up the table with one hand, put it in the far corner and began the walk back to the bar. “John, you can head out when you want, I’ll lock up.”
I turned toward him, “Alright.”
I started to take off my apron, “You want a quick drink ‘fore you head out?”
I smiled at the ground, his usual trick. Offer to close up, get me to sit with him, drink an excessive amount, have a few laughs, take advantage of my iota kindness which forbid me from letting a drunken dwarf work for any more than he had to, end with me closing up, “Sure Pat, I’ll grab something.” I grabbed a beer, two stools and went to sit with Patrick. We sat for a while in silence just drinking. It felt odd, the whole night had this sense of unease about it, but Patrick not pushing for his classic Irish banter?
Something was definitely brewing, whether he had knowledge of it or not. Patrick finished his pint and walked over to the sink, “You driving home lad?”
I finished the bottle, “Nah, I’m walking, you?”
He shook his head as he dried the pint and put it under the sink, “Cab tonight.”
I saw a familiar group of people pass the window, “You head on home Patrick, you lock-up tomorrow; I’ve got it.”
I started walking toward the bar, “You sure lad? I can do it.”
I had just lost sight of them, “Yeah, yeah, use the back door; I’ll lock the front first.”
He grabbed his coat, “Alright, if you insist, see you later lad.” As he left I ran to my locker, tearing it open to reveal a red case which held my 9mm and a single clip.
Fists started banging on the door, I dropped to the ground and pushed my back to the bar while fumbling with the clip that was refusing to go into the gun, “Shit, shit, shit.”
The knocking stopped, “We're coming in, we only want the demon!” The clip finally clicked into place, a smile played across my face at the moment that the doors flew open. I peeked over, there were eight of them, all donning thick black clothing with the classic red crucifix emblem embroidered on the chest just above the heart, the religious ones were always the most fun. As if to prove my point at the briefest glimpse of my head they had immediately started firing at the bar. Four had large automatic weapons, three had pistols and one had a shotgun.
I grabbed a bottle of vodka, had a drink, took a deep breath and jumped the bar, let off three quick shots into one of the machine gun guys, jumped off a table, kicked one of them in the face, crashed through the door and ran down the road, pouring vodka along as I went. When it ran out I turned around and waited for a moment.
They came out of the building to face me; the tall bald one, well, they were all reasonably tall... and bald, but the one in front started staring into my eyes, his face scarred horrifically from what I can only guess as resulting from many vampiric disagreements, “Time to die monster.”
I smiled, “Is it now?” I shot the ground where the vodka trail began, sparks lighting and dissipating. I looked up at the chuckling hunters as I fired again, “Oh come on.” I gave up, deciding to instead fire straight through the doors into the bar where a gas canister for the rudimentary heating causing it to immediately explode.
Sending flaming alcohol and wood through the front door as I dropped down, covering my head while screams ripped through the cold night. I waited for a while after the last of the screams had stopped, my lips pushed to the cold gravel while heat radiated from my place of occupation.
Eventually I stood slowly to see the still burning hunters a few feet from where I had left them, one was facing the sky, his chest raising and falling in a staggered form as his breath faltered while I made my way toward him. Though difficult to tell from a distance after the fire had done its work he was recognisable as the leader on closer inspection. I looked over his scarred features thinking of how many of my kind he had killed, how many lives he had destroyed through his blind faith that he was doing the right thing.
As I looked into his eyes gazing into the spacial nothing I wondered what his final thoughts would be of, friends? Family? However, once his eyes focused on me standing over him they left the vacant stare and changed to one of hatred, burning in his eyes. Much like his compatriots, his final thoughts would be of me apparently.
“You fucking demon! We will destroy your kind!”
I knelt down next to him, “You boys should really try harder, you’ve actually just done me a favour,” I looked up at the burning bar, “They were getting suspicious, I’ve been working here for quite some time. And for this favour, I owe you one.” I put the gun to his temple as he writhed in pain on the blackened ground and pulled the trigger.
I looked around at the other hunters, spread out across the street, their limbs twisted in unnatural configurations, they could've become installation artworks if they'd only stop twitching. I dusted off my shirt, put my gun down the back of my pants and abandoned my macabre piece and set for home.
I had to move again.
I had jiggled my keys in the door for a moment after making it back to my apartment block through the rushing city when I heard heavy footsteps approaching me from behind. I popped the door and spun around to see my seventy something year old neighbour Mr. Hagens. He had a habit of wandering into my apartment. “Hey there sonny, how was work?” The words escaped his dried lips like dust shooting from an old chair, I seriously wondered if he had the oxygen to pump out of his body to speak. He ran his hand over his almost bald head, his big blue-green eyes boring into my soul. I began to back into my apartment as I tried to recall what he had just asked, “Um, non-eventful.”
He rubbed his chin where I’m guessing a beard once sat. “That’s no fun, I remember when I used to work nights at the old theatre down in…”
I cut him short as I stumbled slightly into my apartment, “Yeah, I think I should get some sleep. But I’d love to hear this story tomorrow.” I said as gently as I could.
“Alrighty then. See you tomorrow sonny.” He turned and left. I shut my door while laying my head against it. I know I sound like a bit of a bastard, but if I heard about when he worked at ‘The Colonial’ and the Prime Minister came through the doors for the twentieth time I would kill myself... Or him.
I turned around and looked into my apartment to see my brown leather couch, my blue shag rug and my TV, I would miss this place. I dropped my keys on the floor and wandered down the short hallway to my bedroom, pushing open the door with my fore finger and thumb.
I looked into the black that was my resting place as I began stumbling into my room, roughly tugging my clothes off and sliding my draws open, producing a white t-shirt, a long pair of flannelette pants and a towel which decided to slip off of my shoulder, I grabbed at it without bending over in the hope that it would miraculously appear back in my hands, quickly giving up on the hopes of mastering telekinesis, for the night at least, “I’ll have a shower in the morning.” I said to one of my open palms. I felt so tired; I began to dress myself and flopped onto my bed. Maybe I would sleep tonight I happily thought to myself.
Or Not
I rolled over to face my bedside clock, its digital display flicking over to five a.m. I hadn’t slept again. I sat up and rubbed my throbbing head. The memories of what my turner had told me running through my mind.
“They will be back, they tried in the century past and failed, they will be back, eighteen years into the next millennium.” Those were the last words he said to me, he went to sleep with his bedside curtains drawn that day. He killed himself.
He used to tell me how the black plague was originally an attempt to rebuild our species, at first I thought he meant to cull the human race. But he went on to explain that it was all about genetics, a very new concept to me in that age. Vampires were a dying breed in the universe and all of human evolution was predetermined and planned.
Humans were cattle and Earth was a slaughter house, but something happened. Something that was unclear to me and to my turner, it spread through the universe, killing off the vampires, c
olonies at a time. What was a slaughter house was now to be a new home. The black plague was released as an attempt to ‘cure’ the human condition. It failed, the wrong cells were attacked and the result was death.
When I asked him how the first vampires came into being he had explained that those in the blood line of two parents infected with the plague who had died after child birth were the first of our kind to exist on Earth. Vampires like him could convert other humans into vampires like us, we all had the weakness to light, didn't heal as fast and were nowhere near as strong as our fore-species.
The original, pure vampires are said to continue their research into a cure and if I understood what he meant by ‘They will be back.’ they’re coming to Earth this year. I was on the verge of a complete breakdown, the idea that these massively powerful beings were on their way to Earth wasn't a comforting feeling. Even less so was the fact that I was unable to discuss this knowledge with anyone for fear of being committed and discovered as one of the original monsters.
As a result I hadn't slept in four days and my mind was slipping away, my performance with the hunters was sub-par to say the least and my lack of patience was matched only by my lack of an ability to keep food down.
I slid my bedside drawer open and patted through until I found it, a small
The Mulligan Planet Page 2
