“THIS SESSION IS NOW IN ORDER ... THE GATHERED WILL RESPECT THAT.” The threat hung in the air for a moment or two before it continued. “UNUSUAL CIRCUMSTANCES (unusual?) HAVE BEEN BROUGHT TO LIGHT. NON-PARTICIPANTS IN THESE TALKS HAVE REQUESTED AN AUDIENCE FOR GRIEVANCES. IT IS DECIDED THAT THEY WILL BE HEARD BEFORE PROCEEDINGS WILL CONTINUE.”
Grievances? Jeez, talk about an understatement.
“FRANÇOIS OF THE VAMPIRES IS RECOGNIZED.”
François had time for one quick look of smug satisfaction before hobbling forward to the center of the area, milking it a bit for added effect.
He cleared his throat loudly (douche) and said, “Today was to have been a momentous occasion. In a show of mutual respect, my people and our honorable rivals have been meeting outside of the confines of this conference...”
“THAT IS HIGHLY UNUSUAL,” the glow-ball interrupted.
“Unusual, but necessary. We wished to meet each other face to face as equals, away from the eyes of those who have sought to disrupt the peace process.” He cast a baleful glare at me. The motherfucker had no doubt rehearsed this. Probably had a script in his back pocket and all.
“It was time well spent. We discovered that neither of our species wishes war and were able to build upon that mutual desire. In just a few short days, we have been able to accomplish what our ancestors took months to do. Today we were to share those results with you. Sadly, this historic undertaking has been marred ... marred by treachery.”
Whispers, growls, and gurgles of “Treachery!” rose up from the crowd. Talk about playing to the audience.
“SPEAK YOUR ACCUSATION.”
“Yes,” said François, building up the drama in his voice. “I shall. I accuse the Freewill!” He pointed a finger directly at my face. I was tempted to bite it, but I had the feeling that wouldn’t exactly help my case.
“Just a few short hours ago,” he continued, “I met with the leader of the Northern Tribes. I had been told of the wonderful news – that our two races would continue to coexist peacefully. As the humble servant (yeah, right) of my people in this region, I wished to convey my personal thanks to Turd for his honorable actions.”
A slight movement in my periphery caught my eye. All of the Sasquatches at the perimeter were standing in rapt attention to François’s tale. I could have sworn, though, I saw a distinct sneer of contempt from one at the mention of Turd’s honor. Was that Grulg? Damn, how I wished these fucking monsters were all wearing nametags.
Despite my momentary distraction, François continued speaking. I missed a bit, but it’s not as if I couldn’t fill in the blanks. “...Freewill had already shown his disdain by defiling this place. But, was it enough? No, not nearly enough to satiate his war-mongering. He and his cohorts, whether compelled or simply enthralled by him, ambushed us. We fought back, knowing that peace is worth more than either of our lives.
“Sadly, you are all well aware of the Freewill’s power. I was barely able to escape with my life, sustaining grievous injuries in the process.” He indicated his leg. “Turd’s fate, alas, is unknown. He bravely fought on, demanding I flee and live to tell of this tragedy. I have since asked the members of his tribe to send a search party looking for him. I can only hope that he, too, was able to escape the ravenous clutches of the beast that stands before us.”
Various cries came from the audience as he ended his little fantasy.
“Murderer!”
“Enemy of the peace!”
“Filthy pile of klobagh!”
I didn’t need a translator to figure out that last one. Motherfucking François! He had played them all like a violin. It was like standing in a courtroom facing off against a masterful lawyer ... which, come to think of it, wasn’t entirely outside the realm of reality. The guy was at least seven hundred years old. Who knew what kind of degrees he had?
Well, fuck that, I say. He may have had more centuries under his belt, but I wasn’t exactly a slouch. I had a decade of role-playing experience and a semester with the NJIT drama society. Hell, I’ve even watched Law and Order once or twice. If I was going down, I’d do so swinging ... verbally at least.
“THE ACCUSED SHALL ANSWER THE ACCUSATIONS.”
I moved to step forward, but Sally grabbed my arm. “Don’t fuck this up,” she hissed. Gee, whatever happened to “good luck” or “go get ‘em, sport?”
“No worries,” I confidently replied. “I got this in the bag.”
I walked forward and then took a dramatic pause to scan the crowd. I made brief eye contact with as many beings as I could (at least those with eyes) before attempting to entrance them with my oratory eloquence.
“François’s charges are all ... bullshit.” (Did I say eloquence?) Maybe not the best opening line ever, but that was okay. I could still win the crowd over. “For starters, you’re several hundred years old, correct?”
“I don’t see what my age has to do with your crimes, but yes,” he answered.
Now for the coup de grace. “A vampire of your age should heal pretty damn fast. I say you self-inflicted the wounds on your leg right before coming out here.” There were murmurs from the crowd at that. Oh, yeah, his entire case was about to fall flat on its ass and I wasn’t even finished with my first thought yet. “I think we both know that any damage I did to you would have healed long before now.”
“Like when you attacked me earlier?”
“Yes ... I mean no! I didn’t...”
“See?” François bellowed to the crowd. “He admits his crime!”
Oh crap. I turned back toward Sally. She let out an exasperated sigh and dropped her face into her hands.
“That’s not what I...”
“Shall we be forced to listen to more of his lies?”
“Hold on,” I cried, trying to get control. “I’ll admit there was a fight...”
Cries of “Deceiver!” and “Treachery!” began rumbling through the crowd.
“But it was all François’s fault. He and Turd ... err ... there were these barrels of syrup ... um.”
“SYRUP?” the glowing thing asked in a doubtful tone.
“Well ... yeah.”
“Must we continue this charade?” François spat. “It is obvious that the Freewill is either lying or has been driven mad by his bloodlust.”
Oh boy, this wasn’t quite turning out as I had planned. Maybe I should’ve stayed in the drama club for an extra semester.
The crowd was now in an uproar. Innumerable threats were voiced. More debris was thrown onto the field. It looked about ten seconds away from turning into the world’s freakiest lynch mob. I noticed Nergui inch closer to me. Bless his insane honor. Not that it would do me any good if a hundred monsters straight out of my childhood nightmares descended upon me.
“ORDER!” the moderator demanded. Unfortunately, even he was starting to lose control. I had little doubt the disintegrations were only a few moments away.
Just then, though, the crowd quieted. A hush came over them, followed by surprised gasps.
I started looking around for the source, when one of the Sasquatches pointed and barked, “Turd! Turd lives!”
I looked to the far side of the hollow to see, unsurprisingly, that he was right. Turd entered, flanked on either side by two other Bigfeet. He was an absolute mess. Blood was splattered across his front and sides. Nail marks ran down his cheek and chest. The skulls he wore glistened with gore. In short, he and François must’ve shared the same playbook because he looked a hell of a lot worse than when I left him. I had merely stunned him, but he looked as if I had backed over him with an eighteen wheeler. Bunch of fucks.
As he walked toward the arena floor, the Sasquatches around us all broke into chants of, “Turd, Turd, Turd!” Despite the grimness of the situation, I had to smirk. Damn, but it was still funny.
All eyes were on his entrance, save François’s and mine. Ours met and locked on each other. I mouthed the word “asshole” at him and he grinned in return. Between the two of them
, they were going to bury me. Talk about unfair.
Turd made his way to the center, directly opposite me. François gave him a respectful bow and stepped aside.
“TURD IS RECOGNIZED,” came the booming voice of our moderator.
“Freewill T’lunta try to kill Turd. But Turd still lives!” the ugly fucker screamed to the crowd. “Freewill want war!” he added, drawing more nasty responses from those around us. He raised one hand to point it accusingly at me. It was covered in dirt and grime. Leaves and twigs stuck to it. I could see ants and assorted other bugs scuttling through his glistening fur.
Wait a second ... glistening!
That was it. Whereas François had been smart enough to clean himself up a bit before coming here, Turd had merely messed himself up more. The filthy fucker hadn’t bothered to wash off the syrup. Maybe I still had a chance.
“Turd wish for peace with...”
“Turd wishes for nothing but profit!” I yelled out, drawing silence from everyone in the arena.
“THE FREEWILL HAS NOT BEEN REC...”
“Excuse me, but this is important,” I said, risking a lightning bolt to the face. “Look at him. I mentioned syrup before and this asshole is practically covered with it. Syrup ... the sap from the sacred tree.”
That obviously meant nothing to most of the participants there, but the Sasquatches around us immediately became a whole lot more interested.
“Freewill is...” Turd started, but he was interrupted by another voice.
“Freewill speaks true! Grulg smell it.”
Taking his cue, the other Bigfeet in the arena began to sniff the air. Each of them had a nose far more sensitive than even mine. Turd still smelled like shit, but I had little doubt that to them he now smelled like sweet shit.
That caught him off guard, but he quickly recovered. He growled at Grulg, then turned back to me. “Freewill throw Turd into sacred tree.” Oh, crap. What if they bought that excuse?
“Fuck that!” Sally cried out. “He’d have to throw you through a dozen trees to get that sticky.”
Guess her knowledge of syrup production trumped mine. Way to go, Sally.
More murmurs from the crowd. I still wasn’t home free, but at least there was some doubt. Sure, being covered in syrup wasn’t exactly a crime. That fact didn’t exonerate me in the least. Still, hearing a little doubt from the crowd was music to my ears.
The world seemed to pause for a nanosecond as this thought sunk in. Jesus Christ, how could I have forgotten? Music! Turd was wearing his skulls, the same ones I had seen that iPod stuffed into. It was a slim chance, but better than none at all. I had to hope he was anal about keeping his tunes nearby.
Without any further hesitation, I dashed toward Turd. Screams of outrage flew through the crowd as I stepped up to him.
Before I could do anything about it, though, powerful arms grabbed me from behind – François’s.
“No! No more bloodshed, Freewill,” he implored, starting to drag me back. He leaned forward and whispered in my ear, “Thank you, fool. You couldn’t have done that better had I planned it.”
“Yeah, well plan this, asshole!” I reached back and slammed my fist into his injured leg. He gasped in pain and his hold on me loosened just enough for me to surge forward again.
Unfortunately, I ran straight into the waiting arms of Turd. He grabbed me with his claws, and I could feel my rib bones start to bend. Goddamn, he was strong. It didn’t matter, though. I was close enough. As he lifted me, I grabbed the string of skulls from his chest and tore them off.
I threw them to the ground, right as I became airborne myself. As I flew through the air, a sound not unlike shattering pottery told me I had finished the job. Now I just had to hope ... OOF! Okay, first I had to land.
“ENOUGH,” the glowing orb declared. “SUMMARY JUDGEMENT HAS BEEN PASSED. FOR HIS ACTIONS, THE FREEWILL SHALL BE...”
“Look!” I heard Grulg (I think) shout.
I lifted my head from the ground and saw that I had been right. Lying there in the remains of a shattered skull was a now broken MP3 player.
“Get up,” Sally said from next to me. She hooked an arm around mine and hauled me to my feet. “I sure as shit hope you have something else,” she whispered. “Syrup and shitty rock music are pretty goddamn weak against their accusations.”
Once back to my feet, I shrugged. “I’m open for suggestions.”
Still, maybe it was enough. The crowd as a whole was somewhat nonplussed by my revelations. The meeting place floor, however, was a different matter entirely.
I Can’t Hear You, I’m Screaming Too Loud
The Sasquatches at the perimeter had begun to close ranks around us. This time, though, their attention was focused entirely on Turd and what lay before him. Snorts of disbelief rose from them (I think. Hard to tell with snorts), but they gradually gave way to snarls of anger. Grulg’s voice was chief amongst the agitators.
“You betray the spirits! You betray our honor!” he growled. Soon, similar accusations began to fly from the others as well.
“THIS IS HIGHLY UNUSUAL,” the glowing thing commented. Since he had yet to proceed with my disintegration, I had to assume he was likewise intrigued. Hopefully this would be enough to make him rethink his summary judgment – which I assumed wasn’t exactly in my favor.
I turned toward François. A look of disbelief was on his face, no doubt at Turd’s idiocy. I mean, jeez, who brings the murder weapon, so to speak, to the scene of the crime? He began to back up.
“Hold on there, Frenchy!” I called out to him. “You might want to stick around. I have a feeling this is about to get goo ... URK!”
Faster than I could even blink, he was upon me. His hands wrapped around my throat and I could feel his claws extend as they began to dig in.
My air cut off (could vampires suffocate? Good question. Never bothered to ask about that) as he quickly increased the pressure to the point where I felt my head might pop off.
My roommates appeared by my side. They each grabbed one of François’s arms, but they might as well have not even been there for all the good they were doing.
They weren’t about to give up that easily, though, thank goodness. Tom grabbed that dopey Optimus amulet still around his neck. He yanked it off and pressed it into François’s arm. Way to go, dude!
There was a flash and one of the hands choking me out began to sizzle. Sadly, the pressure didn’t let up. Who was I kidding? This vamp had already shrugged off much worse damage than that today. Oh, well, it was a nice sentiment on Tom’s part.
“Die Freewill!” François snarled at me, but his voice suddenly sounded far away.
A fist crashed into the side of his head – Sally’s. Unfortunately, she barely moved him. I saw blood begin to spurt out from my direction, covering François’s arms. Hmm, wonder if it was mine. For some reason it didn’t seem all that important.
I felt all ... floaty inside. It was kind of nice. I began to wonder why everyone seemed to be fighting against the friendly man in front of me. He was just doing me a favor ... letting me rest comfortably while he...
The Tome of Bill Series: Books 1-4 (Bill The Vampire, Scary Dead Things, The Mourning Woods, Holier Than Thou) Page 89
