by Leo Romero
He rubbed his head in frustration. He'd been stuck in his cell/apartment for almost a week now. The job for Vincent had been a good ice-breaker; he felt confident he could take more vamps down, that he could make a real difference. But, on the other hand, his close shave with death, coupled with his true lack of knowledge--something Green Eyes taught him--was making him a little wary of going gung-ho. He needed to learn more about them, needed to find out who they were, how many of them there were, what made them tick. He had to become a vamp expert if he was going to survive past next week.
In his mind, he replayed the moment he won his grapple with that vamp and shot him with the stuff she called 'holy water'. Holy water? He couldn't believe that stuff actually worked. He thought it was just something in the movies. But, it worked a charm. The vamp went down and duly died. And that was his first kill, which was thankfully out of the way, and now he was itching to find more. Soon, the money he got from Vincent's job would run out and he'd find himself on the street. He needed to do something.
He went over to the window and looked outside. The whole apartment block was silent, barely a light on. Could there be vamps living in there alongside him? You just didn't know. He wasn't getting any tingles, the kind he got whenever close to a vamp. Yeah, that tingle up the spine; the craving. The thirst for a hit of venom. Somehow his brain knew when they were close by. He wondered if that would ever leave, whether he was cursed for eternity with that tingling.
Beyond the apartment block, Chicago was ticking along; on its last legs, but still pushing on. The Windy City wasn't about to be blown down no matter how much the gangs, the dealers, the politicians, and yes, the vamps tried. Dom knew she'd remain standing against adversity and come through this darkness that was plaguing her--the recession, the crime, the vamps. The light would burn away the dark.
Man, that was deep.
He sighed and turned away. A thought then popped into his head. From nowhere, he remembered something, something that may aide him in his next move. He rushed over to his wallet and flipped it open. With a sense of eagerness, he flicked through the various cards he had. Then, he found the one he was looking for. The member card to Club Venom. Ironic name, dude.
He knew where it was; on the outer edges of The Loop, but couldn't remember ever going in there, nor when he received the card. But, his name was etched across it, so he was definitely a member. Maybe there were clues there as to how he ended up in that basement.
But, what if there were more vamps and fangheads waiting there?
He scratched his head, contemplating the dangers.
It's a risk I have to take, he then told himself, realizing he had no other choice.
And it was the truth. He had to get answers, no matter the risk, and Club Venom was the only thing he had right then that even resembled progress in that regard. Whatever might be there waiting for him, he just had to face it full on or he'd go around in circles forever.
CHAPTER THREE
Club Venom was lit up in blood red lights when he got there. He stopped across the street to check the place out. A small line of revelers lined the sidewalk outside, waiting to get in. Stationed on the door were a couple of beefy bouncers, radios in hand. From where he stood, Dom could hear the faint rumble of drums and basslines emanating from deep inside the club. He watched on as the pair of girls at the head of the line strode past the bouncers and entered the double glass doors.
Dom sucked in a lungful of night air and then began walking along the sidewalk parallel with the line of people. A tiny knot of nerves began tying up inside his stomach. He wanted this to be something, some kind of clue as to what happened. The thought of yet another dead end was just too damn depressing. He crossed the street and then strode up to the back of the line, déjà vu messing with his head. Yeah, he'd definitely been here before, he was sure of that, but he had no idea when. The walk up he recognized, at least some part of his mind did, but he couldn't quite place it.
I might get a better idea inside.
He hoped that would be the case. He joined the line; he found himself standing behind a chick with a fur coat and pink hair, big shades covering her eyes even though it was after dark. The music was louder here; he could feel it bouncing inside his chest. He took a look up at the building. It towered over him like a sentinel. He checked the time on his cell: 11:15 pm. The party would only just be starting...
As the line dwindled, and more people came and joined it behind him, the nerves intensified. He wanted this, needed it, he just had to know what happened.
He watched the pink-haired chick and her girlfriend disappear through the double doors before he stepped up to them. One of the bouncers came straight over and placed a rough hand on his chest, halting him. Dom looked up to meet his stare.
"Members only," the bouncer informed him, his face like granite.
With an air of cool about him, Dom pulled out his wallet, retrieved his card, and handed it to the bouncer. The bouncer snatched it, took a brief look at it, then handed it back. He gave Dom a short, sharp nod of the head and ushered him toward the double doors. Dom inhaled a relieved breath before stepping up to the doors and opening them. A hot wave of beats and misty smoke blasted him in the face. He stepped into the dim darkness beyond and the door shut behind him, encasing him inside the womb of Club Venom. Up ahead was a ticket booth where more bouncers awaited. One of them ushered him to step forward. Dom steeled himself and made his way up to the booth with steady steps, that sense of distant familiarity growing with each step he took. On reaching the next wave of bouncers, he was asked to stop. In the next instant, a handheld metal detector was running up and down parallel to his body; it was like he was visiting the penitentiary. He was then asked to turn, and the procedure was repeated. When done, the bouncer pointed at the ticket booth while chewing on his gum in a steady motion. Dom headed for the booth to be greeted by a heavily pierced Goth whose face he could place, but not name.
"Member card, please," she said to him above the splattering of beats in the background.
Dom handed her his card.
She swiped it. "That's thirty bucks," she informed him.
Thirty bucks? Christ, that's daylight robbery.
Dom reluctantly handed over the cash, feeling like he was being gouged. But, if it meant slotting the pieces of the jigsaw of his past together, then so be it. He watched her stuff the cash in a register before she turned back and gave him a small smile. "Have a good night, Dom," she said. "Nice to see you again."
A frown jumped on Dom's face. "Hey, how do you--"
She looked beyond him. "Next please!" she said before a hand fell on Dom's shoulder. He whirled. He was met with the chewing bouncer; he had his free hand held out toward the next set of doors that led to the main club floor. They wanted him out of the way and Dom took the hint. He staggered through the darkness toward the doors, confusion now mixing in with the déjà vu. She knew who I was. How did she?
He then realized that she must have read his name on his member card, and the 'welcome back' was just a friendly greeting she gave to all members.
He shrugged it off and reached out for the door handle. He pulled it, and the door flew open, releasing a barrage of drums and basses. A sea of bopping heads were crammed onto the dance floor like sardines on the deck of a fishing trawler.
Dom stepped through the entrance and moved straight to the left, wanting a spot to himself to soak in his surroundings. The music smacked against his head like a madman, the strobes dissecting his view into tiny flashes. The déjà vu intensified for a brief moment before something else hit him; a tingling up and down his spine. He froze.
There were vamps here.
A sudden nausea started to rise in his stomach. At any other time when confronted with that tingle, he could just turn and run, get the hell away from it, but here, he was trapped. He was forced to endure it, to live it, to ride with it as best he could. And it was intense, like a growling stomach, or a parchment dry throat. There were
vamps here, yeah, but there were more than one, or two, they were all around. How many for sure, he had no idea. He steadied himself and surveyed the scene. Around the perimeter of the dance floor were pockets of people either watching the dancers or engaging in conversation, enjoying drinks. Up high were the VIP boxes. Dom glanced up at them to see tinted windows, concealing whoever was loitering inside. Setting eyes on them caused the tingling to intensify. He nodded his head in understanding. Vamps hiding in darkness; one thing he definitely did understand about them. He didn't need anyone to tell him about that.
His eyes descended upon a couple on the edge of the dance floor; one had his head in the other's neck, the recipient's face reaching for the ceiling. From his angle, Dom couldn't tell if she was receiving a bite or merely an innocent kiss. Someone then bumped into him, startling him. A hot brunette in a skirt up to her ears flashed him a pearly grin; the type of girl that would've caught his eye way back when, but right now with the nerves and tingling and the strange sense of déjà vu, she might as well have been a space alien with three heads and slimy antennae.
Not tonight, honey.
He gave her a stony look before she scurried away.
Dom reassessed his situation; he needed to get up to those booths. He squinted and scanned the horizon for the bar. It was over to the right of the dance floor. And that's where he headed.
He skirted the perimeter of the dance floor, the strobe lights flashing, the heat from sweaty bodies clinging to the air like cobwebs. He went past ravers of all shades and ages, either enjoying the beats or watching others as they enjoyed them. He wondered how many knew about vamps, or even how many actually were vamps. It was all a confusing mystery. He made it to the bar, where he lucked out and found a free seat. He jumped into it, propped his elbows on the bar and tried to catch the eye of the barmaid, who was busy tapping her foot and nodding her head to the music. She must have sensed his stare; she stopped moving and locked eyes with him.
She sent him a smile, then came his way. "What can I getcha, honey?" she asked in a quiet voice that somehow made it over the noise of the music; a technique she'd no doubt mastered over the years.
"I'll take a Bud," Dom replied, fishing his wallet out from his pocket.
"Coming right up," she said, flashing him that smile once more, just as he got another hit of déjà vu. He knew her; had seen her before, but couldn't name her. And then the tingling started up again as she went to get his drink. It raced up his spine, hitting the nape of his neck and then spreading across his cheeks, causing him to shiver in his seat for a moment. He felt his brow furrow. Then, "Dom!" came the deep voice from the left. He swiveled around in his seat to be faced with another of those bouncer types standing at the edge of the bar. He was staring at Dom, hands on hips, his eyes wide as if surprised.
Dom stared back at him in confusion. Who the hell are you?
"Where you been?" the bouncer asked.
Dom's eyes darted to the right, then the left. "Uh..." He then faced the bouncer and shrugged. "Nowhere, man," he replied with a nonchalant shrug. "Been here the whole time."
The bouncer stepped behind the bar. He stood opposite Dom, before placing both hands down on the bar and leaning in towards him. Dom stared into his black eyes; they were like two pits leading to the depths of Hell.
"Sammy's been looking for you," the bouncer told him.
Dom had no clue who Sammy was. "Really?" he said, feigning surprise.
The bouncer gave him a stoic nod. "Straight up. He thought you'd gone underground forever."
Dom put on a tentative grin. "Well, I'm here now."
The bouncer nodded in a humorless fashion. "Yeah, you sure are."
The barmaid returned with Dom's drink. She placed the bottle down on the bar ahead of him.
She went to ask for money when the bouncer interrupted her. "This one's on the house," he said to her, placing a huge hand over her tiny palm. Her mouth became a small O before she turned and went to serve another customer.
Dom picked up his beer. "Thanks," he said before he took a sip. He could feel the bouncer's stare on him the whole time, all the while that tingling rushing up and down his spine like electricity. The beer was crisp, though, as always.
He inhaled deep. "So, any idea where I can find Sammy?" he asked the bouncer.
The bouncer rolled his eyes up and fixed them in place.
Dom followed their trajectory; he turned in his seat, facing away from the bar. His eyes fell upon one of the VIP booths. It was ominously dark. And quiet. A shiver then coursed up his spine, overriding the tingling.
He turned back to face the bouncer.
"Come on, I'll show you up,' the bouncer said.
Dom frowned. "Okay," he replied in an unsure voice. On the one hand, he wanted to get up there and see what was behind that tinted glass, but on the other, he had no idea what he was walking into. They seemed to know him, but he still couldn't remember how he fitted into all this.
The bouncer stood upright. "Let's go," he said before turning to his right and heading to the end of the bar.
"Alrighty," Dom replied, grabbing his Bud. He wheeled on his seat and got to his feet. He strode along his side of the bar, trailing the bouncer who marched along his side. As he went, his stomach began knotting up again. He took a big gulp of his beer to try and calm it down.
Stay cool, buddy, he told himself. Stay cool.
He had no idea what he was being led into. And that made him nervous.
They reached the end of the bar where they met; the bouncer moved ahead, leading Dom around the perimeter of the dance floor toward a new set of double doors where more bouncers were loitering. They gave each other a brief nod, before the bouncer guarding the door stepped aside, allowing Dom and his chaperone entrance. Dom's bouncer opened the double doors, glanced back at Dom and flicked his head his way. He then turned and headed beyond the doors. Dom took another gulp of his beer as he followed, the bouncers already stationed on the door eyeing him the whole way. Dom didn't like their stares on him; he put his head down and moved into the corridor beyond. The doors closed up behind him and the music was then muted, only audible inside his chest cavity. Ahead of him was a flight of stairs that zigzagged up. His bouncer was already up the first set of steps. He turned and put his hands out to the sides. "I ain't got all day," he declared.
Dom threw him an uneasy grin and then began up the steps. The bouncer turned and entered the next flight. The tingling in Dom's spine started to increase the further he ventured into this back area. Something else ran alongside it. It was like an anticipation of something; part excitement, part dread. It was a nauseous sensation, one he was having trouble concealing. He glanced down at his free hand to see it was shaking. He threw it down into his pocket. Out of sight, out of mind.
The bouncer reached the top of the steps. He turned to the right and disappeared into a new corridor. Dom upped his pace to keep up. Stay cool, he kept repeating to himself, even though he was far from cool. On reaching the summit, he spun his head to the right to see the bouncer filling up a thin, dimly lit corridor. Dom gulped more beer, then entered the corridor. In the next instant, he found himself surrounded by tinted glass paneling punctuated by similar tinted doors. These were the VIP booths, and his bouncer had stopped in front of one.
He turned to face Dom. "Come on," he said, ushering him toward him.
Dom steadied himself. He walked through that corridor, his feet marching on the soft carpet, all the while trying to inject confidence in his stride. He was hindered by the sensation of prying eyes all over him from behind the tinted glass surrounding him. As he drew closer to that booth, his tingling went into overdrive. Yeah, there were definitely vamps around. He took a deep, shuddering breath. And then he was within a foot of the bouncer.
The bouncer turned and knocked on the door.
"Yeah," came the reply from within.
"It's Seth. I got someone to see Sammy."
There was then a click and the door e
dged open. Seth pushed it open and stepped inside. Dom closed his eyes, inhaled deep, then followed.
The VIP box was a tight, comfort zone with all the expected luxury. Couches ran along the walls either side of the entrance. A pole was erect from floor to ceiling in the center. The whole room was bathed in red light. Through the tinted glass on the opposite wall, the dance floor was still jumping.
The door clicked shut behind Dom and he flinched. He disguised his nerves with a gulp of beer.
Sitting on the couch were three of them. Vamps. Dom instinctively knew. They had that menacing, broody aura about them. His venom sense was in hyperdrive and his breathing was becoming shallower with each pull. In amongst the vamps were girls; hot, scantily clad girls lost in the throes of a venom rush. Dom laid eyes on the vamps, who themselves were enjoying their own rush from human blood. They were dressed in style; sharp suits. Their faces were pale, their eyes obsidian.
"Hey, Sammy," said Seth. "Look what I found." He pointed at Dom with his open hands.
One of the vamps stirred. Dom thought he'd been asleep; his eyes were closed, his fingertips tapped the couch in time with the music outside. On hearing Seth, his eyes flicked open and stared at the new occupants of the room. Dom fixed his stare back on him. That déjà vu was working him once more. He knew that vamp, but not how, when or where.
On laying eyes on Dom, the vamp frowned in anger. He jumped out of his seat. Dom recoiled. The room fell silent.
"Well, well, well," Sammy said, placing his hands on his hips. "Look what the cat dragged in."
Dom caught a glimpse of his fangs as he spoke; they gleamed under the red lights.
"Where you been?" the vamp asked. "Haven't seen you around here for a while. Where'd ya go?"
Dom took a gulp of beer. "Been laying low," he replied, totally unsure of how to answer. His legs were shaking; he tried his best to conceal it with feigned nonchalance.
