Perpetual Creatures, Volumes 1-3: A Vampire and Ghost Thriller Series

by Gabriel Beyers

  But she didn’t fall. Not far, at least. Jerusa dropped about an inch before her feet hit something solid. She glanced at Ming, but she was busy directing Celeste and Ralgar toward the door. She looked down and was surprised to see Alicia standing in midair below her, her outstretched hands cupping Jerusa’s feet. The ghost motioned with her eyes for Jerusa to take hold of the window again. Jerusa grabbed the now exposed wooden frame, finding a more sure hold this time. Alicia waited for her to secure herself, then vanished.

  Jerusa didn’t have time to contemplate what had just happened. At that moment, Celeste motioned to Ming, who then gave her team a collective telekinetic tap on the back. Jerusa hesitated only a moment before jackknifing herself headfirst through the tiny upper window.

  Glass rained down, and doors where kicked from their hinges as the two teams of Hunters stormed the warehouse. Jerusa hit the concrete floor on the other side, rolled to her feet, and rushed forward, skewer in hand. Ralgar and Taos rushed in, orbs of fire hovering above their palms, as did the pyros of Midnight Fire. Jerusa and the other Midnight Fire telekinetic, a middle aged Irish woman named Rachel, filled in the gaps. Trevor and Ming entered, walking slow and with authority. Celeste and Washington entered last, but did not approach the melee.

  The warehouse was open and empty, with just a few empty hobo camps littered about. It had a high ceiling with a large skylight in the center. The place reminded Jerusa a little too much of the warehouse she had faced Kole in. From the look on Foster’s face, he felt the same way.

  In the center of the dusty concrete floor stood four vampires and one human. One vampire was a larger girl with face piercing, another was covered in tattoos. The third was an old, withered man, and the fourth was a disheveled looking woman with long, stringy hair. The human was a short, fat bald man who was spinning in frightened circles like a cornered rabbit.

  A lump rose in Jerusa’s throat. None of these people were going to make it out of this warehouse alive.

  “Halt and prepare to be judged,” Trevor said in a haughty tone. Ming glowered at him. For all her faults, Ming didn’t showboat. She did her job, twisted as it may be, to the best of her ability, and Jerusa knew that deep down she believed that what she did kept the world safe.

  “By what right do you judge us?” the tattooed vampire asked.

  “By the authority of the High Council of the Stewards of Life.” The contempt in Trevor’s voice was matched only by the look of hatred upon his face. “Why have you not presented yourselves to the Stewards? Are you the master of this coven?”

  “We don’t recognize any Stewards. They don’t control us. Our master has set us free to do as we wish. We will not bow down to—”

  Trevor reached out with his hand. Immediately, the tattooed vampire gripped his throat in utter pain as his feet lifted from the floor. Trevor flicked his hand to the side and the vampire flew across the room. One of the Midnight Fire’s pyros (a tall bird-like vampire) hurled a blast of flame, brilliant and brutal, hitting him in midair. The tattooed vampire uttered a shrill cry, but burned to ash before hitting the floor.

  “It is my judgment that you all be found unworthy,” Trevor said. “Do you agree, Ming?”

  Ming’s cold eyes searched the remaining undesirables. Her wide nose wrinkled as though she smelled something rotten. “I agree.”

  “You are hereby condemned to death.” Trevor turned to his team. “Dispatch them quickly, but leave the human for me.”

  Midnight Fire started to advance.

  “Wait,” Jerusa shouted. The whole room stopped. Even the dust motes seemed to pause midflight to stare at her. “You can’t just kill them. They’ve done nothing wrong. Give them the chance to prove themselves worthy. Just like the chance each of you received.”

  Taos stood down and backed away, but he was the only one. Trevor barked a harsh laugh, and with his telekinetic hand, dragged the screaming human into his grasp.

  “I never thought I’d see the day that the Crimson Storm would be consumed by weakness.” Trevor walked, dragging the human by his throat, to the center of the room. “You are no Hunter, girl. You’re a freak. Your gift doesn’t make you powerful, and it is no use to us. You have failed to find Suhail, and you will be dealt with as soon as we are finished here.” Trevor bit into the man’s neck, quickly draining him of life. He dropped the body on the floor and turned to his team. “Feed, then kill them all.”

  A huge crash bellowed down from above, shaking the whole warehouse. Heavy footsteps, as though an elephant were running across the rooftop, thundered down around them. The Acolyte appeared in the room just before Alicia and all the other ghosts came rushing in, panic fixed in their spectral eyes. The skylight exploded, raining glass and debris, as a large form dropped through the ceiling, crushing Trevor to the floor.

  Jerusa had never seen anything like the creature that stood in the center of the room. It was huge, bigger than Taos in both height and mass, with unusually long arms and legs. It was mostly naked, except for a tattered pair of pants and massive leather duster that had been crudely fashioned from bits of several Hunters’ trench coats. It was hard to say if it was a man or a woman, because it had several features of both. Its skin was a disgusting patchwork of tones and types, as though this creature was the result of a whole crowd of people being smooshed together like clay. One eye was bright blue, the other was dark brown. On each sides of its massive cauliflower-shaped head were not one set of ears, but several, and not in equal numbers. It sneered at them, or smiled, Jerusa couldn’t be sure. Its lips seemed to change size, shape, color and gender at least eight or nine times. It was clear this creature was vampire, because it had fangs, but instead of a normal set of teeth, they had all been plucked out and replaced with vampire fangs of various sizes.

  Trevor squirmed in broken anguish beneath the abominable creature’s feet, coughing up great spouts of blood. The ogre knelt down, wiped his hand, which had an unmatched set of fingers, through Trevor’s blood, then smeared it across his tongue. In one swift motion, it took ahold of the end of its tongue then bit down hard, severing the tip. It flung the piece of flesh upon the ground, then reached down and ripped Trevor’s tongue from his screaming mouth. With sharp, jagged fingernails, the beast trimmed off the end of Trevor’s tongue, then placed it upon his own bleeding wound. Trevor’s bit of flesh immediately attached, healing in place, though not in perfect alignment.

  Jerusa looked to the grinning Acolyte, realizing who the vile ogre was just as his name escaped her lips. “It’s the Monster!”

  Within the warehouse, all hell broke loose.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The Monster. The hunter of Hunters.

  Jerusa could see why his name was spoken in hushed whispers among vampires. The Acolyte, invisible to everyone but her, danced about in circles around his master. The undesirable vampires fell on their knees in worship.

  The Monster reached down, snatched Trevor’s broken body from the ground, and with one brutal jab, punched a hole through his chest, pulling out a pile of pulp that had once been a heart. The Midnight Fire Hunters broke into a collective roar of anger. The Monster chucked Trevor—who was already beginning to go savage—at them like a chunk of raw meat.

  The army of ghosts instinctively vanished, giving Jerusa an unobstructed view. Alicia and Foster remained at her side, and the Acolyte continued his celebration. Both teams of Hunters rushed in. Ming grabbed the Monster by the throat with her telekinetic hands. The Monster stumbled forward, but only a step before he caught his balance. He spun his arm in a wide circle, as though he were wrapping it around a rope, and then yanked back hard, pulling Ming off her feet.

  The Midnight Fire pyros came in next, throwing bowling ball sized orbs of fire. The Monster was incredibly fast for a massive being with gangly arms and legs, dodging each one with ease. The skilled Hunters looked more like novices as they ran about, lobbing fire at the Monster. Several parts of the warehouse were now burning and Alicia had to push Jerusa
out of the way to keep her from being hit by a flaming projectile.

  Ming and the Irish telekinetic, Rachel, were trying to snare the Monster, but he seemed somehow able to shuck off their invisible hands. The vampire with the face piercings and the vampire with stringy hair joined in the fight, leaping on Ming and Rachel. That wasn’t a wise decision. The telekinetics wadded the fledglings up into piles of quivering flesh and broken bones, without even dirtying their hands.

  Ming turned to Ralgar. “Burn them!”

  Ralgar ceased his pursuit of the Monster, who was now punching his bare hands and feet through the fabricated metal, climbing the burning walls like a spider. The Monster’s two fledgling vampires were injured beyond hope of regeneration, and they had gone beyond savage. Their twisted forms bloated as they turned black. At any moment, they would explode in a cloud of spores that would turn every living creature in the warehouse into savages. Ralgar conjured an inferno that washed down over the two gelatinous blobs like a wave at high tide. The heat singed Jerusa’s eyelashes from across the room.

  The only undesirable vampire left was the withered, elderly looking man. Though his body had been old when he had been turned, his new vampiric body was quite strong and nimble. The old man darted around the room, dodging misplaced shots of fire, rolled out of the way so as to not be trampled by his own creator, and did an otherwise excellent job of avoiding any contact with the Hunters. Jerusa could see in his eyes that he was frightened. But who was he more afraid of, the Hunters or the Monster?

  “Keep the Monster contained,” Ming yelled. “Don’t let him escape!”

  Escape didn’t seem to be on the Monster’s agenda. He continued bouncing around the wide open space, somehow avoiding almost every attack the Hunters threw at him. Celeste and Washington drew their own skewers and joined in the chase, and though it wasn’t common for an augur to engage in battle, both of them seemed well trained.

  The shock of the moment passed—they had been inside the warehouse less than five minutes—and Jerusa drew her own skewer. Alicia manifested before her, blocking her way. Jerusa attempted to go around, but the ghost in the blue prom dress took her by the shoulders and forced her back a step.

  “Alicia,” Jerusa shouted over the cacophony of battle raging in the warehouse. “Let me go. I need to help them.”

  The Monster suddenly changed tactics. With Celeste and Washington in the melee, it was him against eight Hunters. The gargantuan spun on the balls of his bare feet, and charged into the Hunters. Ming used her telekinesis to shove Ralgar out of the Monster’s reach, sending him tumbling into the elderly vampire. Taos tackled Celeste and the pair went sliding across the floor. Rachel, however, wasn’t quick enough with her telekinesis to protect her own team. The Monster snatched the bird-like pyro off of her feet without even slowing down.

  The woman conjured up a spectacular conflagration between her flailing palms and shoved it into the Monster’s face. He shouted in pain, then snapped her in half at the waist. Her fire snuffed. He tore open her neck with his mouth full of razor sharp fangs, gorging on the gush of blood. Still at a run, he crushed her head with his massive hand and threw her body into a darkened corner of the warehouse not yet touched by fire.

  Ralgar pushed up on his hands and knees, his face hovering over the face of the old man. His eyes lit with devilish delight, a look that chilled Jerusa’s blood from across the room. Ralgar rose to his feet, his hand held high over his head.

  “Oh, no,” Jerusa said as she watched the wave of distortion form between Ralgar’s hands. “Alicia, you have to let me go. Ralgar’s going to burn him.” Much to Jerusa’s surprise, the ghost vanished, causing her to stumble forward.

  Jerusa ran with everything she had, diving into a head-first slide for the old man. She felt the heat of Ralgar’s blast on the soles of her feet as she and the old man rolled out of path of the fire. They came to a stop too close to a burning wall, and Jerusa’s hair paid the price. Ralgar came at them. Jerusa jumped to her feet, placing herself between the pyro and the old man.

  Ralgar brought his hands up. “Don’t think I won’t burn you along with him.” He wasn’t bluffing.

  Jerusa spun in a tight circle, grabbing the old man by the ankles, then, with a heavy grunt, she hammer-tossed him through the upper window of the burning wall.

  Ralgar opened his mouth, probably to curse her before he burned her to cinders, but never got the chance. Trevor, now fully a savage, rammed into Ralgar with unstoppable force.

  “Ming,” Jerusa shouted as she ran for Ralgar. “Ming, we need you!”

  Ming stood twenty feet away from the Monster, her hands stretched toward him, her eyes closed. She had a good telekinetic grip on him, and he thrashed back and forth like a mad dog tethered to a tree. The Monster had poor Washington by the ankle and was beating him to pulp against the concrete floor. Taos and the other pyro blasted the Monster with fire, trying their best not to hit Washington, or Celeste, who was darting about like a mongoose, while jabbing with her skewer.

  Jerusa’s scream for help broke Ming’s concentration. The Monster turned and yielded to Ming’s pull. The sudden release of pressure caused her to stumble backward, while simultaneously propelling him forward. The Monster hit Ming with a devastating punch that sent her into the air, through the burning wall, and out into the night. The Monster whipped Washington to the ground one last time and his body made a sickeningly wet smack. The Monster stomped on Washington’s chest and ground his foot until it met the gore-stained floor beneath.

  Jerusa had no time to apologize or regret. Trevor was on top of Ralgar, and it was all he could do to keep the savage’s venomous teeth away from his flesh. Ralgar couldn’t conjure any fire because he had both hands on Trevor’s throat, while the savage hammered him in the face.

  Jerusa rammed one of the double rapiers from her skewer into Trevor’s spine, right between his shoulder blades. The skewer entered at such an angle that it exited Trevor’s throat, the blood-soaked point coming within an inch of Ralgar’s face. Trevor uttered an ear-splitting shriek, but continued trying to bite Ralgar.

  “Stop him,” Taos shouted. The fear in his voiced caused Jerusa to turn. The Monster had focused his attention on her and was coming Jerusa’s way fast.

  Taos stopped his pursuit, sliding to a halt. He closed his eyes and brought his hands together as though he were praying. The air all around him twisted with heat distortion. Jerusa had watched him conjure fire hundreds of times, but this was something different. This was what he had been practicing the night he almost burned himself alive. Jerusa struggled to keep the skewer in Trevor, while fighting the urge to turn and run from the quickly approaching Monster.

  Taos opened his eyes, a fierce look of power swirling on his face. He brought his hands forward. The bird-like vampire (now a savage) emerged from the shadows, tackling Taos before he could conjure his fire. Her ruined head flopped listlessly on her neck, and though her face had been crushed, she still tried to bite Taos. Celeste rushed forward, skewering the savage, but couldn’t dislodge her from Taos.

  The two remaining Hunters from Midnight Fire stayed with the Monster. Rachel used her telekinetic arms to tangle the Monster’s feet, while the pyro (whose name Jerusa had never learned) made several successful hits with softball orbs of fire. The Monster crashed to the ground, shielding his face from the fire.

  The wall that Ming had been thrown through finally succumbed to the flames, collapsing and giving the other three walls a dangerous tilt. Distant sirens filled the night, causing Jerusa’s heart to sink. If they didn’t finish their business in the next few minutes, it was very likely several innocent humans would die to protect their secrets.

  The pyro drew close to the Monster, who was locked in a telekinetic tug-o-war with Rachel. He brought his hands high, summoning a great maelstrom of fire swirling above his head. The Monster watched the fire with wide-eyed defiance, but refused to beg or even scream. As the pyro brought the storm of fire down, Washington—hi
s tattered lungs poking out of the hole in his chest—latched onto his fellow Hunter’s back and bit a large chunk out of this neck. The pyro squealed in fright and pain, his hands spasmed, and the storm of fire shifted off course, consuming Rachel instead of the Monster.

  Rachel’s telekinetic hold on the Monster was severed as she rolled on the ground, attempting to extinguish herself. But pyro-kinetic fire is not like regular fire, and vampiric blood burns like kerosene.

  The Monster jumped to his feet, and with a hard kick, sent Washington and his victim clear to the other side of the collapsing warehouse. He rushed for Jerusa with a speed no creature that size should be able to achieve. Jerusa waited for the last possible second before drawing her skewer out of Trevor.

  Jerusa brought the skewer up, fully intending to drive the point soaked in savage blood through the Monster’s heart. He pivoted to the side as she thrust forward, and caught the skewer handle in his right hand as he clutched her throat in the left. Her vision exploded with starbursts as her feet left the floor. He slammed her into the small part of the wall not on fire hard enough to cave it in, but not enough to penetrate the metal. He wrenched the skewer from her hand and drove the thin blade—the clean one—through her left shoulder, pinning her to the wall. She screamed so loud that even the savages ceased their snarls for a moment.

  “You’re a strange Hunter, I must say,” the Monster said. He spoke in a British accent, with a voice so smooth he could recite the dictionary and make it sound interesting.

  “I’m not a Hunter,” Jerusa choked out.

  “Odd. You dress like one.” He let go of the skewer and snatched the ring from her finger. “You adorn yourself like one.” He tossed the ring away. “Yet, you risked your life to save my fledgling.” He looked down at Ralgar, who was still contending with Trevor. “And I’ve never seen a Hunter fight so hard to save someone that threatened them.”