He hated the creatures. It wasn’t just the simple fact that they were dangerous, it was only too obvious that these creatures possessed a tremendous strength, but more the fact that he knew they felt absolutely no fear.
He had once been forced to watch what they could do, as sometimes, although technically outlawed by Overlord Karick, vampires still conducted half-ling fights. Fights in which he had seen with his own eyes what they were capable of. He remembered watching in horror as they’d literally torn each other apart; yet still they fought on. It was a sight that had made him sick to his stomach; a memory that had never left him.
The beasts hadn’t seemed capable of even registering pain, seemed in fact unable to feel anything. In reality this was one of the by-products of the vampire’s bite, which apparently contained a virus that destroyed certain parts of the victim’s nervous system and pain receptors. All that remained was instinct and one thought and one thought only – that of survival.
The half-lings were unable to think, feel or function for themselves, however the vampires could direct and control them, and this was an even more terrible thought. How? Well that was an interesting question and one the Mayor couldn’t answer. All he understood was that the bite of the vampire contained a virus that destroyed certain neurological links, but in doing so provided a mind with which the vampires could make some form of connection, on some telepathic level he presumed. It was this unearthly connection that enabled the vampires to control the beasts to do their own bidding, regardless of consequence, or danger to the half-ling.
Usually the connection was between the vampire Lord that had bitten and infected the half-ling, but in reality, in the absence of the originator, any vampire could make a connection and thereby direct the beasts to their own end. There was a limit as to how many beasts they could control at once, but he’d heard that they could command at least four half-lings at any given time, although apparently some vampires were so adept that they could direct double that. He shivered at the thought.
The Mayor was led into the old hotel through the courtyard entrance, leaving the baying creatures outside with a certain amount of relief. Steps ran down in front of him to a desk and a set of abandoned lifts, however Kadir led the Mayor up the steps to the right and toward what was once a superb restaurant. The sign ‘Gilt’ could still be made out above the doorway as Kadir guided the Mayor through and into a room filled with empty chairs and what had clearly once been a bar. Haunting but beautiful music filled the air and the Mayor swallowed hard. The feeling of relief he’d felt at avoiding the half-lings evaporated at suddenly as it had come as he stood inside the dark interior.
The enormous vampire guided him slowly with one hand, fingers cupped around his neck. The Mayor was surprised that the vampire made not a sound as they walked through the old bar, despite his prestigious size. He desperately didn’t want to be here at all, but was left with little option but to walk slowly toward the hypnotising music.
Once a place of joy, entertainment and courteous service, the hotel now was a place of madness, darkness and fear. As they approached the large, heavily engraved, sliding wooden doors the strong fingers tightened just a little, bringing the Mayor sharply to a halt, fingers digging into his fat neck. The door was slid open just a crack and the Mayor could hear the music even more clearly. He tried to swallow again but found it difficult with Kadir’s large hand round his neck, his massive fingers half covering his throat.
Kadir stepped in front of him, still with one hand firmly on his neck and carefully slid the door open a fraction more with the tip of one long nail. As he did the sound of music increased in volume slightly, filling the Mayor’s head with the haunting sound of Prokofiev’s ‘Montagues and Capulets’. The Mayor wasn’t one for classical music but he recognised the piece as it played from somewhere deep inside the room beyond.
‘We’ll have to wait a minute.’ Kadir whispered almost absently as he stared through the crack in the doorway letting go of the Mayor’s neck.
The Mayor blinked in the dim light and, with curiosity getting the better of him, peered around the large frame of Kadir. Through the open doorway he could see the ornate, almost oriental looking, restaurant. It was lit with an eerie mix of candles and oil lamps and he could smell the distinctive smell of kerosene. In a way it was the smell that shocked him most, oil was a rare commodity these days and it was rare to see so much oil being burned at once. The distant hum of a generator provided background accompaniment to the music that played on an old turntable against the far wall.
In the centre of the long oblong shaped room, the Mayor could see six masked figures, all female, all wearing hardly any clothes, as they danced, round and round, sending giant shadows flickering across the walls and ceiling. Around the pirouetting women, a number of vampires watched, with other figures lying by them. The sound of guttural laughter bounced from the tall walls all around, underscored by a constant background chattering that emanated from the shadows at the far end where once exquisite food was prepared. The shadows seemed darker than black, thought the Mayor morbidly, his mouth now completely dry.
Heavy, dust caked curtains were pulled tightly closed. There was an old armchair in the Mayor’s line of sight. On it lounged a tall, lanky vampire with pale, almost white skin, his long, light coloured hair draped across the back of the chair as his hand skipped in time to the music. Suddenly as if he sensed them, his albino eyes flicked towards the Mayor and fixed him intently through the gap. The Mayor started and pulled back, his heart in his mouth, and then trying to control his breathing, shifted his position slightly so that he was behind Kadir’s bulk and so those eyes were no longer visible. Nothing else in the room seemed to notice him, or Kadir.
Feeling like a voyeur, the Mayor absently licked his lips as he watched the young girl kneeling in front of the legs of the pale skinned vampire, he knew she was one of a number of concubines chosen to provide service, their standing in life simply to await the commands of their vampire Lord. Around her pretty and slender neck she wore a leather band, a simple cover for the two bite marks that he knew sat just below the surface. They would have come from the ritual of ownership, where the vampire Lord would puncture the concubine’s neck, but not take a taste of blood, lest they infect them and change them into the animals seen earlier. It was like a brand, every vampire’s bite-mark distinctly different. A mask covered her eyes. All around, beautiful antiques gathered dust.
Around the room, furniture was scattered randomly against the long walls. On them figures moved as vampires’ pleasured themselves with their concubine. Around the fringes at the far end, dark figures scurried and skittered about, their red eyes watching intently, desperate to come into the light, but knowing they must wait for their command.
The Mayor shifted his view again slightly, making sure that he stayed within the shadows of the old bar. At the back of the restaurant he noticed Rodan lying on a faded red chaise lounge. He was wearing his usual long black coat and his shoulder length hair was pulled tightly back into a ponytail, accentuating his sharp, angular features. Sitting with him in her usual skin-tight leather clothing, which managed only to exaggerate every perfect curve, was Keermit.
The Mayor watched as she absently played with a stray strand of silken hair, her blood red lips pursed in thought as her tongue flicked out and sucked at the tip of her hair. The Mayor drank in every curve until her eyes suddenly flicked round and she was staring straight at him, straight through him. His breadth caught again in his chest and he pulled himself sharply back into the shadows of the doorway once more, averting his eyes and swallowing hard, his mouth suddenly very, very dry again.
Rodan looked towards Keermit and whispered something in her ear, to which she nodded. At her feet sat a man and woman, both wore masks that couldn’t hide their fear, each had the trademark leather band around their neck. Keermit leant down toward the woman and spoke something lost in the music. Understanding, she stood and crossed the room to the other large w
ooden door that sat opposite and slowly slid it open. The music played on as Rodan watched a woman nervously enter the hall through the doorway, dragging a rippling sack behind her. She hesitated, as the background chattering grew noticeably louder, almost losing grip of the moving sack in the process. Rodan sat up, ignorant of the women all around him. He leaned across and pulled the tone arm from the record player.
The dancers froze as the music screeched into silence. Rodan stood. All heads around the long room bowed, whether human or vampire. The woman with the sack approached the centre of the room uncertainly; although she also had a leather band around her neck she wore no mask to hide her fear. When she reached the centre of the restaurant, Rodan raised his hand.
‘Kneel’ he whispered.
Without hesitation the woman complied.
Looking deep into her eyes, a smile on his face that would make the hairs rise on your neck, he spoke to her softly, ‘Well, you know what to do?’
Visibly shaking, the woman nodded; closing her eyes she opened the sack. Half a dozen chickens scrabbled out, dazed and confused. The sounds from the shadows growing louder as Rodan raised his arm into the air and the chattering grew to a high pitched crescendo. Then he barked a command, one word ‘KAR!’ and on this single command a half dozen figures bolted from the shadows scrabbling over one another onto the mock ballroom floor, their eyes glinting red in the candlelight.
The woman didn’t move. Her eyes remained screwed tightly shut. Her body stiffened as the creatures scrabbled toward her. They attacked the chickens in a pure feeding frenzy. In the middle, in what had become the eye of the storm, sat the girl, biting her lip so hard and drawing blood, so as not to scream out.
Around her the animals, human only in shape, tore into the live chickens. Feathers filled the air and blood splattered the face of the woman as the animals fought each other for the food.
The creatures crouched low, moving on all fours, circling each other. Around them a larger circle had formed as the Vampires watched, their mouths open, their breathing growing faster, their eyes wide. A single feather floated up through the air, it twisted and turned, finally brushing the girl’s face and despite herself, despite the risk, she made a sound. Then as if the dam had broken she began to sob, her eyes still tight shut, as she dare not look. A ‘half human’ turned at the sound, closed on her with a face streaked in blood.
She could feel its breath on her skin. She could smell the rancid stench of it as it sniffed at her face. Slowly it opened its mouth, the rancid smell increasing, making her want to gag as yellow teeth, dripping saliva, were displayed. It….
‘SEN!’ Rodan shouted the command his voice clear and sharp. The half-ling pulled back as if it has been physically struck. Then, with the others, it receded into the shadows, dragging the remnants of its meal behind.
All around the Vampires screamed and laughed, oblivious to the messenger that silently crossed the floor toward Rodan and whispered into his ear. Rodan held up his hand.
‘Silence, Kadir awaits. You…’ He waved at the woman covered in the chicken blood, her face streaked with tears. ‘Go and clean yourself up.’
She didn’t need to be told again as she rushed away to the sound of the heckling vampires. She rushed out of the door, past Kadir and the Mayor, not really seeing either of them. She ran on through the bar, then down the steps, falling down the last four, her mind not thinking clearly. Picking herself up she finally crashed out of the New York Palace, spilling out onto the steps above the courtyard, ignoring the half-lings that pulled toward her as she half ran, half fell down the steps as she passed them before spilling onto the hard stone of the courtyard. For a second she knelt there, freezing, not knowing which way to turn, yet sobbing with relief at being outside, despite the icy chill of the air that bit into her half naked body. Suddenly a figure appeared at the entrance to the courtyard, on Madison Avenue, beckoning to her. She wiped her eyes, before realizing who it was.
‘Father Matthew’ she shouted in a strangled voice, between short intakes of breath and through teeth that chattered loudly, ‘oh thank God it’s you Father Matthew!’ she stuttered as she stumbled forward, knocking over an old iron chair.
Father Matthews entered the courtyard meeting her half way and threw his coat around her shoulders.
‘Come with me my child’ he said without looking at the Vampires that stood guard outside the hotel.
Turning, he hurried her away in silence, out of the courtyard and across a deserted Madison Avenue, toward St. Patrick’s church that sat impotently across the road to the right. He had to half carry her up the stone steps, through the wooden door and into the sanctuary of the church.
Across the road, back inside the relative warmth of the New York Palace, Rodan watched as the large wooden doors slid open and Kadir entered with Mayor Cooper scurrying before him. Cooper was pushed roughly to the floor where he lay prone, or as prone as someone of his girth could get, with his arms outstretched in a pitiful picture of total servitude. Before him Rodan stood silently.
‘I am in need of some good news Mayor. I hope you are able to deliver it?’
‘Lord Rodan, my men are making progress, but it has become increasingly difficult. You see Overlord Karick also has teams out searching and -’
His words were cut short by Kadir’s foot as it pressed into the Mayor’s back.
Rodan continued, amused by the sight of the overweight Mayor pinned at his feet.
‘We want them found, and we want them found now. Do I make myself clear? If you fail things will get...increasingly difficult for you. Is that understood?’ Rodan moved closer to the Mayor. The Mayor could only see the tips of Rodan’s boots.
‘Now Mayor Cooper, I’ll ask you one more time. Are you going to be able to deliver that which I ask?’
‘Yessss,’ cried the Mayor, gathering all the breath he could.
‘Much better…’ Rodan replied with a smile, his voice bright and airy. ‘…very good; now Kadir, would you show our friend out, please?’
Kadir bowed, then he grabbed the Mayor by his foot and, despite his massive weight, dragged him effortlessly across the floor towards the door, where he grabbed the Mayor by his coat and with his growling voice reverberating around the room lifted him easily to his feet with one hand.
‘You heard the Master. Now go’.
The mayor staggered toward the door, trying to keep his balance on legs that had turned to jelly. Kadir smiled as he watched the man waddle as fast as he could through the bar and out toward the hotel entrance. Then Kadir turned and gave an almost imperceptible nod, Rodan acknowledged him and turned to his guests.
‘Parties over’ is all he said and the vampires quickly drifted away. He glanced over toward Keermit who blew him a kiss, her lips framed by her bright red lipstick.
‘Darling, if you wouldn’t mind?’ he whispered.
Keermit smiled and stood as the other Vampires dissolve silently into the shadows before disappearing completely. Absently, Rodan watched them leave before he turned to Keermit and spoke again.
‘Keermit, time is not with us.’
‘My Lord?’ She raised a querying eyebrow.
‘I think… yes, I think it is time we contacted your friend.’
Keermit looked a little taken aback. ‘Zidtool?’ she questioned, with just the hint of a frown on her beautiful face.
An evil smile flashed across Rodan’s face as he nodded slowly.
‘Yes, my darling, Zidtool.’
Chapter 8
A very Different Monster
Deep beneath the surface in the United Nations Building, now the vampire’s formal seat of power, Overlord Karick crashed through a doorway, slamming the door into the wall; plaster and pieces of ceiling fell like confetti onto the carpet from the impact. Behind him Voltan followed in silence. Karick turned abruptly, anger written large across his face; he paused as he watched his friend and confidant trying to manoeuvre the damaged door back onto its hinges in order that he
could shut it.
Karick’s voice has a cultured edge, even when he was angry.
‘Voltan, I... I feel I’m being out manoeuvred by that... that low life, political cunning bastard Rodan, and he’s just laughing at me.’
Voltan, having managed to secure the door to a degree, nodded his agreement.
‘My Lord.’
‘Voltan, can you get Drameer for me? I think I am in need of his counsel.’
‘At once, my Lord’ replied Voltan, although Karick noticed there was a tiny hint of disappointment in his voice.
Voltan offered a shallow bow and opened the door, which promptly fell to the ground.
Karick, not missing the humour, hid a smile. ‘And whilst you’re at it, get the door fixed, will you?’
Within the vampire city, on the corner of East Ninety Second Street an old curtain twitched, sending motes of dust into the air. The curtains that hung at the windows were plush but faded. Dull and worn furniture sat around what once would have been a beautiful apartment. Behind the curtains, looking eagerly out on the desolate streets below was a woman’s face, bright and pretty. She scanned the empty streets and, not seeing whatever it was she was looking for, sighed, pulling the curtains together again before retreating to her dressing table. Sitting down she stared at her lonely reflection in the tarnished mirror, considered briefly that perhaps her own image was now a little tarnished by the life she had led, her eyes lingering just for a second on the leather band that was around her neck. She picked up the silver plated brush from the dresser and slowly began to brush her thick hair. Lost in thought, she looked over to the window again, her mind wandering to thoughts past.
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