“What did they look like? You fool!”
“Ohh gothic, they definitely had a gothic vibe.”
The Black Bishop slapped his forehead and then sighed.
This man is an imbecile.
“Did they all look the same?”
“Yes, sir! Well, except the one we saw in the church.”
“Which church? What did that demon look like?”
“We saw it at the Berkville Trinity Church. It was kind of weird really,” Agent Ochre said.
“How so?”
“We went to the church as it was the last place the first demon …” The Black Bishop heard a rustling of paper when the agent paused. “Dora Carridine is the name she goes by. Anyway, the church was where she lived as a child. Her father is the reverend there, so we dropped by on the off-chance she’d tried to hide there.”
The Black Bishop shook his head.
What kind of idiot would try to find devil spawn inside a church?
“She wasn’t there.” Agent Ochre continued.
Big surprise.
The Black Bishop sighed at how stupid his minions were. PISS were the worst. The Pope’s Intelligence Service Subdivision, what a joke. He knew vegetables with more intelligence.
“But we saw this guy with wings there and determined that it was a different demon. Unfortunately, even when we shot at it, it got away.”
A guy with wings?
“What did it look like?” He felt a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“Well, the guy was quite young and—Hey Agent Orange, did you think that guy with the wings was attractive?” Agent Ochre shouted down the phone.
The Black Bishop held the phone away from his ear and scowled at it.
“No, you can’t go meet Daisey Mae for pie in the diner, fucking idiot! Just answer the question.”
There was a muffled agreement in the background before Agent Ochre spoke again.
“Sorry about that, sir. I can confirm that he was a young, attractive man with big white wings. He also was glowing. We checked for radiation, but have yet to decipher the cause of the glow.”
“So,” the Black Bishop said in a slow and calm voice. “What you are trying to tell me is that while you were inside a church, you saw an attractive man with white wings, who emitted a glow—is it fair to call it a holy glow?”
“Yes, sir. I’d call it a holy glow.” Agent Ochre agreed.
“Okay.” The Black Bishop continued, and his voice rose in volume. “So upon seeing what the average person may consider to be an angel inside a church, you, in your infinite wisdom, felt the best course of action was to shoot at it?”
“I-I—er …” Agent Ochre stammered down the phone.
“You fucking idiot! You shot at an angel of the Lord!”
“W-well he didn’t identify himself …” Agent Ochre trailed off.
“They don’t carry photo ID with them, you bloody moron!” The Black Bishop slammed his fist into his desk.
“I’m sorry. We’ll go find him an—”
“You’ll do no such thing!” the Black Bishop said as an idea crossed his mind. “I want surveillance only on this. Look but don’t touch.”
“B-but why? Shouldn’t we try to speak to it?”
“You won’t do anything. You’ve already proven you’re incompetent. No, I want surveillance reports only. There is only one person capable of dealing with this.”
“Who?”
“Me,” he said. “Make arrangements for my arrival. I’m coming to Berkville.” He smiled at his reflection in the polished desk.
I’ll be the new Black Pope before the end of the week if I kill some demons and discover an angel.
Dora stood outside the tall, iron gates of the vampire’s nest. She stared at the sombre exterior of the gloomy mansion house and shook her head.
They might as well put up a sign outside it saying, ‘Vampire’s Nest Here’.
The dark gothic building loomed high in the sky, standing out in startling contrast to the cosy suburban houses surrounding it, which all had perfect lawns and warm and inviting façades. It looked as if it belonged in a horror movie.
“Morning!” A cheerful voice called out behind her. She spun around to see a man in an argyle sweater across the street, picking up his newspaper off his driveway.
“Hi,” she said to the smiling man.
“Just moved in?” He nodded at the haunting mansion.
“Thinking about it,” she said while she plastered a pleasant smile on her face and wondered what the neighbours thought about the vampire nest.
“They’re a lovely bunch.” The man encouraged. “At first I was worried. You know, rock stars like that moving in, but they’ve been a real addition to the neighbourhood. They joined the neighbourhood watch and helped out at the local school bake sale.”
She nodded still smiling.
Vampires at a bake sale. That could only happen in the fucking burbs.
“Well, nice to meet you.” The man smiled again and then turned to walk back to his house while swinging his paper in time to his jaunty whistle.
She turned back to the mansion and shrugged as she rang the doorbell. She peered up at the six-foot gates and waited. After a few moments, an electronic voice burred out of the intercom to her left.
“State your purpose.”
“Um, what?” she said to the box.
“State your purpose.” The intercom repeated in an electronic voice.
She stared at the box. “Do you mean my purpose for visiting here?”
“Meeble-zip.” The intercom buzzed.
“What?” She shouted at it.
“Mmmnnzzzz-state your purpose. Presszzzz the fricken button. No mimezzz here.” The intercom screeched.
She scowled at the intercom. There were no buttons on it, just a speaker. “There’s no fucking button to press!” She pointed at it while getting frustrated by the stupid thing.
“No mimezzz allowed. Pleazzze go away, buzz.” The machine blared.
“I’m not a mime! Just open the fucking gates,” she snapped.
“Please state your purposezz-zip.” The intercom repeated.
“I’m here to kill you,” she said as she glanced up to the top of the fence, contemplating breaking in instead.
She spotted a CCTV camera mounted at the top of the stone gatepost, which was pointing down at her.
“Pleazzzzzzzzzzzzzzzze prezzzzzzzzz the buttonzzzzzzzz. No mimezzzzz here,” the intercom replied.
She scowled and flipped off the CCTV camera.
“Welcome to the Devereaux House,” the intercom said in a crisp voice.
There was a loud creak as the iron gates opened. She stormed through the gates, intent on murdering the person behind the intercom. “Thank you and have a nice day. Meeble-zip.” She heard the intercom behind her as she rushed up the driveway.
She stomped her way up the long hill that led to the entrance of the house, and her cheeks burned with anger. Whoever had been fucking with her over the intercom was going to get a gigantic slap.
She burst through the front doors and frowned. The hallway was deserted, as was every room she passed.
Okay, it was daytime now, but last time she was here every room had been milling with glittery vampires. Hell, they’d had a pool party and a barbecue.
She shook her head. All that mattered was finding the person on the intercom and slapping the meeble-zip right out of them.
She headed for the main hall, expecting to find a few sniggering vampires hanging around the intercom, but it too was deserted.
Where the hell is everyone?
Something felt very wrong.
Terrance!
She raced down the wood-panelled halls to the sweeping staircase that led up to his rooms. She paused at the foot of the stairs when she heard chanting.
She stood still for a moment and listened. It was coming from a door beneath the staircase.
She noticed the door was ajar, and there w
as a faint light emitting through the gap. She peered through the gap and gasped.
Inside the room were hundreds of vampires seated in dark wooden pews that surrounded a circular stage. The vampires all wore blood-red robes and were chanting.
The Ancient One stood on the stage, leading the chant. He wore a black robe and held a golden staff in his left hand.
He banged the staff onto the stage, and the chanting ceased.
“My fellow rulers of the dark, the time of prophecy is upon us. Now, we shall wreak our vengeance upon those who wish to harm us. Now, we shall shower in the blood of our enemies!”
The crowds of vampires cheered loudly, some standing and applauding.
“But to do this, my immortal allies …” He continued as the cheering abated. “We must embrace our enemy.”
Some vampires booed while others unenthusiastically clapped.
“And so it is written,” The Ancient One roared. “The Saviour shall smite our enemy with the power of his blood, and we shall rule over all until his last drop. Only his blood can convert them to our clan.” The Ancient One held up a vial of blood and stepped aside to reveal a werewolf chained to a table.
Dora frowned.
What the fuck are they doing?
The Ancient One forced open the growling wolf’s mouth and poured the vial of blood into it. The wolf howled as his body began to convulse.
The vampires in the crowds all gasped in awe as wolf fur fell off its body. Its snout shrank, and its eyes glowed red.
The howling became a scream as its body jolted and shuddered, and it transformed into the body of a pale man.
The Ancient One unfastened the chains around the man and handed him a robe. “Welcome to our clan.” He smiled at the man.
“I’m hungry.” The man’s vampire fangs popped out.
The crowds applauded in a standing ovation.
“But how many can the Saviour create?” Someone shouted over the din.
“At least a few thousand until we’ve bled him dry.” The Ancient One stroked his beard as a crazy glint appeared in his eyes.
Dora felt a shiver of fear.
Terrance, they mean to bleed him dry!
She turned and raced up the stairs to his room, worry knotting in her stomach.
I need to get him out of here, right now!
She burst into Terrance’s room to find him lying on a plush bed. He had cucumber slices over his eyes and cotton wool balls between his toes, which were wiggling in time to the lame music that was playing from an old record player.
“Terrance, what the fuck are you doing?” she cried.
“What?” He jolted off the bed, and the cucumber slices splatted onto the marble floor.
“Oh Dora, my lov–er, companion,” he said with a smile. “Isn’t this new world wonderful?”
“No, it sucks ass. Come on. We need to get out of here.”
“But why? I just had my first spa day. A spa! It’s wonderful. You must try it.”
She grabbed his arm and tried to pull him out of the room. “We don’t have time for this shit. They’re coming for you!”
“Coming for me, who? Not the angry townsfolk again?” He hobbled after her while trying to pluck the cotton wool out from between his toes.
“No, it’s worse. This time it’s the vampires,” she said.
“Don’t be silly. I am their Saviour. They’d never hurt me.”
“Did they take some of your blood?” she asked.
“I had a blood test.” He nodded. “But that’s normal isn’t it?”
“It wasn’t a blood test. They plan to bleed you dry!”
He pulled back and smiled at her while shaking his head. “Silly Dora, you’d need more than one vial to bleed a vampire dry.”
“Terrance, I swear, if you don’t move your ass right now, I am going to slap you.”
“Oh, how kinky. Okay, I’ll try that.” He winked.
She growled and raised her hand to slap him for real, but vampires burst into the room behind her, surrounding them both.
An iron grip clamped around her wrists and tugged her arms behind her back.
“What are you doing?” Terrance cried. “Release my Dora!”
“I’m sorry it had to come to this,” the Ancient One said.
“Come to what?” Terrance asked.
A doe-eyed female vampire patted Terrance on the shoulder. He turned around, and she injected something into his neck. He swooned and fell unconscious into the girl’s arms.
“Your imprisonment,” the Ancient One said.
“What did you do to him?” Dora cried while struggling against the hands holding her wrists and shoulders.
“Shall I do her too?” the doe-eyed vampire asked.
“No, she won’t be any trouble.” The Ancient One shook his head. “She’s just a pathetic human. Put them in the dungeons.”
Dora scowled at him as she was led out of the room. Behind her, she heard the doe-eyed vampire say, “Meeble-zip,” before laughing.
Carissa came to an abrupt halt on the busy high street, and Kieron paused beside her.
“What?” he asked.
“I think we’re being followed,” she said, glancing at their reflection in a store window.
“Don’t be ridiculous. There are hundreds of people here.” He scanned the busy shopping area and only saw masses of humans spending their hard-earned money on bits of crap that they didn’t need.
He was about to turn around when she stopped him. “Don’t! I don’t want them to know we’ve spotted them,” she hissed.
“Who?” He scanned the reflection in the glass too. He saw humans of all shapes and sizes bustling down the busy street behind them.
“Everyone is following us because of the direction of the street,” he said, watching an old lady shuffle out of a store, which sold slot machines judging by the window display.
Why would an old lady want to buy a slot machine? He wondered as she turned in their direction and headed towards them.
“Pension thieving bastards,” she muttered as she walked by.
“You see the two men in dark suits standing beside the trash cans?” Carissa interrupted his thoughts.
He spotted them straight away because unlike everyone else, they weren’t moving. They were standing to attention beside each other, staring directly at him and Carissa.
“Okay, they are acting a bit strange,” he admitted.
“Come on.” She grabbed his arm. “Let’s see if they continue following us.”
He nodded as he and Carissa made their way down the bustling shopping street, keeping their eyes on the reflections of the men in the shop windows.
His heart beat faster when he noticed the men were following them. The suited strangers kept a steady pace behind them.
“Shit, we need to lose them,” she said. “They can’t come into the Demon District with us.”
“We could try making a run for it.”
“No, it won’t work. I tried that earlier when I raced you across the street.”
His pulse raced. He knew he couldn’t take to the air in these crowds, and so far, his powers on Earth were lacking in anything other than the ability to fly.
“Buy a shirt, you cheap bastard!” A vendor from a market stall shouted out to him.
Kieron glanced at the stall owner who was waving his wares at him. It wasn’t the best marketing pitch he’d ever heard. It wasn’t the worst one either.
He glanced down at his naked chest and realised he was defenceless in many ways. Along with not owning a shirt, he also didn’t know if his spells would work here.
He turned to Carissa as the people around them seemed to close in on him, and panic bubbled in his throat. “What are we going to do?”
She grinned at the market stall vendor. “That just gave me a great idea. When I say freeze, I want you to stand completely still. No matter what, don’t move, okay?”
He frowned. It sounded like the stupidest idea ever, but he nodde
d. “Okay.”
They walked past large window of a store called J. C. Penney. In the window was an array of models in a various poses. The window stretched from floor to ceiling and seemed to go on forever.
He watched the men’s reflections in the glass when a bus drove by, blocking his view.
Carissa slammed him sideways against the window, so he was facing her.
“Freeze,” she hissed while placing her finger on her chin in a thoughtful pose and freezing in position.
He froze in position with a frown on his face. He could see the men across the street. They were rushing by in a panic and shouting at each other.
He couldn’t hear their comments, but they appeared to be bickering when one slapped the other one across the face.
He watched in awe as they ran straight past him and Carissa and past a crossroads into the next section of the shopping area.
“Okay, you can move now,” Carissa said.
“Were those the stupidest spies ever or something?” he asked.
“I’ve actually seen worse, but they were pretty close. Come on. Let’s lose them before they come back. We’re nearly there!”
He peeled himself off the store window and ran after her as she led him down a side street.
“What is the Demon District anyway?”
“You’ll see.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him, leading him into a dark alley.
The walls were slimy with moss, and drainpipes continually dripped water down the cracked bricks. The alley was a narrow space between two tall buildings that was confined and dimly lit.
He followed her, carefully trying not to touch the walls with his bare arms.
I really should have bought a shirt.
There was a red glow at the end of the alley. It reminded him of Hell for a moment. He could almost smell the burnt air of his abandoned home.
He sighed. He hadn’t signed up for this. When he left Hell, it was to be with Dora, not to be trapped on Earth on an endless quest to find her. The longer he was apart from her, the more he worried he would never find her.
And then what? Will I get an Ikea-furnished condo and a job in marketing just so I can kiss Satan’s ball-sack every morning?
He shivered. He couldn’t think of a worse fate.
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