Angeles Underground

by Michael Pierce

  I still felt so guilty for offending the one person who seemed genuinely willing to help us, even though over the next few days, she assured me there was no bad blood between us—no pun intended. She came back each day, which was comforting. But once she left, the tension between Mallory and me due to being alone again, returned, as did the waiting for the hospital to awake.

  After Kelsey would leave, I’d reopen the curtains and watch the sun move far too quickly across the sky and sink behind the trees at the far end of the property. It was my only way of keeping general track of the time, which felt like countdowns to the gallows.

  I couldn’t tell if Mallory was sleeping during these times, trying to sleep, or simply avoiding any extra contact with me. With everything else, I didn’t want to deal with her too—but that was the reason we were in here. The longer we put it off, the longer we’d be subjected to this.

  Nurse Oleander entered the room one evening instead of Nurse Dalio, immediately sending shivers throughout my entire body. Everywhere that had felt her wrath began to tingle; my body may have healed, but it remembered.

  “Calm down,” she said. “I’m not here for a snack, just to get your day started. Medicine?”

  Mallory shook her head, but I was beginning to think it might be a good idea, even if it didn’t have painkillers included.

  “I’ll take it,” I said.

  Nurse Oleander produced a menacing smile that only affected the bottom half of her face and handed me the vial of purple liquid. I unscrewed the top and downed the contents in one gulp. It was sweet and thick, covering my throat all the way down.

  “Are you sure you don’t want your dose?” she asked Mallory again, dropping the empty vial back into her pocket.

  “I couldn’t be more sure,” Mallory said, her voice as challenging as ever.

  Nurse Oleander shrugged. “It doesn’t help me any.”

  Then the vicious nurse led us through the motions of the previous nights, from the cafeteria to the Common Room, where we were given time alone while the vampiric staff watched from the sidelines. I tried to forget they were there—knowing now what they were really there for. It wasn’t to keep us under control; one of them alone could have done that. It was more like browsing the buffet.

  The difference this night was the drugs flowing through my system. My head became foggy and I felt myself slowing down, though I didn’t feel drowsy as I would have expected. I was awake but almost detached from my body, feeling less in control. My limbs felt so labored, I’d be even more useless than ever to put up a fight.

  When Nurse Oleander walked us back to our room, she had to help keep me steady and not crash into every person we passed.

  “You look like you’re drunk,” Mallory said, once we were locked in our room again, away from the company of the vampires.

  “I don’t know…” I said. “I feel so weird.”

  “Trying to forget what they do to you? Me—I want to remember every moment. I want to remain committed to killing every last one of them.”

  “You do know that’s a hopeless cause,” I said. “We lose. That’s what we already know. That’s the constant.” I lay on my bed, barely able to lift my head from the pillow.

  “The Society doesn’t know everything,” she said. “They know what happened, but they don’t know exactly what they can change.”

  “They’re not all monsters.”

  “The ones who fall for them are just as bad.”

  “So, you’re giving me another strike?”

  “It’s your choice,” Mallory said, hopping onto her bed.

  “Yours too,” I said, feeling the words reverberating in midair. I felt like I was sinking into the bed—or the bed was enveloping me like quicksand. The good thing was that I wasn’t petrified of what was coming in that moment, though maybe numbing myself wasn’t the best idea.

  Then the door opened and a tall man with short blonde hair stepped into the room wearing a doctor’s overcoat. “Good evening, ladies,” he said, took off his white coat, and hung it from the door latch. “I don’t have long, but I could use a little re-charge.”

  He glanced at Mallory, with her knees huddled to her chest, then over at me, splayed out on my bed. After a moment’s debate, the doctor approached Mallory, then ran a hand down her calf.

  “Don’t touch me!” she protested, jerking her legs to one side, then balled up her fist and punched him in the face.

  The vampire didn’t attempt to dodge the blow, letting Mallory split her knuckles against his jaw.

  “Someone didn’t take her medicine,” he said. “Did that accomplish what you’d hoped it would?”

  Mallory didn’t respond, her lips pressing into a thin line as she tried to determine what—if any—recourse was possible. But before she made a decision to even move, he was on top of her, forcing her down to the mattress.

  The doctor roared as his fangs elongated and sank into her neck. Again, her limbs flailed as she tried to fight him off, but they did nothing to stop, or even influence his assault. His grip clamped down on her upper arm so tightly, he seemed to be cutting off the blood flow to the rest of her arm. It was quickly turning white.

  Mallory screamed, her head forced to one side and her eyes boring into mine with fear and rage, and desperation. I too could not look away and felt tears start to sting my eyes, at first from thinking I would be next, but then from empathy for what she was going through, despite who she was.

  The doctor came up for air a minute later, a thin line of blood trickling down his chin. He placed a palm on her chest and pushed off her body. He wiped his chin with a handkerchief from his pocket, then glanced at me.

  “Fortunately for you, that’s all the time I have right now,” he said, snatched his coat from the door latch, and left.

  Mallory had hidden her face now, but it was clear she was crying. I fought to paddle my way out of the quicksand and spilled from my bed onto the floor. Then I stumbled over to her bed and lay down beside her, draping one arm over her. She didn’t acknowledge my presence and I had no words of comfort, but she didn’t push me away and continued to cry.

  13

  Matthew

  I awoke in an empty patient room in Sisters of Mercy. For the most part, they all looked the same. The view from the window was the major indicator as to what part of the building it was. Ashley was sitting in a folding chair a few feet away.

  “This brings back memories,” she said, noticing I was waking.

  “What? Taking care of me?” I asked, groggily.

  “No; sitting in one of these rooms. Locked inside with a vampire. For all the times I come back here, I try to stay out of the patient rooms.”

  “For good reason, I’d imagine,” I said, still trying to get my head straight. “Where did you find me?”

  “A few of the nurses coming on shift found you in the parking lot. You weren’t exactly in the best shape, but at least you’re safe now.”

  “It’s still a little fuzzy. I’m trying to remember what happened.” I dreamt of being attacked by a house cat, but that obviously didn’t happen.

  “You were found with your head twisted around. Otherwise, you were unharmed. But it would have been a little bit of a disconcerting discovery for a normal person.”

  “I suppose it would,” I said, now remembering how the cat fitted into what had happened. It was the second time I’d had my neck snapped, which would also hopefully be my last. “Some other members of the Assembly would’ve loved to have found me in that condition.”

  “You wouldn’t be waking up here if they did.”

  “I wouldn’t be waking up at all, I imagine.” I sat up and stretched my neck, which was a little stiff, but not bad considering what it had been through. “I didn’t get the guy’s name, but he said I was interfering with Vampire Order business—which means the Vampire Order was behind her accident.”

  “Why? She obviously doesn’t know anything. And you hadn’t even openly approached her yet.”

/>   “It must have something to do with her mother,” I said. “But what? I’ve been trying to find out how she’s connected, but she’s obviously on to me.”

  “Maybe it’s time to confront her directly. Her daughter’s life is obviously in danger,” Ashley said.

  “The only place she could be safer than here is the North Building, but since you got her put in Sisters of Mercy, it will have to do.”

  “I didn’t get her put in here; I kept her from getting expelled from the candidacy program. You’re welcome. Maybe in light of these developments, I can get a motion approved to have them transported to the prison instead.”

  “Whatever you can do would be greatly appreciated.” I stood and tested my balance, finding I was back in pretty good shape. “Has Jack taken a look at the parking lot footage yet?”

  “We have,” she said. “We’re not familiar with your assailant, but he’s already digging for information.”

  “Good; we should talk. Am I cleared to leave the room?” I asked, my lips curling up into a smile.

  “The door’s always open for you,” she said, standing, and folding her chair.

  I grabbed the chair out of her hand and we headed to Jack’s office. With all the activity in the hallways, I looked around, hoping for a glimpse of Fiona. We wouldn’t be passing the cafeteria or Common Room, but it was entirely possible to run into her on her way to breakfast. At least I wouldn’t have to see her injured and in bloody clothes. I didn’t know if she was taking the generally prescribed medicine, but it took about an hour to reach its full effect. Now would be the time to see her in as natural of a state as she’d be in a place like this.

  I hoped Ashley could do something—pull some strings, influence some other members—to get Fiona and Mallory out of there. I didn’t want to keep thinking about what was happening to them, with me powerless to do anything about it.

  14

  Sean

  “This is crazy,” Alexis said, staring at the stack of pictures I had strewn out across my desk.

  Now, there were gaps on my walls from the pictures I’d taken down—the pictures where I’d found Matthew lurking in the background. I even included the ones where I couldn’t fully identify him but knew in my gut that he was the one watching us.

  “He came out of nowhere and now he’s like everywhere.” She glanced up to meet my eyes.

  “I’m not crazy, right? That really is him?” I asked.

  She nodded. “Most definitely. I just don’t understand. Why is he in these pictures? What about all the times she was hanging out with Candace and me? Was he following us too? If he wanted to remain a secret, why did he then reveal himself to us at the coffee shop?”

  “I can’t answer any of those questions,” I said, feeling the frustration rising to the point where I wanted to break something. I wished I could have saved my unsalvageable Honda Civic for something to beat on; it would have been such great aggression therapy.

  “Have you shown these to her mother yet?”

  “No; you’re the first person,” I said. “I needed a friend’s opinion first and thought you were the best person to ask.”

  “I still can’t wrap my mind around this.” Alexis now had a picture in each hand, her attention oscillating between the two. “What’s the timespan of all these pictures?”

  “Probably three or four years,” I said.

  “Is it just me, or does he look strikingly similar in every picture—at least the ones we can make out.”

  “I kinda thought that too, but even when he’s in focus, he’s far enough in the background to obscure some of the detail.”

  “Maybe he’s a vampire and doesn’t age,” Alexis said and almost looked serious—that was until she added, “Dun, dun, dun.”

  “If we actually had vampires running around during the day, I think we’d all be screwed,” I said, allowing for a slight laugh. “Okay; so, I’ll show the pictures to Fiona’s mother.”

  “How about all of the ones on Fiona’s walls?”

  “I don’t know if she threw them all away or what, but she took them down.,” I said.

  “Oh… guess I haven’t been over there in a while.” She returned the pictures she was holding to my desk, dropping them onto the scattered pile. “When are you going to stop by Fiona’s?”

  “You want to come?” I asked. It would be good to have someone there who’d physically met the guy. Alexis agreed, and I drove us in my new Hyundai Sonata my parents had finally helped me buy over the weekend. But we arrived at an empty apartment. I knew Fiona’s mother worked crazy hours, so the chances were high she wouldn’t be there.

  “Do you have her mother’s number?” I asked.

  Alexis was texting someone—probably Candace. “No. My parents might. I don’t really want to wait here.”

  “That’s fine,” I said. “I’ll try again tomorrow.”

  “I have to work tomorrow afternoon.”

  “I’ll let you know what happens,” I said, starting to head back to the car. “Want to get some coffee before going back to my house?”

  “You’re just using me for my caffeine connections,” she complained, still mostly engaged with whom she was talking to on her phone.

  “I’d never dare do such a despicable thing,” I laughed.

  “Your face is despicable.”

  “So, is that a yes?”

  “Fine,” Alexis sighed as we both climbed back into the car.

  15

  Fiona

  I didn’t take the medicine the next night. Nurse Dalio was back, which was a welcomed change from Nurse Oleander. I was leery going into tonight since I hadn’t been touched on the previous one. We’d received one more visitor, who had also taken a liking to Mallory—it was a time when being popular could backfire. I was still comforting her when our second visitor arrived and forced us apart.

  Now all the drugs were out of my system and we’d spent the early evening together in relative silence, the mental image of me holding her trembling body while she cried seemed like a strange dream or some event from an alternate universe. It was still hard to believe it had really happened—that it had been me providing the comfort.

  We went through the motions for our free time. Mallory didn’t talk to the new friends she was making while we spent our designated time in the Common Room; she resigned herself to simply vegging out in front of the television, fitting in a little too well with the other overmedicated zombies.

  It wasn’t until we were alone in our room that she finally spoke to me. “I didn’t thank you for what you did for me last night,” she said, lying in bed, curled up on her side. Her eyes looked haunted, almost glazed over as she stared at the far wall.

  “You don’t have to,” I said. “I bet you would have done the same for me.”

  “Probably not,” she admitted, never shying away from candor.

  “Well, that’s okay too. But I do want to get out of here at some point, so maybe some civility will be the first step to making that happen.” I was seated on my bed. The curtains were open and I leaned my head back against the glass.

  “I want to get out of here just as badly as you do. It’s just… hard.”

  “Why the hell do you hate me so much? I seriously don’t know what I did to you. I can understand some people don’t mesh—and I can see that with us—but the open hostility has to come from somewhere.”

  “You seriously don’t know?” Mallory gave a wry laugh like she didn’t believe me, as if what she was going to reveal was common knowledge.

  “I seriously don’t,” I challenged, hoping she could feel the glare I was giving.

  The silence stretched out for at least a minute, and when it seemed she was choosing her words for a response, the door opened. Nurse Dalio entered with two tall and handsome men in gray pinstriped suits. They had very similar features, seemingly no hair on their entire bodies, and reddish eyes. I would have gotten gooseflesh at the mere sight of them on the street—but in here, they scared me t
o death.

  “These are the Pissarro brothers,” Nurse Dalio said, her face beaming as always. “I know you’ll show them a good time.”

  “I thought we weren’t supposed to have any outsiders,” Mallory protested, sitting up and backing against the wall.

  “It just so happens they are very special guests who have quite particular tastes. That would be you, my dear,” she said, looking straight at me. “We all have to make compromises and sacrifices.”

  I felt my heart stop, a part of me hoping I would die before these monsters could sink their claws into me.

  “Please…” I pleaded. “There must be something I can do.”

  “There is,” Nurse Dalio said. “You can satisfy them, which is why you’re here.” And with that she closed the door, locking us in the room with the Pissarro brothers.

  “What a beautiful scar you have,” one of them said, his sick eyes fixated on my face. “It’s like a bolt of lightning streaking across a bright sky.”

  “No; it’s like a great tree, extending its roots into the soil,” the other said.

  “I would love to see your other scars. Show them to us,” the first one crooned, removing his suit coat, his tie, then unbuttoning his shirt.

  The other man removed his shoes and socks, then his suit coat and tie as well.

  I glanced to Mallory in full panic—unable to move; unable to speak. My heart had gone from a dead stop to ready to explode.

  Within seconds, they were sitting on either side of me, one examining my arms, the other caressing my feet, then moving up my calves. The man moving up my arm pulled up the shirt sleeve, finding my shoulder scar, then ripped my shirt open to get a clear view.

  “This one’s almost as lovely as the one on your cheek,” he said, pressing his lips to my skin. Then the tips of his fangs moved down my shoulder, tearing at my flesh.

  I screamed out in pain and felt blood trickling down my arm. He grabbed me by the neck to hold me steady, then licked at the blood as it continued to flow.