by Susan Harris
One-
Every head in the room (including that of the scared-shitless Juan) turned towards the stairwell just in time to see Natalie fall. Her scream echoed throughout the cellar as she clawed for something to grab onto.
Guy, face hanging in shock from everything going on around him, said hoarsely, “I don’t remember it being that deep under the stairs.”
There was suddenly a low rumble beneath their feet. It must have originated in the cellar because Natalie screamed when it happened. The Dragons could not take their eyes off what was happening on the stairwell, and though Juan’s entire right side was now drenched in blood, he was also transfixed.
The front of the step directly above Natalie’s head split wide open, the wood of the board reduced to mere toothpicks.
Fatty in flannel asked, “What the hell is that under there?”
One Dragon cleared his throat. “Looks like books.” Then he laughed hysterically. “This is a library! Of course it’s books!”
Jordan pushed Juan aside and ran to the doorway of the stairwell. Just as he had expected, each and every book that poured from the broken step was a copy of the book he had found, the untitled book about Lucian’s murder. Nothing, by No One. Not exactly the type of thing you’d see on the New York Times’ Bestsellers list.
The rest of the step fell away, leaving the musty paperbacks to stampede down upon Natalie’s head. She shrieked, “Help meeee, Donneeeee!”
Donny’s feet were plastered to the ground for a few seconds, but then he came to his senses. “Natalie! Hang on, baby, I’m coming!” But as soon as his foot hit the top step, it broke away and he tumbled down.
Each step Donny made contact with cracked, crumbling away. And each step that dissipated gave way to more books.
Out of curiosity (but knowing he’d regret it later), Jordan flipped to the end of the book in his hand. His stomach did a double-flip. Not wanting to stick around, he turned and ran. The crowd was too thick near the door, but he knew that they’d be unable to open it anyway.
Half the Dragons were still frozen, watching the stairwell flood with books. The other half was trying to get out and discovering, as Jordan had known, that the door was locked. Natalie was clinging onto her step, losing her grip as the weight piled on top of her; the books were now up to her eyelids. Donny lay dead in the cellar, his neck broken. Jordan stood in the back, leaning against the many cardboard boxes, too afraid not to look. Guy was screaming at Juan, who could only stand there limp, blood still pooling at his ankles.
“How could you do that to your own brother, man?”
He went unanswered. Juan stood there watching Natalie’s hands go limp as her breath slipped away, and she had no choice but to sink into whatever abyss those damned books had come from.
Suddenly everything froze: the panic, the electric atmosphere, the very taste of sweat. It all stopped. There was only one thing, one thing that captured the attention of every last (living) member of Los Dragones. It was almost, but not quite, like a sonic boom… and then there was fire. Whatever power had frozen everything lost its grip. Hair stood up on the backs of necks, rapid breathing drew in the odor of sweat, and people screamed and ran to the door, clawing for a way out… except for Jordan, Guy, and Juan.
Jordan was too shaken by the ending of Nothing, by No One; he absolutely had to see how things would turn out. Guy stuck beside Juan, who simply could not move. Even if he wanted to, he was now incapable of leaving. In fact, turning his head to investigate the girl’s scream on the stairs was the last movement Juan San Luca would ever make. His frozen eyes stared down the stairwell and into the gaping hole that had been made by Natalie’s terminal descent. Into the fire that had appeared with that strange not-quite sonic boom.
Out of the fire rose a hunched figure, a hideous being that dripped blood all over the scattered books surrounding it. Guy watched in horror, unable to believe what he was seeing. “Oh, my God, it’s Lucian.”
Upon hearing its name, the figure that rose from the flames looked up. Most of what should have been the right side of its face was nothing more than a gaping crater: a missing eye, a chunk torn from the side of its neck, mandible and teeth visible through what had once been its right cheek. But from the nose to the left, it was Lucian San Luca.
The Lucian-thing pointed to the bloodstains at the bottom of the stairs and, in a horrific voice that reminded Jordan of a fork being raked over fine China, said, “Why? I told you we were done taking lives. I told you Los Dragones was finished.”
Guy, hot urine running down his leg, grabbed the Beretta from Juan’s motionless hand and opened fire on what had once been his best friend. He screamed, not thinking, “No! You’re dead!”
But the Lucian-thing kept slowly ascending. It had a mission to achieve, and was intent on succeeding. The stairwell was no longer a stairwell at all, but a giant mountain of books testifying to Lucian’s murder. As it approached the door, Guy began to weep as he threw the gun as hard as he could, somehow hoping that the creature was not as invulnerable to a punch as it was to bullets. But, to his dismay, the Lucian-thing simply reached up and caught the Beretta in midair.
“You used this on me, little brother,” it hissed, completely ignoring Guy and his efforts to dispose of it. “Why would you do that? Does killing people with drugs and guns mean more to you than family? Is that why you kept the gang? Is that why you stole my flesh?” It pointed at what had once been a right shoulder, then gestured back to Juan’s own limp arm. It then flashed a ghastly grin. “But I got it back. And now I’m gonna do what I told you to do the day you killed me.”
Now Guy joined the rest of the Dragons (except for Juan and Jordan) in ramming their bodies against the door, trying to flee from the stinking husk that had once been their founder.
With a gentle gleam in its one eye, it said, “That’s right, I’m sorry to say that Los Dragones is being disbanded.” The Lucian-thing smiled and looked at Juan. “Don’t worry, little brother. Los Dragones will all be regrouping in Hell.”
Jordan took his cue. He had seen enough. He scampered up the boxes of books, using them as a flight of stairs, and rammed his shoulder and elbow into the window, shattering it. He cut himself landing on broken glass and concrete, but ignored it. His focus was on getting as far away from the library as possible.
Nobody inside the library noticed Jordan’s exit. After all, his character played no major part in that book, Nothing, by No One. It didn’t matter.
Several moments later, Jordan stopped running and turned around, catching his breath. Later, during his long series of questions from the police, he would be completely unable to describe how the building went. It didn’t explode, and it didn’t implode. It just... fell away, as if the walls themselves were made out of paper.
A thought popped into his head as he watched the building fall. Guy saying, “Juan would kill me, and so would Lucian if he were here.”
Jordan shook his head with a nervous chuckle. “Sorry, buddy, but you were right. Lucian killed you both.”
There was one more detail that Jordan kept from the police. It was a detail he would never share with anyone for the rest of his life. From beneath the scraps where the roof had collapsed, right around where the bottom of the stairwell had been came a small billow of flame. He was reminded of something from his youth, during the summertime when he stayed with his grandmother. He would go outside to play without closing the door behind him and she’d call, “Don’t leave that door open; you’ll let the air conditioning out!” Only in this case, it looked like Lucian had left the door open and let a little bit of Hell out.
Blood on the Dance Floor
A Midnight Assassin
Susan Harris
Blood on the Dance Floor
A Midnight Assassin
Susan Harris
Drip, drip, drip......
The stale smell of blood and sweat suffocated the already dense air. She blinked open her eyes, her vision adjusting to the darkened
room. Her muscles ached and her throat burned as she tried to swallow. The young girl shivered, although she was unsure whether it was from the cold or the feeling that he was watching her as she lay strapped to the bed, naked and vulnerable.
Escape was beyond all hope; she had tried several times without success. He had mocked her then, laughing at her pathetic attempts to free herself. As the tears welled up in her eyes, she told herself she wouldn’t cry. I will not let him see me weak. Taking a deep breath, she waited, knowing it would not be long before the vampire returned.
Her thoughts began to drift and she wondered if life had been better when the world remained blissfully unaware of the supernatural.
Now every city was governed by vampires, and all the creatures roamed the earth freely, even throughout the southern Ireland county of Cork.
People seemed to love the new regime, and the vampires had plenty of willing “donors”. Any laws broken had severe penalties, and she prayed someone would find her soon, before she died. Just like all the others.
Stepping out of the shadows, the vampire carried yet another unconscious girl over his shoulders. So he has a type, she thought. All of the others had looked similar, but she always heard him mutter that the eyes were never the right ones. Strangely, relief flooded through her, she knew now that he had his next victim, she would die. She prayed it would be quick as over the past few days he had enjoyed biting and drinking from every inch of her now scarred body.
The monster tossed the girl onto a decayed couch as if she were garbage and slithered towards her.
“How are you today, my lovely Valerie?” he purred at her, running his hand over her bare thigh.
She kept her lips pressed together as bile crept up her throat. His blood red eyes observed her as she met his gaze defiantly.
He chuckled, deep and sadistic, “No need for dramatics now, my sweet. I can smell your fear oozing from your pores. Be careful, or you'll get me all excited now. I may decide to use my lovely chains again before I grant you death”.
Valerie shuddered and he clapped his hands together. He brought his lip to meet hers, forcing his tongue inside. She lay perfectly still as she felt his fangs pierce her already throbbing lip. His hands cupped her breast roughly as he sucked deeply. Breaking away, he stared at her, his face half crazed with thirst.
She could smell death in the air as he pushed her head to the side.
Wasting no time, he sank his fangs into her neck. The all too familiar dizzy sensation swam in her head and through her flickering eyes, she saw the vampire’s next victim, awake but frozen in fear. Her heart fluttered, the peace of dying ran in her veins, and the screams faded around her. Sighing her last breath, she gave into the darkness.
***
She gazed out the window, as torrents of rain drenched the city's streets. Cassie leaned her face against the chill of the window pane and closed her eyes, hoping that the melodic tones of Jared Leto's voice would soothe her racing heart. As the song Hurricane blared in her headphones, the lyrics “would you kill to save a life?” haunted her, knowing that was her job most nights. Although she had many kills under her belt as the keeper's hired gun, it never seemed to get easier. If it did, she would then have lost the last part of her humanity and become what she hunts. She breathed in deeply, pausing for a moment before exhaling.
Even with her eyes closed, she sensed him standing there, knowing his scent: a mixture of lavender and death. Cassie unwillingly removed her headphones before opening her eyes and met her bosses gaze. His green eyes bore into her soul, his handsome face grim. He was beautiful; Luka's midnight-colored hair only intensified his green eyes.
His well-defined muscles sat snug under a plain black t-shirt and dark denim jeans. A slight smirk emerged on the vampire’s face and Cassie, knowing her thoughts had betrayed her, straightened herself up; curious as to what the keeper of the city wanted of her tonight.
“Cassandra, always a pleasure,” he sang, his liquid voice sending shivers down her spine.
“I wish I could say the same, Luka,” she retorted, “what can I do for you?”
He paused for a second before coming to sit beside her on the bed.
She knew he would hear her heart racing, as it did every time he was near, and urged herself not to think of how close he was to her.
His voice was somber as he stared at the wall. “I need you to partake in a hunt for me. An old adversary has returned, but with a few new gifts up his sleeve. I cannot sense him, and it appears he may have developed a glamour. I need your unique powers to find him.”
The keeper of the city paused and she took it as her lead to answer him. “I am here to please, boss, but I need a few more details like,” her usual sarcastic tone appearing.
“Bodies,” he simply said, “lots of bodies, all taken from my club. All vanished without a trace, but blood on the dance floor. It’s the same as before... he tortures them in every possible way before draining them dry. I take it as a personal attack that he kidnaps them from my club.”
In all the years she had known Luka, she had never seen the vampire look so sad. She resisted the urge to hug him, wishing she could comfort him somehow. He stayed silent for what seemed like an age before Cassie choose to respond.
“What makes you think I can catch him if you can't Luka?” she asked quietly.
“Because you are my assassin, Cassandra,” he stated as she flinched at the nickname she had been given by the city's underworld.
“Your mixture of heritage and power allows you to do what others like myself cannot. That makes you deadly.”
She was pissed at him, “I may be your hired gun, Luka, but what makes you think I'll keep hunting filthy bloodsuckers all...”
She didn't get the chance to finish her sentence as Luka slammed her against the wall of her apartment. He was inches from her face and she could feel the tension go up a notch. Adrenaline pulsed through her veins as he pressed his body against hers, blocking her escape. The hunter in her forced Cassie to stare into his eyes, reluctant to show any weakness.
“Do not push me, Cassandra. I have not fed yet tonight, and it would not do you well to test my restraint,” he whispered in her ear as he ran his finger down the scar on her cheek. His mouth moved to her exposed throat and she sighed, feeling his fangs on her skin.
Cassie, even though she knew he would read her thoughts, couldn't help but wonder if she could resist him now if he wanted to taste her. As he ran his hand over her hip, she wished he would just take her, fear turning to desire. As she wondered if her own freakish blood would appeal to him, Luka inhaled deeply before taking a step back, a cocky grin plastered on his face.
Her face flushed, Cassie stared the vampire down trying to gain control of the situation. It’s not like they hadn’t danced this dance may times before. “Fine,” she said; her voice hoarse, “what do you want from me?”
Luka paused, walking towards her bedroom door before leaning against the door frame. “Come to Box of Delights tonight, and see if you can sense him. There is no doubt in my mind that he will be there, too, trying to rub my nose in it. I will let my staff know that the assassin will be making an appearance so as not to cause too much commotion. His scent is unique, most vampires prefer to appeal to human, but Vicktor wants to disgust. You will know it is him.”
“Sure, no bother, but I will be coming armed, Luka. There is no way in hell that I am walking into the underworld’s top club defenseless.”
Luka nodded, and Cassie guessed he knew she would not agree without her own “back-up”.
“I'll swing by ‘bout eleven, make a sweep of the place,” she paused, cheeks burning as she asked, “Will I see you there tonight?”
In an instant, he had crossed the room, and they were face to face again. This time when he whispered in her ear, her knees threatened to buckle. “Would you like that, my assassin…? Of course I will be there tonight; I love to watch you hunt. And I would not leave you unprotected in my club... What kind of
a host would that make me? When this is all over, Cassandra, you and me have unfinished business.”
He pressed his lips to hers, a kiss that burned with the intensity of a thousand fires. Her body trembled as he deepened the kiss, exploring her mouth. She screamed for more in her mind, but as fast as the kiss had begun, Luka was gone.
Cassie closed her eyes, trying to catch her breath. Her heart pounded in her chest as a velvet voice whispered like the wind in her head, soon, Cassandra, soon. Cassie smiled in anticipation unawares of the horrors that would shortly reveal themselves.
***
As she made her way towards the club, Cassie couldn’t help but think of how Cork city had changed since the end of days, many years ago. Millions died, cities eviscerated and now all of Hell’s creatures roamed the earth freely. Magic and monsters were now public knowledge; they even offered courses at the local college, the one that had not been set alight by a dragon. Cassie had always tried to hide who she was, but with her jet-black hair and onyx eyes, courtesy of her unknown demonic father, she was hard to miss. Her small, athletic frame also seemed to attract most of the scum of the earth, both of the human and supernatural kind.
