by Matt Drabble
“Jesus Christ Eddie” exclaimed Jess, “You damn near gave me a heart attack”
“Sorry” Eddie muttered uncomfortably not understanding the attention.
“Why did you say Romania earlier?” Ghost said, suddenly remembering Rybeck’s entrance pronouncement.
“My grandmother” replied Rybeck; “She was an immigrant from there, when I was a young boy she used to thrill and terrify me in equal measure with her stories about them” he pointed towards the pool table. “You know, if that thing is real”
“Did she tell you anything useful?” Jess enquired.
“Well let me think” he pondered, “There were a lot of myths and legends about them, it’s said that they fear crucifixes, fire, sunlight. They can’t cross running water, they hate garlic and a stake through the heart does the job, as does decapitation” he paused to think. “It’s also said that they can sap your will with a look. They have impossible strength and speed, oh also that they can shape shift into bats, wolves and even mist”
“How much of that do you think is true?” Jess asked.
“Oh hell, I’ve got no idea, I’m not sure that I even believe that they’re real yet”
“Wait a minute, what was that about invitations?” Ghost interjected worriedly.
“Um, that they can’t enter your house or home without an invitation, why?”
“Something Johnson said earlier” Ghost said distractedly.
“What did he ask?” Jess said.
“He made some crack about whether or not he was invited” Ghost said looking straight at her.
The lights went out, and they were suddenly plunged helplessly into the dark, then somebody screamed.
Johnson waited for his moment, he could hear them all talking from outside the house. They were confident in their numbers and their four walls. He reveled in his newly honed skills; his night vision was perfect, his hearing flawless, and he moved with graceful ease through the night stalking his prey.
He slipped around the house and in through the open kitchen window, the fuse box hung over one of the cabinets high on the wall. He deftly flipped the electricity off via the master switch. The house plunged into darkness and down below he heard a scream and smiled cruelly. He could feel the waves of their fear emanating through the air, his nose twitched at the scent, and his mouth salivated at the feast to come. In his short time of rebirth, he had found that blood laced with adrenaline and endorphins tasted so much sweeter when drained. The younger men in their new ranks cared little for patience, but he was older and wiser.
Johnson eased his way through the house avoiding furniture and noise as he crept silently. He could hear the voices from below moving around nervously in the dark. He passed through the kitchen and out into the large open plan living area, he could see as clearly as day and maneuvered without trouble.
There was a door on the far side of the room, and he could hear the elevated heartbeats from the level below. They were down there, all of them lined up for the slaughter. He knew that Eddie whilst powerful, would be slow and ponderous; Rybeck was a thinker rather than a man of action. The doctor was scared, and the reporter was weak, it was only Ghost that may prove to be a problem. He had already managed to dispose of Tank in the casino, Drake had written that off as luck, but he wasn’t so sure. Ghost was a dangerous man, but he was still just a man. Johnson would enjoy hunting him one on one through the dark, stalking a worthy prey would be worth his time. But first he must take care of the others, they were all meat for the beast, and he would drink his fill.
“Sorry about the scream” Elliot muttered embarrassedly, “It took me by surprise”
Several sniggers accompanied his apology.
“GHOST, EDDIE” a voice called from up the stairs in the main house.
“That’s Johnson” proclaimed Eddie.
The sound of a hand slapping flesh echoed in the darkness as Ghost silenced his large friend, “Quiet Eddie” and Eddie was silent.
“Who’s that?” Whispered Jess picking up on the vibe.
“He was one of ours, but it doesn’t feel right” Ghost replied low in the dark, “That quip about being invited, it might just be coincidence”
“In my experience, there’s no such thing” Rybeck joined the conversation.
“Down here we’re caught, there’s no way out” panicked Elliot.
“Not exactly” replied Ghost irritably, “Eddie, lead them out”
Eddie grabbed Jess by the arm a little too tightly and dragged her forward into the large cinema area. She reached for Elliot, and Rybeck tagged on behind. Eddie led them down the center aisle between the seats and towards the small stage and screen. He walked with assurance despite the lack of vision his party trailing behind. Eddie paused before the large cinema screen and pushed hard against the wall underneath. The wall gave way and a small narrow passage opened. He pulled the three of them through after him, the passage drifted to the right and then upwards. They all ascended and then Eddie stopped before a door at the top that would lead back into the house, they all crouched and waited.
Ghost stood at the bottom of the stairs peering up into the blackness, Johnson was up there, but he had no idea if it was the same man that he had known for years, or a hungry monster.
“Ghost, you down there?” Johnson called again.
His voice sounded tainted with genuine concern, but Ghost’s mind came pre-programmed with doubt. As much as it might pain him, he agreed with the doctor, he was still unsure just as to how effective the garlic test had been. He was more comfortable knowing that the rest of his party were hot footing it in the opposite direction leaving him alone. He heard the faint creak from above as Eddie opened the door from the hidden passage that led back out into the main house.
The passage had seemed like an indulgence, a Batcave addition that harked to his private interest and collection. Jimmy had laughed riotously when he had proudly shown him, but the passage was more practical than fantasy. The lower level of his house was a playful addition to the house, but it was also a dead end with only one way in and out. Ghost was never about to knowingly block himself into any corner, especially when on home turf.
Johnson’s voice halted as Ghost heard the secret door creak; the locked door at the top of the stairs suddenly twisted and heaved with great force. The door cracked and splintered as it was pulled backwards and jammed into the frame. Johnson’s footsteps were suddenly swift and fleeting as he flew away from the basement door. Ghost charged up the stairs concerned over the speed of the older man. Johnson had been a formidable man in his youth, but he was older and slower now, or at least he had been. He was management now rather than front line muscle, and Ghost had marked him for promotion into the inner office.
He reached the top door and found it solidly stuck, the frame was warped and twisted, and the metallic lock distorted as though the door had been pulled with inhuman force. He battered his shoulder against the barrier uselessly as it refused to give. He shouldered it again and again with little effect; a sudden violent scream from within the house ran his blood cold.
Jess’ hand was aching where Eddie had dragged her through the darkness, his grip was insistent and desperate, and he refused to speak. Their group had slipped through the hidden passage in the cinema room and headed up towards the first floor of the main house, coming to rest behind a small door. The cop and the doctor were behind her in the dark, Rybeck seemed cool and calm, but Elliot was panting nervously. His panic was rising and she could almost smell his fear. Eddie suddenly eased open the door and threatened to slip out into the house. He pulled her painfully with him, she tried to whisper to him not to go, but he would not be denied. His attitude was strange; his usual pleasant manner was replaced with that of a sulky child. She felt that she had displeased him in some way but did not know how. “Eddie” she hissed, “We shouldn’t be out here, let’s wait for Ghost”
It was the wrong thing to say, for whatever reason he dragged her up and forward with gr
eat force. They were suddenly standing in the large open plan lounge area on the far side. The door had emerged them out through an antique grandfather clock façade; she would have been fascinated by the construction, if it wasn’t for the dire circumstances. “Eddie” she hissed harder desperately trying to shake his painful grip on her, “Let me go, you’re hurting me”
With the last words he let go, his eyes suddenly ashamed, she rubbed the raw flesh to regain feeling as Rybeck and Elliot emerged slowly behind her. The four of them stood unsure, the only light was the dim glow of the moonlight cascading through the large bay windows, and suddenly Elliot bolted.
“Tom” Rybeck cried out.
Jess flinched at the seemingly explosive noise in the dark house identifying their position within it.
“NO!” screamed the doctor.
Jess had no idea who he was talking to or what exactly he was disagreeing with. Whatever the reason, he bolted towards the hallway and the front door beyond. He disappeared from their narrow line of vision in a flash.
“Tom, wait” Rybeck called again, his voice laced with concern, no longer caring about remaining hidden.
Elliot’s pounding footsteps suddenly halted mid flow, and a strange strangled sound emanated from about half way across the room. Jess peered into the gloom as two figures emerged.
A broadly built silver haired man appeared. He was tall with a muscular frame that exuded power; he wore clothes as black as night and a manner to match. The man had one blue veined talon wrapped painfully around Elliot’s throat. The doctor was suspended above the ground, and only the tips of his toes scraped across the hardwood floor. The man’s face was a distorted mask, his eyes were deep set and cruel, they were a translucent blue that reminded her of the attack in the apartment. His mouth was twisted in a hateful snarl, stretched and elongated beyond human proportions. Viciously sharp fangs protruded and a black tongue flicked back and forth hypnotically like a serpent, tasting the air. He carried Elliot with ease, the doctor was not a particularly large man, and his struggles were weakened by the fear that drained his will. Eddie placed a large sweaty protective paw on her shoulder, and Rybeck gasped beside her at the nightmare vision before them.
“Who the hell is that?” she asked quietly
“Johnson” Eddie answered, “Hey Johnson” he offered a friendly greeting to the monster.
“Eddie” Johnson hissed with relish.
“Why don’t you let the doctor go Mr Johnson” Rybeck’s tone strode for an authoritative manner but fell some way short. “Just put him down and step away, whatever the is wrong with you, I’m sure that we can get help”
“Wrong with me” Johnson laughed, “Wrong with me, I’m a God little man, A GOD” he roared.
Jess screamed in horror as Johnson bit deeply into Elliot’s throat, ripping the flesh and shredding the skin. Blood sprayed across the room splattering them from some six feet away. Johnson tore great chunks from the doctor’s neck and drank in great greedy gulps, his pale face smeared grotesquely with dark red stains. A razor tipped fist suddenly exploded out through Elliot’s chest clutching the doctors beating heart. Johnson flung the body into them, and they scattered like bowling pins. Jess was propelled back over a small armchair, and Rybeck took the full brunt of the bloody missile, collapsing under the dead weight. Eddie stumbled back, clumsily tripping over his large feet and crashing down heavily against the passageway door. His head banged loudly into the grandfather clock façade and the birds tweeted around his head.
Ghost ran hard back through the cinema room and down the secret passage. He quickly negotiated the narrow bend and smashed into the beyond door which wouldn’t give. He shouldered the door again, but something large and heavy was blocking his path, he shoved uselessly, kicked and pounded but the door would not give.
Rybeck attempted to struggle out from underneath the blood soaked corpse that had once been his friend. His hands slipped in the sticky red mess as he struggled for purchase. He managed to hook his feet under Elliot’s torso and heave him away. In life Dr Thomas Elliot had been a slight man, but in death, he was a boulder.
The room was still too dark to make out anything beyond a few feet; the silhouettes of furniture lay still and lifeless. His scrambled mind attempted to process what he had seen, but he cut those thoughts off at the knees, trying to understand the impossible would get him nowhere.
He desperately scrabbled around on the floor, urgently searching for a weapon of any kind. A large Gothic fireplace was on the wall to his right, and he crawled towards it. A glint of silver caught his eye, it was a gleaming poker with a pointed tip. He snatched up the limited weapon and shuffled his back to the wall.
Jess shook the panic from her eyes and attempted to listen to the black room. She could hear Eddie’s shallow breathing, Rybeck’s floor shuffles, and nothing else.
A razor fingernail suddenly scraped her cheek, she screamed and rolled away in the darkness, a soft chuckle came from several feet away. A glass something smashed off to her left on the other side of the room and in an instant a talon squeezed her breast painfully. More soft chuckles from the distance, Johnson was toying with her. He was seemingly able to cover the distance between them in split seconds. She fought against the rising tide of terror that threatened to shut down her rational thoughts, she was not a fighter, and she was not a killer, but what she did have was intelligence.
She crawled towards Rybeck by the unlit fireplace, he was nervously trembling. The monster was in here with them and no doubt watching them crawling around in the dark like frightened mice. She had been admiring the large Gothic fireplace before the lights had gone out. She had dated an editor for a while a couple of years back. He had possessed a similar centre piece in his house and they had spent many passionate evenings rolling in front of the roaring flames. The fireplace was gas powered with a valve on the side to release the gas, and a button to produce the spark to ignite the flames. She eased her way over not daring to speak aloud to Rybeck. She grabbed his hand, and he struggled in fright, she placed it on her right breast in order to identify herself in silence. She pushed one hand onto to his mouth to signify that he should stay silent. She reached up to the side of the fireplace and turned the valve releasing the gas. A soft whoosh told her that the gas was flowing; she pushed Rybeck to the other side of the fireplace making sure that he was clear. Whilst holding the valve open, she placed her other hand on the ignition button and held it there. She hoped and prayed that Rybeck would understand her plan.
Rybeck smelt the gas drifting into the room and understood Jess’ idea; she was proving herself far more resourceful than him and felt a sting of professional pride. “Alright Johnson” he shouted, “Come on out and face me you fucking coward” it was not in his nature to use coarse language, but the situation demanded it.
A flash of movement came out of the darkness, and he felt a sudden slash across his chest. Wetness seeped through his shirt, and the pain arrived a second later. He clasped his hand to his chest fearing that his stomach contents were about to fall out, thankfully the wound appeared to be minor. “You goddamned coward” he screamed in anger, “You won’t even face me like a man”
“Oh but I’m not a man anymore” Johnson whispered from over his shoulder, “Tell you what policeman” he taunted, “I’ll give you one free shot to save the day before I rip all of your throats out”
Rybeck saw the vampire step around in front of him, arms outstretched to the sides, and head tiled down in a mockery of a crucified pose. Rybeck thrust the silver poker forward with enough force to pierce the stomach of Johnson; he then used the momentum to spin the monster around and propel him back towards the fireplace.
Jess saw the moment come and took it, as Johnson stumbled backwards bemused she hit the ignition button and hoped that Rybeck was out of the way. The gas exploded instantly, the space in front of the fireplace was filled with gas and the air burst into flames engulfing Johnson instantly. He roared with an ear-splitting scream tha
t made her shudder, the rage was uncontrolled and vicious. He twirled and ran around the room blindly, spilling flames onto the, no doubt expensive, furniture that he crashed into and over. His arms flapped and flailed as he danced uncontrollably. In a wild last ditch attempt, he flung himself into the large heavy plush curtains that covered the main bay windows. He ripped the drapes from the rails and rolled around on the floor smothering the flames until they were silent. The room was now lit by the roaring fire in the fireplace and several smaller, but non-serious blazes dotted around.
Eddie was dreaming, his mother was trying to wake him, she pushed and thumped his large frame, and he wanted to tell her to leave him alone. He tried to roll over in bed but found himself on the floor and the hard shoving from behind intensified. He suddenly realized that he was lying on the hardwood that did not belong in his bedroom. He sat up too quickly, and his head spun, he shook to clear his blurry vision and moved to the side to avoid the insistent thrusting.
The weight against the door was suddenly lifted, and Ghost burst forward into the room. Although the light was low, the flickering flames offered sufficient illumination. For a moment, he was back in Drake’s office as he and Jimmy tortured the man for the codes to unlock a kingdom. He had gone along with Jimmy’s plans no matter how much he might have disagreed with them. It had been the wrong way and the wrong time, but to the end he had been loyal. The bond between him and Jimmy ran deep but was never smooth.
The flickering light shone on a ruined body lying on the floor in a large pool of congealing fluid, the doc, he felt a sense of regret mainly because the doctor would have been a valuable asset. Eddie was slumped against the wall to the side attempting to groggily stand, his face blank and distant. Rybeck walked unsteadily forward, towards a mass of burnt material that looked like it had once been his drapes. He scanned the room and felt an annoying sense of relief to see Jess. She was sitting on the floor by the fireplace; her shirt was torn on one side revealing a flash of tender skin just above the swelling of her breast. A thin line of blood ran down her cheek, her body looked unsteady with a gentle tremble, but her face glowed with a radiance born of conflict. She looked beautiful to him in the dancing light, a warrior princess forged in the heat of battle, death faced and conquered.
