see in here?” She asked him, her voice cracking.

  Akio looked around, “What is wrong?”

  “Please…just, please. I don’t want to be mistaken. How can we get more light in here?”

  Akio spoke up, “E.I. Denver Base, this is Queen’s Bitch Akio, authorize light inside this room.”

  The room was bathed in LED lighting, kept in working order by the E.I.’s robots.

  Akio heard Yuko’s intake of breath and her finger, pointing to the middle of the room.

  The coat was gone.

  Akio walked over to the coat display next to the table. He noticed the full-length Katana was still here, but a Wakizashi was missing. The bag, some clothes, Jean’s guns and the coat.

  All gone.

  “Akio,” Yuko whispered, tears dripping from her face, “He came back.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Dirigible Onslaught, Route from Denver to Des Moines to Chicago

  Paul played the conversation with Kerri over in his mind as he walked back to his suite. He nodded to the staff that stopped those who hadn’t paid for the nicer rooms. He caught the man’s attention, “Please, no interruptions unless necessary?” He turned the request into a question, and the man nodded his understanding.

  Heading towards the last suite, he used his key and unlocked the door, making sure to see if the few strands of hair he had used to gauge if anyone had been inside his room were still in the door jam before he opened the door.

  They were.

  Satisfied, he continued into his room, turning to close and lock the door before laying his papers, except for one folder, on the bed. He took off his jacket and placed it on the coat stand. Walking to the desk, he laid the folder down and unbuttoned his sleeves, rolling them up.

  Opening the folder, he pulled out the chair and sat down, deciding what to do about…

  Knock Knock.

  Paul turned around and grimaced, He had just finished telling the staff to keep the interruptions down to a minimum. He walked over to the door, cracking it open expecting to find someone from the ship’s staff.

  “Yes?” He asked, allowing his annoyance to color his tone so this person would know he was very unhappy.

  His eyes grew large. The man standing in the hallway raised an eyebrow, “I see you have heard about me already, Paul. Won’t you invite me in?”

  Paul shook his head and tried to shut the door, but the man had his foot in the doorway, “Ah,” the man, his voice like silk over steel continued, “I insist you invite me in, Paul.”

  Paul, his mind gibbering in fear, heard his mouth speaking, “Won’t you come in?”

  The man smiled, “Yes, we would very much like to come in, Paul Mullins.”

  Paul stepped back, and his surprise was obvious as two more people, women, came in after the man dressed in the black coat.

  The man with no hair.

  He didn’t know the first woman, but the second was smiling at him like she was the cat who had just eaten the canary.

  “Kerri?” he stammered out, his surprise evident when he could talk. If he could talk, he could yell and maybe he could …

  “No,” the man told him, his voice echoing in his head, “You will not in any way try to escape or yell for help, Paul Mullins.”

  Kerri took the door from his limp hand, “Here Paul, let me close this for you,” Kerri closed the door and grabbed him by the arm to take him to the bed, sitting him down with her right next to him.

  Like he was on trial.

  The other woman was busy looking around the room but kept her own council.

  “Paul,” she told him, one arm wrapped around his arm, the other gesturing to the man. “Let me introduce you to the Dark Messiah.”

  Outside, Paul was calm and collected, his eyes going from the man to Kerri and back to the man again. Inside he was screaming in fear.

  “I’m not one for small talk, Paul Mullins,” he said, “and you may call me Michael.” He glanced at Kerri, before back to Paul, “Typically, my version of smalltalk is killing you.”

  Paul’s blood drained from his face, but his mouth betrayed him, “What is a conversation for you?”

  Michael smiled, “Torture, of course.” Then, he made a little face, “But I’m trying to be better than that, so let’s discuss you, and your options.”

  Paul’s head turned glancing between the three standing there, “Options?” This conversation was not going in ways he was familiar with. Usually, he spoke, and people not only listened, but they also did everything he wanted and said ‘yes, sir’ and ‘no, sir’ every time.

  The man in front of him matched the description of the …

  Michael smiled, “Oh, I’m him.” Michael’s eyes grew red, fangs coming out of his mouth, “I’m the one to fear the most, Paul Mullins. Your life, and death,” he opened his arms, palms up, “are within my hands.”

  “Kerri?” Paul whispered, trying to gain any understanding she could provide.

  “Paul,” Kerri patted him on his arm, “You have done some inexcusable things. It seems you have been trying to drain people of their blood, which is why you are so young.” Her eyes flashed yellow, just for a second.

  Or had they?

  She continued explaining, “You see, I’ve been away from Chicago because there was an Alpha in Denver who was detaining me. Imagine my surprise when I’m released from my captivity by the ones responsible for killing Kraven? Only later to have my saviors ask for help to get on this ship without being noticed.”

  She leaned into him, breathing on his ear, “I owe them everything.” She leaned back, her hand still protectively holding onto his arm. “Now, you have two options, Paul.”

  The other female, her eyes dark brown stared at Paul with disgust, “I still vote to toss his useless ass off the airship so I can hear him scream in the night.”

  Paul shook his head vigorously at that idea.

  Michael glanced over at Jacqueline, “Justice will be satisfied, Jacqueline.” She looked down and nodded her understanding.

  And his chastisement.

  Paul swallowed, trying to take control of the conversation, “If you kill me, there will be hundreds of people after your head, for the bounty my family will put on you.”

  Michael grinned back at the man, pursing his lips. “Don’t tempt me, that might be fun.” This time, Kerri looked over at him, surprise on her face. Michael answered her question, “I don’t have to justify deaths to my love if they attack me first.”

  Kerri tightened her grip on Paul’s arm just a little more. Her initial hot infatuation with Michael was cooling, quickly.

  “I’m not threatening, I am merely going to explain,” Michael looked from Paul to Kerri, “to both of you.” She swallowed.

  Now she was beginning to understand, to remember. The bedtime stories from eighty years ago when her parents told her about the days before the fall. When the strictures were in place. When Michael, the ArchAngel he was called, was walking the Earth.

  Paul noticed her grip tightened, and it was starting to hurt. The woman was strong, he turned to look at
her and this time, he noticed a little fear in her own eyes to match his.

  “Kerri, you will change,” Michael commanded her.

  “Change what?” Paul asked, looking back and forth between the two of them as she nodded and stood up, starting to take off her shirt. “What the hell?”

  Paul had wanted to see her naked, but his present situation was such that he wasn’t going to enjoy this. His manners, however, did stiffen his spine enough to argue, “Now, is this truly necessary? I’m sure I can…”