Where was everyone?
That was the question that kept nagging her. Granted it was half past one in the morning, but still the whole building seemed dead.
Dead.
That was an ominous thought.
Just when she thought that her blood couldn't run any colder, it was the eery sound of music, that instantly had her yanked out of her morbid thoughts.
While the sound of music, itself, had been surprising, it was when they were but a few feet away from her missing stiff's taped off door, that she was able to make out what the music was; which left her even more surprise than that first sound of music.
Sandman, I'm so alone
Don't have nobody to call my own
Please turn on your magic beam
Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream...
It was that song and where it was coming from, that had Genevieve so chilled, that she instantly regretted leaving her jacket at home.
What the hell!
Her conscience kept screaming the same thing, over and over again.
What the hell!!!
Nobody was suppose to be in there.
Maybe your corpse is in there...Dancing around in all his decomposing fluids.
She had been reaching for her missing stiff's door handle. Yet, it had been that sudden thought that had her instantly halting; just that image, alone, of her stiff doing this, had her practically gagging.
He could be listening to his favorite song—'The Sandman.'
The sandman is going to get you, baby, you better run. Run little girl, go hide under your bed and wait for a strong man to come and save you.
Where were those thoughts coming from?
Genevieve could hear this eerie voice in her head, but she couldn't figure out who it was. She knew that it couldn't be her conscience – it was too busy having a conniption fit.
Sandman, I'm so alone
Don't have nobody to call my own
Please turn on your magic beam
Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream
It was again, those lyrics that had her once more reaching for that door handle – someone was in there.
And no it wasn't a dead man, listening to his favorite song.
It was a flesh and blood person.
Enough with her conscience's bull shit, she was going inside.
She had noticed out of the corner of her eye, that her partner had already removed his weapon.
Swallowing down the nervous lump in her throat, she, putting one hand on her side arm, turned the handle with her other hand.
As she felt the door handle turn, her thoughts swiftly went back to her conversation with Officer Carven.
What had he said was her murdered victim's preferred name?
Oh, yea...the Sandman.
XXX
The moment the fighting started, Brian found himself drastically out numbered. He had thought that it was just him and Mister Strange, who he was still having a hard time placing – some how this vampire knew him. Yet, in all Brian's travels, he couldn't remember ever meeting Mister Strange before.
Here he was, standing in front of six individuals who all wanted to take his head off. If this wasn't aggravating enough, his thoughts kept constantly veering to what Cirpian would be doing right at that moment – possibly laughing his ass off at him.
“You've lost your edge.” that's what the bastard would be saying right about now.
So what if he had.
He still knew how to best even the strongest of enemies.
The first one to come at him, was a pasty face female fledgeling and, it was because of her unhealthy eagerness, that she ended up being the first one that he decapitated.
The others were a little more cautious and preferred a more subtle attack, rather than an actual running up to him.
The second one that decided to meet his sword's acquaintance, was a darker skinned man. It was during their sword play, though, that Brian almost lost his ear.
When the guy came at him, he swooshed his sword so close, that Brian heard and felt the sting of the sword on the tip of his lobe.
As a trickle of blood ran down his nick earlobe, Brian irritably rammed his sword into his quarry’s chest. Upon quickly withdrawing his weapon, he hastily decapitated the man.
The other two, both darker skinned women, were a little more smarter than the man. Their form of attack, was to work together to take him out.
While they both had their conjoined experiences; it didn't take, but a matter of minutes for him to take both women out.
Once Brian had decapitated the last woman, he hastily surveyed his surroundings. One would have thought, that with all the noise going on in the partially empty garage, that someone, like a security guard, would have shown up. Yet, except for him and his opponents, no one else was there.
As Brian searched for the other person, that he had been positive was with the others, his gaze finally landed on the smug, Mister Strange.
Hadn't there been six?
Brian had been almost positive that there had been six enemy vampires. Yet, now there appeared to be only him and Mister Strange – who, after all this killing, Brian still couldn't place.
Shrugging off that 'I've miss something' feeling, he turned his attention to Mister Strange.
As Brian made his way over to him, he noted the sinister smirk on his face.
“Why are you smiling?”
“Isn't it obvious...?”
Before Brian could reply, he felt this sharp excruciating pain. Looking down at the tip of the sword protruding from his chest, he knew then why Mister Strange was smiling.
He had missed one.
XXX
Once they entered the apartment, Genevieve did a quick sweep around the room that she had been in earlier that day. The music was louder from the living room, which left only one other room – the bedroom.
Duh, of course it was coming from the bedroom; that was the only other room in this small dingy cesspool.
Mr Sandman, someone to hold
(Someone to hold)
Would be so peachy before we're too old
So please turn on your magic beam
Mr Sandman, bring us, please, please, please
Mr Sandman, bring us a dream
As she listened to the song wrap up, she found herself adding another song of 'I hate' to her list. That was too bad, because she had actually enjoyed listening to the oldies – now every time she heard this song, she'd be reminded of this night.
Oh, peachy.
As she listened to another bung, vibrate from the bedroom, she positioned herself on the right side of the bedroom's closed door frame and noted how her partner did the same on the other side.
Nervously looking over at her, he mouthed, “You ready.”
He had to be kidding.
She was so tempted to say no, but instead all she did was nod her head.
“You first, then.” frowning at him, he mouthed, “Your idea..., doll face.”
Snickering at him, she got in positioned to kick the door open.
It took only one kick for the door to fly open, and she couldn't help being surprised by how it didn't go flying, like the dust that had settled upon it, from it's hinges.
Quickly looking around the room, her surprise over the door was quickly replaced to now being relieved at seeing nobody there in the bedroom.
Yet, while she was relieved, she found herself even more astonished by not finding what she was expecting. It had taken her imagination concocting something so fantastically horrible, that she was slightly taken off guard.
Her stiff wasn't sitting up in his bed, with maggots crawling all over him and green ooze seeping out of him; his dead eyes staring at her and a sick smile plastered to that pasty face of his.
While she had imagined this to be what she would find, she couldn't say what was more disconcerting, an empty bedroom or what her imagination had stirred up.
Yet, it was the empty bedroom that had her taking a he
sitant step back.
Where was the flesh and blood person, she had thought would be here?
She was so stumped by why there was nobody here, including her corpse, that she literally flinched when Kyle walked past her to the record player—that had finished playing the record and was now making this skipping, scratching, noise.
As her partner turned off the record player, her gaze continued to wander around the deserted bedroom.
Yet, what had her quickly looking back over at the record player, was when it suddenly dawned on her, that that piece of furniture hadn't been there before.
Where had it come from?
Going over to it, she fingered the rough surface, and looking nervously at her partner, she mumbled to herself, “This wasn't here, before.”
“You sure?”
Kyle's sudden voice, had her inwardly flinching. For a few brief moments, she just stood there silently staring at him.
“Ah, hell, Kyle... I don't know anymore...”
As she continued to silently survey the record player, it was then that she caught this slight movement out of the corner of her eye. Swiftly turning around, she was very much surprised when she saw that nobody was standing there. She had been almost positive that she had felt and saw someone run past, but apparently there was no one there.
“Gen...”
After apprehensively looking back over at her partner, she cautiously moved over to the bedroom door.
As she stared outside into the living room, she noted that the apartment's door was now closed.
Had they closed the door?
She couldn't remember closing it.
Yet, it was possible that her or Kyle had closed it.
It was as she was perplexedly staring at the apartment's door, that Kyle said, “I believe you, when you say that this wasn't here before...” he skimmed his fingers over the record player's rough dusty surface. Adverting her gaze away from the door, she puzzlingly stared at him. “Besides, why would something this old be in a drug dealers apartment...? This looks like an antique...”
That was the question, wasn't it.
Yet, she hadn't an answer to that or any of the other questions that kept looming their ugly heads at her.
“Lets get out of here...” when Kyle said this, she again looked back at the closed apartment door.
She had been so out of it, that she hadn't noticed that he had walked past her to the door. Yet, now, that she was watching him, she had this horrible urge to stop him.
As Kyle reached for the door handle, he said, “This place gives me the creeps...Did you notice no one was out there in the hallway?”
Genevieve was having such a hard time finding her voice, that she couldn't even get the warning out, before he yanked the door open.
It was like in slow motion. No sooner was the door coming open, was she rushing toward him to close it.
Yet, she couldn't get to him fast enough.
As they both stood there looking surprisingly at the five men that had accosted her earlier that day, Genevieve instinctively reached for her holstered weapon.
She couldn't put her finger on what was wrong with these five wannabees, but they looked different from that day. Their faces were grayish pasty, and there was this sinister look in their eyes that hadn't been there before.
“Hey, baby...” the one standing nose to nose with Kyle, looked directly at her. “Want to shove your gun up my ass, now...”
Kyle must of noticed their strangeness himself, because one minute he was standing there still holding the door and the next minute he was slamming it in the faces of the men who stood on the other side of it.
Because Genevieve was still grappling with what was happening in front of her; she was having a difficult time moving from her spot. As she perplexedly watched Kyle ram his shoulder against the door, she couldn't help being astonished by how strong these five men were. Her partner was no wuss, he had his share of muscles and could best any man in a fist fight.
Yet, these men on the other side of the door, who had wussy muscles and only one out of the five had a lot fat on him, were giving Kyle a run for his money.
They were pushing so hard against the door, that Kyle was working extra hard, just to keep the door shut.
This whole situation was right out of one of those B horror movies; Genevieve stood there, unable to move. And the room, except for the beating of her own heart, was totally void of sound. What had Genevieve even more paralyzed in place, was knowing that she should move.
There was something so disconcerting about the situation. The whole time that she stood there, fixated on nothing, yet fixated on something; she hadn't a clue on how long she was paralyzed in place.
Yet, what had her eventually moving, was when Kyle yelled out, “Gen..., help me!” that's when she came out of her dazed state, and her brain was finally able to make her eyes see what was in front of her. She noticed how her partner was throwing his shoulder into the door, trying to use his upper body strength to keep it close.
Swiftly re-holstering her gun, she hurried over to him and tried using her strength to help with keeping the door closed.
Yet, no matter what they did, the five men on the other side of the door were adamant about getting in with them.
It was when one of the men found a way to wedge his arm through the slight opening, that Genevieve's survival instincts kicked in. They needed to get out of there, but the only way out was through the door that had the wannabee bozos on the other side – fat chance of them going out that way.
Unless...
Hesitating a glance over her shoulder at the bedroom, Genevieve tried figuring on how many stairs they had climbed to get to this apartment. She hadn't been paying attention.
The second floor!!!
That's what her brain kept screaming.
You're on the second floor, idiot!!!
Hastily glancing over at her partner, she said, “Kyle...,” he looked at her. “when I give you the signal, get ready to run back towards the bedroom.”
“Are you crazy...! We'll be boxed in!”
“No we won't...” when their intruders gave the door a more violent shove, she was practically thrown back. “That window in the bedroom...”
“Right...,” he looked at her cautiously. “but how many floors are we...?”
“We're on the second floor...”
“Are you sure?”
It was another violent jolt, that had her partner grunting as he almost lost his hold. “Kyle...,” he looked at her. “trust me.”
Briefly, he just stared at her, not saying a word. It seemed like eternity, when eventually he nodded. “Okay...” he said, “on the count of three, we both run towards the bedroom...” noting the defiant look on Genevieve's face, he said, “I'm not leaving you here.., doll face...”
“Okay...One...” she kept her eyes on Kyle. “Two...Three.”
Everything happened in slow motion, no sooner had they both moved away from the door, did Genevieve withdraw her gun and take aim at the skinny arm wedged in the door opening. She didn't even think. All she heard was that recognizable sound that her weapon made, when she squeezed the trigger.
XXX
Brian couldn't believe it.
How had he missed one?
Upon his adversary withdrawing her blade from his back, he dropped his sword and crumbled to the ground. All he could do was laid there, staring up at his opponent. He was furious to realize that it was a red head.
He hated red heads.
Of all people he could have met his doom with, it had to be a red headed bitch.
That's just not fair.
When Mister Strange's smug ass came over to him and knelt down next to him, Brian instantly felt himself bristle – he couldn't help getting even more pissed off by the arrogant smirk on Mister Strange's ugly mug. “So...,” he smiled. “want to tell me where Alexandru is..., before you die...” he cackled. “You could give me one last message to give to him.”
&nb
sp; Spitting out the blood in his throat, Brian replied, “Ah...go to hell...”
“You first.” looking at his companion, Mister Strange said, “Kill him.”
As the red headed bitch raised her sword to strike that killer blow, it was then that Brain's life flashed before his eyes. To be honest, it was a very short enjoyable flash.
When he thought about it, he had accomplished...
Tons of sex.
Well, not at all a bad living when you think about it.
The blade was just coming down, when he heard it.
It was a distinctive swooshing sound.
What happened next, happened so fast, that if one had blinked, they would have missed it. Before Brian actually saw the sword itself land right next to him, he saw the red head's head fly clean off her shoulders.
The shit grin on Mister Strange's face disappeared just as quickly as his companion's body.
Smiling at him, Brain said, “You wanted Alexandru...”
It was the slight movement behind Mister Strange, that had him quickly turning away from Brian to face whoever it was behind him.
He didn't even have enough time to withdraw his own blade, before Cirpian gutted him.
As he stood there, hanging off of Cirpian's blade, the last words he heard were Brian's, “Be careful what you wish for.”
XXX
It was that horrible shrill that had Genevieve hightailing it into the bedroom. She didn't even look back at the door, she just flew inside, with Kyle a close second behind her.
Slamming the door behind them, they both quickly pushed the dresser up against the door and roughly moved the record player away from the window.
As Genevieve swiftly scanned the area down below, she could see that it would be one hell of a jump—she could barely make out the brown, dead, grass below.
If they aimed for that area, maybe they wouldn't end up breaking their legs or worse every bone in their body.
At the sound of a gun being discharged, she turned and was surprised to see that, not only had Kyle put a bullet in one of their assailants' head, but their aggressors were almost inside the bedroom—they had practically moved the dresser away from the door.
The Alexandru Chronicles: The Beginning Page 5
