by Watts, Peter
Fighters roared overhead but I ignored them, my body starting to feel heavy as the human’s life-force was finally fully consumed by my system. I had used it too quickly, too carelessly. My knees hit the stone of the dais, one hand finding my chest as I felt the last of the man’s life burning away.
But my eyes remained on the fighters as they circled. The Siren queen was not without wounds of her own, greenish-blue blood leaking from a number of cuts and slashes across her body. Some of her head-spines were cut away as well, the stumps leaking the same washed-out blood.
“Why?” Atra-Hassis gurgled, his eyes raising as the two women continued to watch each other. I noticed that the Siren queen was keeping the Watcher behind her, staying between my queen and the man.
In answer to Atra-Hassis, Narcisa laughed. The Siren lashed out and my queen barely dodged the double swipe of barbed skin. In return, Narcisa kicked out, driving the fish-creature back towards the angel.
“You want to know why?” The queen of the First hissed, spinning the blades in her hands in a show of dexterity that was meaningless amongst those present. She lashed forward with her blades the same time that the Siren shot forward with the speed of an eel. Their blows were flashes in the ash storm and my eyes struggled to keep up with them.
Then a kick came out of nowhere and the Siren tumbled across the dais, coming to rest next to Atra-Hassis. Her blood mixed with his, the gurgle of her breathing apparatus fading to silence.
Narcisa came to rest, the ash swirling around her. I must have gasped something because she looked over her shoulder at me, her hair wild around her. Then she was walking towards the downed Siren and Watcher, flicking watery blood from her blades.
As she approached, the Watcher reached out a hand and rested it on the Siren’s still form. A tear of blood dripped from his eye to break the pearl of his skin. Crimson-filmed eyes rose and the hate in them was apparent. Narcisa laughed, the sound causing the Watcher to struggle to his feet, leaning heavily on his staff which pulsed with unshed power.
“The answer is simple. Look at all of you.” Narcisa spread her arms and spun before coming back to face Atra-Hassis. “You’re all freaks. You’re the monsters of mankind, the creatures that stand out in a crowd.”
She came to a halt before Atra-Hassis and licked a splash of the Siren’s blood from the back of her hand. “That’s why the humans chased us away from Earth. You couldn’t hide among them as they encroached into your world. Even Aneko’s people were finding it harder and harder to remain in hiding.”
The queen of the First locked eyes with the lord of the Watcher and she gave him a smile that was all fang. “Only my people didn’t need to fear them. We lived among them, always hidden, always careful. We didn’t flee, we chose to leave!”
Atra-Hassis’s staff pulsed with energy and Narcisa’s fist lashed out, the pommel of her knife cracking across the angel’s forehead. The pulse of his staff instantly dimmed.
“None of your tricks, Atra.” She licked the pommel where his pinkish blood had spilled. “You of all people should realize what I am doing for my people. You can’t escape the humans, they will continue their manifest destiny into the stars and there will never be places we can hide forever. So I did the only logical thing.”
She leaned in closer. “I joined them.”
Atra-Hassis roared from blood-filled lungs and lashed out with his staff. But even as he moved Narcisa’s knife was already piercing the underside of his chin and into his brain. With a savage twist she pulped the organ and the Watcher Lord was no more.
When she turned I realized that the clearing around the dais was silent again. A pair of our cutters swept over the area, most likely hunting for targets. My queen came forward and placed a manicured nail under my chin, lifting my gaze to hers from where it had fallen to the stones out of habit and respect.
“Rise, my child.” She smiled when my eyes met hers. She moved my goggles away from my eyes and I felt as if I was staring at my first love.
“You and your kin have done well. It was necessary to have the humans infiltrate our people. They had the means through their technology to fool everyone, everyone that is, except me. Do not think me a fool for letting them come here, for their purpose was to slay the others’ children.”
Her eyes looked over my shoulders and I turned to gaze upon my brothers and sisters as they stood over the kneeling figures of humans in our garb. Their goggles were torn from their heads but the respirators were left on lest they choke on the atmosphere.
“Once we alter their memories and send them back to the humans, they will believe the clan leaders all dead. The great Vampires of the ages, finally gone to join their Earthen brethren. They will continue their expansion into space, continue to breed and spread. And we will be there, controlling them from the shadows.”
I turned then and looked at her as I realized what she was saying. No more synthetic blood, no more warring with the other clans and the humans. We would exist as our ancestors did, influencing the direction of the mortals.
A smile split my face then and I shouted out praise to our queen. Others did the same, their fists pumping the air.
We still see the other clans once in a while, even now. Perhaps they recognize us for what we are, perhaps not. They are almost gone, hunted by our kill teams to extinction. Leaderless, they could not rally, could not fight back. We are the politicians, the admirals, the kings and queens of newfound worlds. Blood runs freely, we keep harems, and no one believes in us anymore.
My name is Costel Gogoasa and I was there when the vampire council was shattered.
Tarl Hoch is a horror writer based out of Calgary, Alberta, Canada. His works have been featured in places such as 'Bellows of the Bone Box' by Sirens Call Publications, 'Blood and Roses' by Scarlett River Press, as well as 'Fifty Shades of Decay' by Angelic Knight Press. He is also head editor for FurPlanet's upcoming horror anthology 'Abandoned Places'. When not trying to scare others, Tarl can be found reading anything he can get his hands on, wishing everyday was Halloween, or secretly feeding treats to his feline overlords when his fiancée isn't looking. Find his work on Twitter @tarl_writer or on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/TarlWriter
STRAYS
Robert S. Wilson
Evolution has been kind to the human race. At least that’s what they tell us in physical rehab. I wouldn’t know. I still can’t remember much since I woke up in stasis. Just my name, some basic things. Not many details really yet. But they tell me eventually it’ll all come back. It’s not the easiest thing, you know, waking up and finding out that your 24-year-old body has been in a glass tube off and on just shy of two billion years.
And then, there’s the sun thing. I guess it’s gotten kind of bigger than I remember. They say it’s nearly a big red star now. Again, I wouldn’t know. It’s only safe to go outside at night, and even then it’s hotter than piss. There’s no windows here in the Compound. And still the sunlight is bright enough to keep me up at “night” sometimes. Almost like the light creeps in between the atoms or some shit. So yeah, everyone’s really pale now.
My roommate Zack told me all I needed to hear to keep me from getting too curious about that. His brother died a couple thousand years back. Apparently, going out to see one last sunset was all it took. And even though I don’t remember much, I somehow know that things are really different than they used to be. I mean, I guess I do see flashes of things from time to time. From the past. My past anyway. But they’re never enough to really make any sense.
But, I digress.
It’s not like I need to remember things or go outside anyway. I mean, seriously, Zack and I have it made in this place. We still have three weeks until we go back to work (whatever the hell it is we do, I sure don’t remember) and our computer is stocked to the max with every game, movie, TV show, album, or book we would ever want. All the way back to the ancient stuff like 21st century American television and Shakespeare and all that jazz—well not literally althou
gh I would imagine they have plenty of that, too.
Anyway, me and Zack sit around playing games, watching flicks, listening to music—mostly with headphones—Zack’s into dubstep and I’m more of an old school metal head. I also like to read a lot, but we’re always so busy that I haven’t been able to finish a book since—well, since being here, really. Or was I here before? You know, I don’t know. I’ll get back to you on that.
But, it’s really cool here. We get to hang out and do what we want. The food’s okay, I guess—yeah, I almost forgot about that. We don’t get much variety. Any really. Just these prepackaged smoothie-sort-of-things they call Juice. The stuff doesn’t look or taste anything like juice though. I do remember that much. They have all our daily stuff in them, and they don’t taste bad at all—really they’re great, I just kinda miss having a steak or a grilled burrito and all that. But it’s cool. Less time picking out food, more time kicking Zack’s ass at Galaga.
Last week things got weird though. Well… weirder.
Every now and then a white banner with bold red text shoots across the bottom of the screen with news and shit. Almost always about the mothership they’re building and the latest breakthrough in terraforming research. I mean I get that things like this are important—Earth won’t last much longer, we’ll have to find a new place to go and all, but they could find a better way to update people. Anyone who’s ever played Galaga knows the bottom of the screen is where your fighter is and if you can’t see him, you can’t shoot jack fuck. But so, last week it’s something new. I didn’t get it and neither did Zack. The red bold lettering flashed and they even stopped our game and filled the speaker with this screeching alarm. The words blinking on the screen, making my eyes hurt, said something about “Strays”—even capitalized it. Said there were three “Strays” loose in the compound in Section 36-9, Subsection D and if anyone saw them to alert the authorities.
But how the hell were we supposed to know if we saw them if we didn’t know what they were? I mean, it gave a description, but, still. The first one was supposed to be female, five feet tall, short black hair, pale skin (hell, we all have pale skin, we can’t go out in the sun!), and blue eyes.
So they’re people, I guess? Stray people?
Who knows.
I broke 100,000 points in Galaga, and Zack’s been trying to top me all week and the little fucker just might if I let my focus slip too much. So, back to business. He’s on stage thirteen right now, didn’t even manage a perfect score on the last challenging stage. His fighter’s whizzing left and right in between queen bullets, sliding his ship to the left while one of those little blue and yellow bee jobs tries to scoop up behind him. The thing comes around and Zack’s ready, shoots it just in time. Learned that move from me. One of my signature touches. I almost say so, but I don’t wanna distract him. I like winning fair and square. Victory’s a bitter pill when you have to cheat to survive.
And, of course, it doesn’t take long before he’s crashing into another queen, trying to get right up in front of her as she makes a pass carrying the ship she just captured strapped to her back. Kablooee, all three dead.
My turn.
And as I’m picking up the controller, whatta ya know, it’s that goddamn bulletin alert again; sounding alarm, flashing words on the screen and all.
…LAST SPOTTED IN SECTION 222-1, SUBSECTION J. IF SIGHTED DO NOT TRY TO CONTACT!!! SUBJECTS ARE INCREDIBLY DANGEROUS. REPEAT: ***WARNING*** TWO STRAYS REMAIN WITHIN THE COMPOUND. SUBJECT-A IS FEMALE, FIVE FEET TALL, DARK HAIR, PALE SKIN, AND BLUE EYES. SUBJECT-B IS MALE, SIX FEET, TWO INCHES TALL, RED HAIR, PALE SKIN, AND GREEN EYES. LAST SPOTTED IN SECTION 222-1…
“Dude, that’s here,” Zack says. I’m hearing him but I’m still pretty confused about the whole fucking thing. Oh well. I just hope we’re safe from whatever they are.
So, I’m just about to get out the game controller and Zack won’t stop looking out the peephole. “Jordan, come on, man. We should totally go out there and see what’s up.”
“But I was just about to kick your ass…again. Besides, what if it’s not safe like they say?”
“Oh, come on. We’ve been cooped up in here for weeks. Aren’t you getting tired of this shit?” Zack says holding up his controller and aiming it at the wall screen. “I sure as hell am. I wanna go see what’s going on.” Zack turns toward the door and I do feel a little curious—maybe—I guess—ugh… why not?
“All right, but if it gets hairy out there, we’re coming straight back here and I’m roasting your behind with a new high score.”
Zack laughs and nods, “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” opens the door and waves for me to come on already.
So, we walk out into the hallway and it’s the same ol’ thing as always: long monotonous corridors, tan concrete walls, mostly empty gray linoleum walkways with the occasional pale passerby striding along. We take a right hand turn at the first corner and it’s just like the last one. But in the blink of an eye, it’s not anymore. There’s an explosion. People around the corner turn and run toward us, screaming.
Zack looks at me and it’s all slow motion. The people disappear into whatever door they can manage to. Smoke pours from the corner, funneling into the hall we’re standing in and now someone stumbles out of the cloud, naked, filthy, and coughing.
She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
Even with all the dirt caked on her skin and her hair disheveled in a tangled mess. Subject-A has to be an angel from Heaven and I look at Zack.
“We have to help her.”
Zack just stares back at me like a deer in headlights. Like he doesn’t know what to do. His body shakes, his teeth chatter. The next moment, I’m leading Subject-A to our room, Zack follows, turning his head this way and that, like we just robbed a bank or something. We get her inside and close the door and the next moment dozens of footfalls running past has Zack standing by the door like a statue. A moment later, they’re gone and we all let out a sigh of relief.
“Are you okay?” I ask Subject-A. She just stares at me like I’m a distant object she can’t quite focus on.
“Dude, I don’t think she understands. Maybe you should try some kind of sign language?”
“And just how the fuck do I do that, Zack? I don’t know any sign language and I sure as hell don’t know how to say ‘all right’ with my hands.”
Zack shrugs. “Man, I don’t know.” He’s staring at her naked body and it dawns on me maybe we should give her some clothes. I rush back to my room and dig through drawers until I find a pair of pants and a shirt that look like they might not fall off of her. Putting them on isn’t so easy though. She doesn’t understand, jerks away when I try to put them on her. After a while she calms to my attempts and, with some help from Zack, who’s still practically slobbering onto the floor, we get her dressed.
“Don’t you think we should have cleaned her up first, man?” Zack says.
“After how that went? I have a feeling if she reacts like this to clothes, a metal tube spraying her with hot water will make her go ballistic. Why don’t we ease her into it, okay?”
“Good point.”
“So… now what do we do?”
“I don’t know, man, this was all your bright fucking idea. How long do you think we can hide her before they come knocking on our door? And what the hell is wrong with her? You think she came from one of the stasis chambers?”
“I know even less about this shit than you do. I mean, I’ve been having a lot of fun and all, but this whole thing really freaks me out. Why are they after her? She’s completely harmless. Scared of her own shadow.”
“I don’t know, man. I’ve only been out of my chamber a few weeks longer than you. This is the first I’ve heard of ‘Strays.’ She looks just like we do. I mean, not quite as pale—probably been out of stasis longer or not at all.”
“My bet’s on not at all.”
We both stare at each other for a long time. The whole thing stinks bad and we don’t want to
admit just how scared we are. At least that’s how I feel.
I look at Subject-A. Our eyes meet and she smiles. It’s the most simple human gesture and it melts my heart.
“Maybe it’s time we started paying more attention to the news?”
Zack nods at me, half in a daze.
~
It’s been two days since we found Subject-A—we call her Anne now—and they still haven’t come looking for her. They don’t seem too concerned either. No more broadcasts about “Strays,” no more flashing text. Maybe they think she found her way out of the Compound, or maybe they think she’s dead. Who knows.
She’s been sleeping in my room and I’ve been crashing on the couch. And when we throw on a movie or watch the news or something, she just stares at the screen no matter what’s on, like it’s the most engrossing thing ever.
We’ve been feeding her juice, but she doesn’t seem to like it. Barely touches the stuff. She’s thinning out, too. I don’t think she’s gonna last much longer. Zack’s been trying to talk me into telling someone at rehab, or even turning her in to Compound Security. But I’m afraid of what they will do to her. She’s obviously different from us—doesn’t know how to speak, doesn’t like what we eat. I’ve decided to find out where she came from. Somehow. Maybe if I can take her back there, she’ll be okay.
“Promise me you won’t try anything while I’m gone.”
Zack just looks at me like I punched him in the face. Says “yes” through gritted teeth. I’m not trying to be a dick, but I’ve already caught him trying to sneak in my room once. And the way he stares like she’s a piece of meat—I wish I could take her with me. But, that’s not even an option.
I take one last look at Anne before I go. She’s staring at the wall screen, doesn’t even see me. I slip out the door and head down the hallway. I’m finding it harder and harder to believe that I haven’t been asking questions. Haven’t even tried to go anywhere but where I’m told. If there’s somewhere we’re not supposed to go, I don’t know about it. Today, I’m going to find out.
