King of Sin

by Nick Freo

  On one corner, we witnessed a single building which sprawled almost as far as the eye could see. It was surrounded by a sea of unmoving chariots, with people flowing in and out of the building as surely as the tide waxes and wanes. There were large pictures or seeing glasses, some of them moving, displaying the many wares for sale in the massive marketplace.

  As we navigated the streets, we learned to interpret the strange changing symbols that controlled the flow of chariots and those afoot. By the illuminated symbol of a red hand we paused on a corner, and beneath the brilliance of a green man-shaped sign we hustled to the far side of the road.

  Everywhere we went, two observations confronted me: these humans wielded a marvelous form of magic, but it had made them weak. No one sought us out or opposed us, and no one displayed the kind of power that could come close to rivaling ours in combat.

  “This world is not prepared for the weight of the upcoming battle,” I confided in Pride as we moved among a bevy of covered food vendors. The delicious smells only reminded me that Pride and I did not require sustenance in the way of mortals. But we could still be tempted by the succulent aromas of this world’s victuals. For what use was a life without pleasure? “We must find a way to gather our strength and prepare. My memory may be uncertain, but I know in my heart that the Enemy is coming.”

  My Viceguard nodded. “I have the same feeling,” she told me. “An unease between my shoulder blades that will not settle. But where will we find warriors to fill out our forces in such a supple world?”

  “Perhaps they will find us,” I suggested, with more than hope behind the words. I could not attribute all of my present unease to the Enemy’s impending approach. There was something else afoot among the people of this new world.

  We maintained our mobility as night fell, finding a path away from the busier streets with their bright lights and gawking common folk. Beneath the cover of dark our pace quickened, but still I felt the unease of pursuit. Someone was following us. And then I smelled blood.

  It was faint at first, but I turned toward it as surely as a water seeker would follow a divining rod. My strides lengthened to such an extent that Pride had to run to keep up.

  “We should be prudent,” she whispered, but I shook my head. The smell grew stronger, acrid, metallic, and wonderfully vital. I wanted to watch it spill, watch it flow out from a fresh wound like a crimson river and steam upon the night-cooled ground. “Let us at least forge a plan!” Pride urged. “We do not know the powers of those who pursue us!”

  “Very well,” I relented, slowing my pace at last. I scanned far ahead with my keen vision, focusing to peer into the dark shadows. There was a partially constructed building ahead, which appeared to be the source of the nearly overpowering scent of blood. “You follow me at a distance and veil yourself as well as you can. I will continue along as now, presenting myself as an easy target. They will think me an ordinary man and come to me. I will kill any that are too close. Take a prisoner from those who flee.”

  “Yes, my lord,” Pride said, slowing her pace to fall back and vanish behind a thicker illusion. I marched onward, my blood roused, and my hands formed into claws that were equally ready to rend bone or bare steel.

  The scent of blood grew stronger, becoming intoxicating as I drew level with the partially constructed building. An odd, unfamiliar material billowed in the wind as a loose canvas sail would, covering the entrance to a narrow alleyway. I paused and looked around. The street was abandoned, the torches that illuminated it flickering at odd intervals. I was alone. And then I was not.

  An attractive woman appeared from behind the billowing sheet, entering a yellow circle of light cast from above.

  “Hey big man,” she called to me. “Wanna come make my night?” I glanced toward her. She had messy brown hair and skittish red eyes, but there was a confidence and familiarity to her posture. She had done this many times before, and it had never failed. Her slender body was certainly appealing enough. I watched as she lifted the front hem of her skirt, slowly, unveiling the tops of her legs and then a hairless sex that sparkled with moisture. “Come with me,” she called as she smoothed her clothing down and wandered back behind the billowing sheet.

  I felt a renewed thirst—for blood, yes, but also for flesh. There was more than one way to enjoy a living soul, and it did not always end with death. Necessarily.

  The bait was laid, the trap clear... and I strode directly into its pincers.

  Steam from a pair of exhaust pipes swirled around the alley, obscuring my vision, but I could hear the woman just ahead, still moving forward. “Keep coming,” she laughed in a singsong voice. “You’re almost there...” She had stopped. She was waiting.

  I stepped out of the steam, and she leaped toward me with speed unlike anything else I had seen on this pitiful world. For a moment, she caught me off guard. She grasped my shoulders and slammed me up against a solid brick wall, hard enough that a cloud of grit dust rose around us. It would have stunned or even knocked an ordinary man unconscious. She clearly expected a clean victory. Suddenly, she bared a pair of incisor fangs previously unseen and attempted to bite into my throat.

  Crr-aack!

  The first fang to meet my skin snapped in half beneath the impact. She yelped and yowled, scrambling away from me and clutching at her mouth. I laughed, running a finger along my neck.

  “Really?” I said as I advanced on her. She scuttled away from me, scooting on her bottom and hands and feet. “Was that really your best effort?” I asked, impatience in my tone. “Your people are pathetically weak—“ The sound of fast approaching footsteps cut me off.

  Another woman, equally inhuman as the first, rounded the corner at a dead run. Her red eyes locked onto me, glowing in the night like a cat’s. As she raced toward me, she reached inside her jacket for a weapon.

  I snorted and stepped away from the fallen creature with the broken tooth. One. I threw a casual straight kick that struck the charging female’s chest lightly, stopping her in her tracks. Two. I pivoted and swung my other leg around like the arm of a trebuchet. Three. The heel of my boot struck the top of the creature’s head, caving in her skull as easily as breaking a dainty goblet.

  “No, Carissa!” the woman behind me cried in shock and remorse. I heard movement and felt her weight descend upon me as she leaped onto my back. Her arms laced around my neck in a tight stranglehold. She was swift and strong, even trained, but not nearly well enough.

  I stripped one of her hands away with both of mine and bent forward to shake her off effortlessly. She landed in a pile in front of me, and I delivered a light kick to her bottom, laughing again as she scrambled to her feet. She was accustomed to her strength and speed giving her an advantage over weaker prey. She did not know what to do.

  Fear entered her eyes and crippled her posture, the same as it had done to every other mortal I had met in this place. She tried to flee past me, but I stepped with her, leering into her pretty face. She turned to race away, but I grabbed her shoulder-length brunette locks and slammed her body against the wall. She crumpled slowly to the ground, looking up at me through stunned eyes.

  “What are you?” she gasped through obvious pain.

  “A nightmare this world can only hope to withstand,” I whispered back. I crouched beside her and took her face in my hands, gently at first, but then my fingers found their way around that sweet little neck. I squeezed almost lovingly, not enough to rob her of consciousness, just enough to cause anguish and fear, to give me absolute control. Finally, I tired of her choked sputtering and released her. She collapsed to her knees again, sobbing.

  I waited until she looked up, cheeks streaked by black tears. She gulped but stopped whining. “Are you going to kill me?” she asked.

  I smiled and grabbed her hair again, pulling her to her feet and up onto her tiptoes so that our faces were almost touching.

  “No,” I said, and a small amount of the tension behind her eyes evaporated. “But I do want somethi
ng from you.”

  She bit her lip and nodded, both hands reaching for the hem of her skirt again.

  “Not that,” I laughed. “At least, not now. I want you to take me to the strongest one of your kind. The one who is so powerful, you would never dare to challenge him. Take me to this creature, and I may spare your life.”

  The air behind her flickered. Pride stepped forth from her illusion.

  “Is it wise to dash off into the lion’s den?” she warned, pacing around me and the pale fanged woman. “What do you know of this human or her world? It could be another trap, or a more dangerous situation still. We should lurk awhile and learn more before we commit to a hunt.”

  I shook my head, flexing my shoulders. The battle with the cowed woman had been just enough to rouse my appetite for violence. I had seen the look of familiarity in her eyes when I mentioned the strongest of her kind—she knew who I sought, and where to find him.

  “My lord,” Pride said. “My body craves violence and more as well, but we must—“

  “What is your name?” I asked the pale woman.

  “Alia,” she said, giving a cheeky wink to Pride. “I suppose I should know better than to ask yours, my lord. Oh, and I’m not a human. Not anymore. I’m a fucking vampire.” There was something odd in her inflection, so I slapped her across the face hard enough to leave a palm print. She gasped and reeled, but my strike did not wipe the smile away. Yes, she was most certainly different from the others we had encountered.

  “There,” I said. “Now we know something of this woman, at least. We can trust her to save her own life, so she will lead us where we wish. Come along, Pride. The night is still young.” I tangled a hand in Alia’s hair and shoved her out in front of me. “Lead,” I growled, “and if anything suspicious happens, you will be the first to die.”

  Chapter 6

  The site of the partially constructed building had been close to the outskirts of the city, but Alia led us back into its heart. She followed the twisting, turning side streets and back alleys, always knowing exactly which turn to take. It was as though she had already spent a lifetime wandering the busy municipality. Her pace increased as we entered a picaresque neighborhood where the buildings looming against the night sky were more artistic and less blockish.

  “There,” Alia said, pausing behind a large iron chariot and peering around its flank. “The big one in the middle of the block. It used to be a theater or something like that. Now it’s the vampire base of operations in this city.”

  The building resembled a cathedral to me, a temple of sorts, with its vaulted ceilings and high-rising spire. It almost reminded me of a larger version of the Pridehold. “I wonder what deity is worshiped here,” I mused.

  “Humans worship false gods,” Alia spat. “The place is powerless, except for the vampires that occupy it.” She gazed over her shoulder at the cathedral, then looked back at Pride and me. “So, what are you anyways... aliens? You’re so fucking strong.”

  Pride and I shared a glance, but neither of us answered the question. Aliens. I understood the word. I supposed we were aliens on this world, but there was no reason to share that and unify the indigenous people against us.

  “How do we enter?” I asked. “Surely even your pathetic comrades have the sense to post guards?”

  “Yes, we do,” Alia said flatly, “but there are a bunch of ways in, and we don’t guard most of the basement ones. Some are boarded up, but I know one is open because I use it to slip in and out sometimes when I need... a more lively snack.” She licked her lips, looking from Pride to me. She had not fed when she expected to. She had to have been hungry, and I wondered if I might use that fact to my advantage.

  We gained access to the cathedral through a wooden door that creaked open on rusted hinges. The building’s cellar smelled of dust and old blood, reminding me of the darker corners of my mind. I took a liking to the place. The archaic architecture favored me, as did the neighborhood and the level of upkeep. Only its leadership needed a change.

  We moved through the dusty initial chamber into a cleaner large room with more humming yellow lights. I sensed the threat before I saw it and glanced around rapidly, seeing Pride do the same.

  “I count six of them,” she muttered.

  “And I as well,” I confirmed.

  The half dozen vampire guards were spread around the room. Some lounged on padded chairs and chesterfields, while one pair stood sentinel opposite the far doorway, which was our destination. We approached halfway before they halted Alia with their words.

  “Where’s Carissa? And who the fuck are these, and why would you bring them here?”

  The vampire who spoke was a slender male of middling height. He had a strangely pointed flower-like tattoo beneath his left eye and dark hair that was nearly long enough to obscure it. Like Alia and most of the others, he wore dark clothing of a fabric unfamiliar to me.

  “These are...” the brunette vampire stumbled over her words. “A gift for the king. Trust me, they are a fucking out-of-this-world delicacy, and I’m sure he’ll want a sample.”

  “Oh really?” The male vampire swaggered forward, flipping his hair out of his eyes and staring up at me. “Maybe I’ll take a quick taste then, just to make sure they’re up to the master’s standards.”

  “They’re for him, not you,” Alia hissed, but the guard from the other side of the door came forward as well, approaching Pride aggressively.

  I stepped between the two of them, and the creature’s dark eyes widened in surprise at my impudence. He reached out to grasp my shoulders, just as Alia had, but I moved far faster. I struck him with the flat of my palm on the point of his nose. Cartilage and bone alike cracked beneath the impact. He recoiled as blood fountained from the damaged area, but I stepped forward and threw a two-punch combination. On a lark, I decided to pour all of my strength behind the strikes.

  The first blow was a murderous straight right that stabbed into the vampire’s solar plexus, doubling him over. But before he could hit the floor, the second punch—a vicious uppercut—caught him below the chin. His head snapped back with an audible crack and he fell, lying still, his neck clearly broken.

  His death was swift, but not silent. As he slumped to the floor, another half dozen vampires filtered into the room through the double doors leading to the main floor.

  “Pride, the time for trickery is long past,” I said. “Let us show them who they are truly contending with.”

  She dropped the illusion in a shimmer of altered light, and I drew my sword and dagger. She brought her knives out of their sheaths, a wary cougar baring her fangs. Once again we stood back to back, our armor and weaponry shining in the dim white light, surrounded by enemy forces.

  “Get them!” roared another guard as he looked up from his friend’s fallen form. The vampires converged on us, but we beat them back with ease.

  My sword nearly split the skull of the first vampire to charge, and I met the second with a kick that struck her in the center of the throat, crushing her windpipe and leaving her retching on the ground. At my back, I heard Pride’s daggers doing their deadly work. They carved in and out of the seething mob, twin needles weaving the strands of their fate. Alia stood back and watched in dismay, appearing confused about which side to take.

  Three more enemies had fallen to open wounds when the assault suddenly halted. The remaining vampires pulled back. Pride and I found ourselves alone in the middle of the room again, our bloody weapons upraised.

  “What is the meaning of this carnage?” demanded a low, melodious voice. It flowed in through the open double doors. “Who are these strangers you have allowed into our domain, my children?”

  A new creature entered the basement on long striding legs, his pale face appearing confident and unconcerned. My lip curled. This fool must have been the king of the vampires. My eyes met with Alia’s across the room and she nodded.

  “This is him,” she said softly but loud enough for me to hear. “He is the str
ongest one of us.”

  “What was that? Speak up, little moth!” The king laughed, striding past Alia and making for me and Pride. “Why are you here? Speak now, or I’ll have your tongues cut out for my amusement.”

  I shared a long, silent look with Pride, then nodded to the self-styled king. “Are you the ruler of this world?” I asked simply.

  He seemed taken aback by the question. His swagger faltered, but in front of his underlings, he could scarcely afford to ignore my words.

  “Of course I rule over this world,” he said dismissively, “but—“

  “Good.” I sheathed my weapons, flexed my shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. “Swear fealty to me now, or die.”

  “What?” The so-called king’s mouth opened in confusion. It would take time for him to become habituated to the new paradigm of power, if indeed he lived to witness it.

  “I am here to claim this world as my own,” I explained. “Your rule is clearly inadequate. Why else would your seat of power be such a dilapidated, forgotten building? Beneath my rule, the people of this world will learn proper respect. And fear.”

  “Alia, who is this crazy man?” the vampire king demanded, rounding on his underling.

  “Don’t speak to her,” I growled, stepping forward. “You have been challenged. Do you intend to answer it, or cower away like a wounded rodent?”

  The king turned and charged, as predictable as a bull in a death match. I spun aside as gracefully as any matador and kicked his legs out from under him. As he tried to scramble to his feet, I caught him in a headlock and held him there easily, displaying his weakness to his followers.

  “You see the might of your king?” I roared at them, cherishing the fear and confusion on their faces. With a few swift techniques I had turned their worlds upside down. “This is the one you have placed on a pedestal above you. The one you have worshiped like a god. The one who—“ I cut off as I felt the vampire king bite my wrist.