by Hunter Blain
Even though I know I had made an epic Ferris Bueller joke, I fear what both lines of people heard as I passed by at only semi-ludicrous speed was, “aaaaaaaAAAAAAHHHHHhhhhhhh!” Guess we’ll never know. Oh look, a stonewall to cushion my body to a soft halt.
“OOOF!” My body said as air was expelled out of my lungs and a deafening crack shot through my head. As my brain reset, I took note that the ground was rushing up to hug me and tell me everything was alright.
If I had any air left in my lungs, they too would have made an exodus to the outside world. Stars swam in my vision as a pinprick of light formed in the center of my eyes and expanded to build a hotel lobby in an outward, circular motion.
As my brain booted, I thought about the crunching sound and said in an airless whisper, “Please be the wall.” As I looked up, I noticed the quality stone of the lobby wall did not have but the slightest of a crackdown its center. This meant…
My hands slowly moved under my armor and up my chest, which felt like I was smuggling in a bundle of sticks for the campfire. It was time to leave so I needed to heal quickly before the mortals had the bright idea to pull out their smartphones and start filming me. Having one camera record a preternatural creature in action was one thing as it could be easily explained away as having been edited. Get enough cameras from different angles recording the same event, and you got yourself some grade-A problems, Jack!
I painfully pulled what was left of my trench coat over my chest as I began healing, the pops ringing out loudly like a potato chip eating SOB in the middle of a freaking movie. I mean, what theater exec thought chips were a good idea in a movie? Oh, and to you lovely fans across the pond; crisps.
Moaning, I rolled to my side, leaving my blood-helmet in place, before pushing myself up. I glanced at the audience, who were still standing in line mind you— unwilling to give up their spot, and saw only a few phones pointed my way. Acting quickly, I stood up, bowed deeply which didn’t hurt at all while bones were being set, and then righted myself. I pulled out my beanie from my pocket and walked towards the lines, holding the hat out like a bowl. Once people saw I was asking for tips for my planned stunt, all heads shot forward and cell phones disappeared in the blink of an eye. I was actually offended.
“Are you not entertained?” I called out in my best Russell Crowe as I pocketed my beanie and made my way casually to the broken plane of glass.
“Sir! Sir stop!” A front desk clerk with a little plastic nametag that probably said “fun police” called out.
“Que?” I called back as I crossed the threshold, pretending to not understand. Then I pivoted and started running at believable speeds. I squinted at the sky and noticed the sun was caressing the sides of the building, moving down the small of the back to its intended goal; my sweet ass.
Across the street was a Homewood Suites by Hilton, and seeing as how I was a diamond member due to my horrible time management, I decided it was best to relax comfortably rather than try and tempt fate and run home. I can see it now; all humans are dead and the few that are left after the Holy War get up from the lunchroom table when I sit down because I let the apocalypse start by whistling Dixie and walking home. No thank you. I don’t need that kind of social anxiety.
I made my way to the front desk, which was blessedly free from a line, and asked for a room whose window faced north or south. This would limit direct sunlight during the entirety of the day. Little trick I learned after my last foray into a hotel at the last minute. After a few clicks, the clerk gave me my plastic card and I retreated to my rent-a-lair.
Out of pure instinct, I raced to the windows and closed the curtains, ensuring no light would shine through. At least not enough to do any damage.
Feeling the effects of dawn starting to take hold, I knew I was only a few minutes away from passing out. I quickly made my way to the bathroom where I stripped off my clothes and hopped in the shower, washing off all the grime and grit of the night before the water even had a chance to fully turned warm. I used an entire bottle of shampoo and slathered it on my head, beard, and the rest of me because I didn’t have time to use soap. Moreover, I left the little bastard sitting by the damn sink in its little white box. At least I grabbed the shampoo in my rush.
I shut off the water and grabbed a towel, feeling my eyelids fill with lead as I moved. I stepped over my clothes, noticing my poor trench, and crawled into bed wearing only my birthday suit and sense of modesty. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I succumbed to the will of the dawn and drifted off, hoping in the back of my head that I had placed a “shh sleeping,” sign to signal the housekeepers to leave me alone.
Chapter 16
A round mid-day, the answer came in the form of a gasping housekeeper. I barely opened one eye and looked over my shoulder to see a Hispanic woman in her mid-fifties doing the catholic cross over her chest as she looked at my naked body. I was on my stomach and my legs were spread eagle, providing a full view of my fruit basket.
Letting my heavy head hit the pillow, I loudly slurred out, “No thank you.” As I heard the door shut in a hurry, I became aware that I must have drooled on my pillow because it was wet and cold now. Sluggishly, I snaked my hand up to the pillow and turned it over, revealing a fresh canvas to paint with my spittle. Sleep beckoned, and I let it take me.
A handful of hours later, I began to stir as the sun began to lose its daily struggle with the night, and retreat.
I lifted my head and was surprised when the pillow cover came with me, only to release its hold on me when the weight of the pillow kept it from fleeing to a new life on my drool-covered face.
“Both sides, huh” I asked myself. “Hope you’re proud.”
I got up and stretched, not for any physical reason that stretching provides, but as a routine, that signifies the beginning of the night. Plus, it was a force of habit I picked up as a mortal that I didn’t see a particular reason to change. Perhaps it was because I fancied myself with the heart of a human in the body of a romance novel model.
I walked to the bathroom where my clothes still lay, covered in filth from the night before. Picking up my boxer briefs first, I gave them a quick smell test and determined they were basically perfect. One of the perks of not being a human is I didn’t sweat— though I could cry, and my eyes were lubricated along with my mouth. One of these days I would have to pontificate on the odd features of vampires.
I stepped into the black pair of Hanes and slide them into place followed with my dirt covered jeans, and torn shirt. Both my boots and socks had been grinded off. Glancing at the ground, I said a silent prayer to myself as I picked up my poor trench coat. It was all but decimated. The entire back portion of leather that sandwiched the internal components had been ripped away, leaving behind only the innermost leather that attached to the lining of the coat. The trench was now several inches short and frayed. It reminded me of a flamboyant cowboy’s gloves with the little strips of leather that hung from wrist to elbow.
“My poor trench,” I said in reverie as I crouched to lovingly pick up my most loyal piece of attire in the history of ever. Not many people walking this planet that can say they had any article of clothing that survived countless battles over seven decades. Especially not one they took from a freaking Nazi officer who got what he deserved. I was proud of that coat, damn it. It was a constant reminder that there were bad guys that preyed on the innocent and needed…correcting.
For some reason, my brain turned on itself and I said out loud, “Then it makes perfect sense that you would wear it too; bad guy.” Fuck that hurt. Self-burn.
Instead of putting my trench on, I pulled the beanie out of the pocket and left the room as I placed my headgear where it belonged. I left the amalgamation of different leathers draped over my arm as I made my way out. My feet slapped against the stone floors as I did.
As the sliding doors opened, I was reminded of my task tonight like a gentle sledgehammer to the nuts. I needed to make my way back to the lair and come up with a
plan on the fly. Lilith, damn it — why didn’t I text Da last night what was going on?
I pulled out my phone and first called Da. After explaining the situation as I ran towards the church of Father Thomes, Da said he would work with Locke on something before I got home. We had a few hours before Ulric might become suspicious.
I landed in the street in front of the church and made my way to the door. It opened as I arrived and Father T said with a warm, welcoming smile, “I got worried when you didn’t call again. How is Locke? Has he revealed anything pertinent about his master?” I had been keeping the Father informed on the situation so he could help keep a level head. He was the one who suggested that I forgive the man who had murdered my family. It hadn’t been easy, but I trusted the Father completely to guide my soul to redemption.
“Not here for that,” I said as I walked past him. “Got bigger fish to fry right now.”
I caught him up on the situation, which he pondered intently.
“This is very serious, John. You cannot let him kill you just as you cannot kill him.”
“Oh, I’m not too worried about that last part. Lily commanded me to not kill anyone unless I feel they are about to kill me first. Traitorous bitch.” I spit the words out, disgusted with my heart for having developed a strong fondness for her.
“If you don’t mind my saying, it sounds like she is trying to save you.”
“FROM WHAT?” I bellowed out, losing control of my rage momentarily.
At the complete opposite end of the spectrum, Father Thomes softly and soothingly said, “From yourself.”
His words struck me in the forehead and I rocked back ever so slightly as they bored into my brain.
“Even if you were right,” I began after digesting what he had said for a full minute, “there were other ways to stop me.” I began stuttering and waving my hands in front of me as if I were grasping for the right words to convey what I felt, “She- she could have, I don’t know, freaking commanded me to stay away. I would lose my mind if I disobeyed her and she knows it! Why go through all that bull shit trouble?”
“Well,” Father T thought for a moment, lighting a pipe he pulled from a breast pocket, allowing the action to provide time enough to formulate his thought, “What if she cares as much about you as you care about her?”
“Wha…what? I don’t…”
“Lying is a sin, my child. Even to one’s own self. It is clear as night on your face that her actions have hurt more than just your pride.” I appreciated his vampire metaphor.
I thought on this as my throat got tighter. I was in love with Lily and she had prevented me from saving my best friend and stopping my maker.
Father Philseep continued, “If she were to directly command you, it would remove free will and effectively make you her slave. As you have explained it to me, she hasn’t used her full power against you until recently when she asked you to not go looking for a fight. She still gave you free will and an intentional loophole about self-preservation. And what did you do, child? You immediately used that loophole she had gifted to slay an angel.”
His eyes glowed orange from the embers as he took a heavy puff on his pipe.
“I cannot say with any certainty that I would have been as, let’s say, lenient, as she was. And because of that very act of kindness, you have found a whole new avenue for trouble.”
“I don’t know what to do,” I said as I put my face into my hands. This was all too much for my supermodel brain to handle.
“I am confident that you will find a solution. But know this; if you kill Ulric, you are killing every human being on this planet. You are also damning every soul that has ever existed throughout all of history to potential non-existence. Control your emotions, John.” He looked at me a moment longer, ensuring what he had said sunk in. I lifted my face to look at him and he nodded, seemingly satisfied that the impact of his words found a home in my mind.
Father Thomes slowly stood from the pew and began limping to his chambers. It seemed worse than before.
“Father Thomes,” I called out. He stopped and turned his head slightly, looking at me over his shoulder. “Are you ok?” I asked, fearing the answer.
“Don’t worry about me, my child. You have enough on your plate as it is. Now, go save your friend.” He turned and began limping away again, though this time it seemed he was focusing more on not showing how severe he had become over the years. “Oh, one more thing,” he said as he turned fully to face me, “bring Ulric here and I will keep him safe.” As he finished, he stood looking at me without having to say another word.
“Hopefully you’ve made some improvements. I was able to get out pretty easily,” I boasted.
“You lost a leg getting out and lost the other against the churches gargoyles,” he smiled. “But yes, I have made some substantial improvements. I had never thought I was going to need to use the room before. It was built, how do the kids say it, half-assed?”
“So you’ve rebuilt it whole-assed this time?” I said, smiling.
“Oh yes,” he said as he turned and continued his way to his chambers. “I borrowed some from you as you seem to have plenty to share.” I could hear him stifling a chuckle as he walked. I sat, open-mouthed. That is twice I had been called fat lately!
I used my best go-to weapon in such times as these, “Your mom!” I called back. There was no answer as I stood and made my way outside. The concrete surprisingly cool under my bare feet. I took in a deep, contemplative breath, and started walking home. My brain raced with the realization and admission of my love for Lily. Lily who had betrayed me and potentially doomed my wer friends. Lily who had manipulated me from the beginning. Lily. My Lily. A lone tear of frustration escaped my eye and ran down my face. I didn’t bother to wipe it away.
Chapter 17
I made my way home and noticed it was empty. Da’s room was closed and I could see light dancing off the laminate floors under his door. The TV was on in there and he was watching something, loudly.
Odd, but still in the realm of normal I suppose. I took a few steps across the living room in the direction of his room, draping my poor coat over a barstool, when I saw something out of the corner of my eye. Willing a sword in my hand, I turned towards the couch in a defensive stance and saw her. Lily was sitting on my couch, waiting for me. She was wearing modest clothing and had her hair and make-up fully done in a business-like fashion.
“You!” I cried through teeth that threatened to shatter. My jaw flexed and I began breathing heavily out of reflex and rage. “How dare you come here?”
“John, I know. Please listen to me,” Lily stood, pleading.
“No! I don’t have to listen to shit from a traitor. Ulric now has three of my friends because of you.”
“I didn’t know you had the twins with you!” Lily cried out, frantic tears in her eyes. She was aware that my rage was legendary and how what she had done looked in my eyes. There was no way I was going to listen to what she had to say.
“I should kill you, here and now. Stab you through your liver and drain you dry for what you did.” I began walking forward, not in control of my actions. I realized I had let the wheel go and turned my back as PS took control— hungry for revenge. I was only a spectator in my own body, and I was scared. I loved her and what the Father said made sense, but my pride was overwhelming and I wanted to hurt her for hurting me.
“John, stop right there,” Lily commanded, her own anger rising. She thought she had done the right thing and was only trying to explain her situation.
My body stopped…and then a foot stepped out and down. Then the other. I raised my sword arm, straining to fight against her command. Inside my head, I collapsed to the ground, wordlessly crying in immense pain. PS was driving while I was writhing on the ground, clutching my skull, which threatened to cave in on itself. I could feel my mind tearing at the seams.
Lily’s eyes widened at how easily my body kept moving forward, intent to kill her. PS looked over at m
e and shook his head, disgusted, before turning back to the windshield that was our eyes. I was screaming in anguish and rolling on the ground. Each step intensified the pain by a multitude that I could never have fathomed before now. My cries became high pitched and panicked as I could feel my mind begin to fray at the edges, unwinding to leave the precious core vulnerable.
[STOP! SHE’LL KILL US!] I cried out to my Predatory Self who took no heed. Oh shit, if I died, would he take full and complete control over my body? He would have no restraints or compunctions about killing who he wanted, when he wanted. He would be a feral beast with a mind that only knew hunting prey in a body filled with aged power.
[LILY! I CAN’T STOP HIM!] I cried out in my head. Just when I thought my mind was about to snap, PS screeched and grab his own head as he tumbled backward to the ground. The pain in my own head subsided as I threw up in my own mind, moaning loudly. The world that was boiling in rage around me began to settle, and I focused on healing my torn mind as I stood up on shaky legs. After I could see straight, I strode over to where PS was writhing and kicked him in the ribs as hard as I could. With a yelp and an audible crack, he sailed through the room of my mind and crashed into the wall where he collapsed to the ground. Without breaking stride, I stomped over to where he was holding his head with one hand and holding the other hand out to stop me. I bent and grabbed the extended hand and then threw him in an arc to the ground just behind me. There were more cracks as metaphorical bones broke. Bones that felt every bit real to PS.
