by Al K. Line
It crept up past the scene of my butchery and took over my original ink, weaving new routes and shifting slightly the patterns made so long ago, realigning them, making them utter perfection. Up my stomach, over my chest, crawling over my shoulders and down my arms, it all came together in a way it's hard to describe.
Looking at my body was like when I found myself standing in the garden admiring the simplicity and pure beauty. That's what my ink was now—magical perfection.
This was the gift from Reade, the new power I had inside of me now unleashed, or at least there ready for the calling in dire times. Maybe it had always been there, locked away, and I simply never understood, but I was reborn, from fire and earth and terror. I was the ash man.
Then I understood.
The ash of burned wood and fire and my skin, the three elements had combined, making me something different. When I'd smothered the ash all over myself, the magic had transmuted it and forced the pigments deep into my body, mixing with my magic and my tattoos, giving me new markings to make me more than whole.
Was it only possible because of where I was, the ancient mystery and magic that permeated every aspect of life in Japan? Or was it that because the need arose it delivered? I think it was all of this and more, but that's the point of magic, you can never know it no matter how hard you try.
My skin was as good as new although my legs looked like I'd had a very expensive wax job. With zero hair, and still red from the regeneration, they were way too reminiscent of Intus' baldy bonce.
She'd really helped me out this time, and no mistake. Chopping off tails, calling a taxi, if it hadn't been for her I would have been back in Kimiko's clutches by now, I was certain.
I went back to bed, and I slept for two more days.
*
I awoke with a start, sure something was terribly wrong. But I was alone and the night was still. Through the open window a gentle breeze blew muslin curtains, sweet smells of perfumed air tickling my nostrils and promising to lull me back to my dreams. Cicadas sang noisily, a sound now so familiar I wondered if I would ever sleep without it.
What was the problem, then?
Unfinished business, that's what. My body was my own, my mind had sorted through the terrors and finally allowed me to think coherently, and I had work to do. I also had eating to do. I had not touched a thing for seven days apart from water from the bathroom tap, the owner of the small hotel—more a large house on two floors with a few rooms for rent than anything else—had left me alone and had probably forgotten I was even residing in her home.
No way could I rest. I was wide awake and knew my time in the room had come to an end. Food beckoned, and I wasn't talking tofu or noodles. I needed steak, preferably just a cow run past a barbecue and landing on my plate, maybe grabbing some French fries as it came.
Dressed snappy, hair given another talking to, winklepickers laced, tie straightened, I headed out the door.
Steak, with a soft drink—I was off the booze—then murder.
I was a man with a plan.
And legs that refused to work properly, so instead of swaggering I was more like a penguin with emotional issues, but picture me looking handsome, well-dressed, and bit of a cocky sod. It was how I felt inside, along with a good dose of apprehension—I'd certainly never eat pork rind again, that was for sure.
All Through the Night
Tokyo doesn't rest for the night, it just goes from crazy to only slightly crazy. It's the perpetual city, never sleeping, always alive with light and laughter, the smell of exotic and not so exotic food. Full of color, drab salarymen unable to sleep due to stress, exotic stores and those that specialize in only a single item.
I went to a steakhouse, and I went large. After a few false starts, I ordered two Kobe beef steaks that cost a fortune and were to die for. I ate three portions of fries, a bowl of steamed mushrooms, a side of green beans, and washed it all down with sparkling water. I think along with a giant's magic I had his appetite, too, as I could have sat there all night if the staff hadn't begun to act weird, shaking their heads as they headed in my direction once again, not sure if they'd already served the forgettable gaijin or not.
When the bill arrived I felt awful. I'd been charged only for my first order, the rest forgotten, so I left a tip large enough to cover it all and then some. It's only money, right?
Knowing I couldn't face more lies and excuses, I sent text messages to everyone back home, promising I would be back in two days tops. I gave myself a deadline, mainly because I knew I would either succeed or fail in the next day. I had to stop myself from sounding morbid—final farewells were at the fore of my thoughts—but this wasn't the time for pessimism, it was the time for action.
The night passed me by as I wandered the streets, amazed at the density of the crowds whatever the time. Didn't anyone ever go home? I'd had my fill of sleep, seven days of utter rest, and although I knew it was nowhere near enough after what I'd been through it would have to suffice. But oh, what I wouldn't have given to be at home, snuggled up to Kate, warm and loved and safe.
I could picture her now, putting out milk for the hobs, locking up our house for the night, wandering about in the kitchen, probably feeling guilty for eating chocolate biscuits or ice-cream when she always said she'd save it for weekends.
Actually, what day was it? Like it mattered. Only one thing mattered and she was somewhere in the city, alive and very dangerous. Kimiko was an old vampire and I knew she was pretty much at the mercy of the sun. Only one ancient vampire I had ever met was able to be out and about in the day and that was the new Head back home. It was unusual, unheard of, and I knew that would present its own problems if I ever made it back.
But for now I had an advantage. As the day began she would need to rest, and that would be my best bet for dealing with her, wherever she was. For all her obvious intelligence, I was surprised that my phone had been overlooked. They'd left the maps on, presumably not even checking it, just disabling it, but I guess for the likes of her the modern age has come about rather unexpectedly and in a bit of a mad rush, a hiccup during a long life.
It meant I had the location of her two final usual haunts, and I would visit one after the other today if that was what it took, but hoping she would be at the first property. All this damn five elements stuff was stuck in my head now, and I didn't like it. I'm not a superstitious guy, but now it was in my mind I couldn't shake the feeling I was simply following a set pattern laid out for me by the very essence of the culture—if you want to play then it's by our ancient and unknowable rules.
So be it.
As the dawn came and the city transitioned from busy to insane, I drank coffee and watched the people go about their business. Traffic increased until the air was thick with fumes and the streets were crowded, and then I heaved off my chair and went to kill me a vampire.
Shiny, Shiny
I was in the most expensive part of the city, where property made central London look like a steal and only those with money to burn could even consider having an apartment. The majority would be part-time residences at the most, some used just a few days a year by rich businessmen and women making flying stops to grind another poor sap into the ground.
Swanky was the word for Kimiko's building, and I was impressed. Often, money equals gaudy and tacky, people splashing out on homes and decor that scream money but with no actual style or subtlety. That was not the case here at all. This was an exquisitely designed building with every possible care taken to make it beautiful, no expense spared, but in an understated and stylish manner.
Even the lobby had a simple elegance you would be hard pressed to replicate whatever the budget. Whoever the designer and architect were it was clear it was their vision come to life, and everywhere I looked was perfection. Even the damn door handles looked like works of art.
It was quiet in the lobby, no hustle and bustle of regular folk leaving for work, just as I'd expected. These weren't the kinds of people that did the
daily commute, and I suspected most of the building would be empty, just glorified crash pads for the tycoons.
That, or... I suddenly had a very bad feeling about the place, mainly because the dude behind the reception desk, staring at me then at the bank of monitors in front of him, rippled like a heat haze had descended. The vibe he gave off was about as welcoming as if you'd turned up at a dwarf's wedding with a beard trimmer as a gift for the bride.
He was vampire for sure. He studied me closely as I approached, no man of mystery for me. He could see me as clearly as I could read his orders—kill the gaijin if he shows up.
She wasn't here, I knew it immediately. If she was, and she knew I was on the loose and looking for her, no way would her resting place be so lightly guarded in this manner. She was aware of what I'd done to those at her other places, understood I was powerful to have gotten away from the fat man, so would have her residence heavily protected.
Or, was that what she wanted me to think?
Damn, I hate indecision, and I hate not knowing. Do I leave or do I deal with the goon and go check it out?
With a sigh, knowing there was no other choice, I said, "Come on, let's get it over with."
He stared at me blankly, not understanding a word, so I stepped back and did the universal "bring it on" gesture, beckoning with my hand, calling him out.
He smiled wide, fangs already dripping milky poison, itching for a fight. Guess it was usually quiet at his post, so this was a welcome break from what was obviously a less than fulfilling role within the gangster hierarchy.
I have to admit I was also keen to fight. So much frustration and anger at what had been done to me meant I was literally ready to explode—I needed a release.
This guy didn't know what he was letting himself in for.
He smiled at me again, pressed a button on his console, and a goddamn cage slammed down on me from a hidden panel in the ceiling. I was trapped.
You know what? Sometimes I think I must have missed the day when they were handing out luck and got stuck in the "poor bastard" queue.
Especially when the side doors in the lobby opened and about a score of eager vampires sauntered out, grinning as they anticipated a taste of foreign blood.
I definitely should have gone home.
You Cannot be Serious!
This was getting ridiculous. What was with the Asian vampires? Cages! I mean, c'mon. Who the hell drops cages on people? It was like something out of a damn cartoon. If I saw a box of dynamite with Acme written on the side I wouldn't have been surprised at that moment.
Having lived a long time, I've experienced many things, but in all my years I've never had to try to get out of a cage. At least I don't think I have. The goons circled closer, seemingly in no hurry, enjoying the show and letting the tension heighten so my blood would taste all the better for waiting.
But I would give them no satisfaction. I refused to let fear overwhelm me and remained calm, even adjusted my tie.
Screw them and screw their pathetic attempts to glamor me. I gave them one of my best sneers, a real lip-curler, and faced them down. I'd fought worse, come out on top against more uneven odds, and this was not my day to die. Not yet, anyway. Most of these guys and gals were noobs, I could tell by the way they practically drooled over the thought of a taste of old Faz.
They were amateurs in the vampire world, but that didn't mean they weren't experienced fighters and gangsters. That I took for granted, or they would never be part of Kimiko's close retinue of bodyguards.
All I had to do was get out of the damn cage and I knew I could deal with them.
They closed in, and then I realized I didn't even need to get out—if I was trapped then how the hell were they going to get in to eat me?
Haha, I had them right where I wanted them. Okay, not quite, but it was better than being strapped down and skinned alive. Most things are.
The one thing about vampires that always amuses me is the utter confidence they exhibit when in numbers. It's the herd mentality and it's a serious flaw. They know they are more powerful solo than any Regular, and even up against most Hidden they have a serious advantage which they can exploit to the fullest to win a fight—the whole ability to regenerate rapidly because of their blood magic—and it multiplies to a dangerous level of confidence when they band together against an enemy.
What they forget is that they are still individuals, and they are never as guarded and careful once the hive mind overwhelms them. They're convinced the group is invincible.
So when the first one came up to the bars and gave me a look I assumed he thought was suitably terrifying, I lifted my index finger in the air and waved it around like it was made of something delightful. He smiled at me and my games, following the finger as I waggled it left to right, and then screamed as I lowered it and touched the back of his hand. His arm erupted into a mess of blood and bone as my eyes turned black and sparkled like his teeth in the strong interior light.
Magic coursed through my body as if I was overflowing, and I was. It burst through my hands almost too fast to control, the new power untamed and keening for destruction. As the first vampire fell back screaming, then snarled and snapped as his arm recovered and his body rebuilt itself, I finished him off with a flick of the finger and a great, nasty lump of intense red magic burst his body to bits as though I was throwing fireballs at him.
I repeated the action, this time with more focus, and as large balls of red death slammed into the bodies of vampires, and splatted like balloons full of deadly water, the count was quickly becoming much more to my liking.
Those still alive stepped back and reassessed the situation, realizing that trapping someone strong with magic was a rather ineffectual solution. It might be perfect for other nasties and for gangsters in general, but not for this nasty.
So they got their guns out instead and started shooting. I really do hate guns, and like a repeat of a previous encounter, they hit hard, only my shield of protection keeping me even remotely safe.
"You're mine," I shouted, my voice lost to the sound of gunfire. But they got the picture as I steadied myself then took in as much of their essence with as sharp an intake of breath as I could manage.
They faltered, feeling the blood magic leaving them, coming to me. They were having a Faz Pound special and the price would be their lives. "First one to open the door gets to live. Only the first one," I warned. Whether any of them spoke English I had no idea, I guess we would see soon enough.
As they grew increasingly confused, unable to understand what was happening, certainly never having experienced anything like it before, I sucked deep again and watched as tendrils of blood magic, corrupted and nasty, were torn from their bodies and sucked into my mouth.
The icy disdain and uncaring heart of the vampire became a part of me, numbing me to what I was doing, leaving me almost as uncaring as them. I watched without emotion as they weakened, slowly returning to Regular status, most hardly changing their apparent age as they were so new to the world. But some altered dramatically, morphing from late twenty-somethings to old men and women on their last legs, their true ages revealed without the veil of the vampire to keep them forever young.
"Last chance. If you let me out you live. Otherwise..." I slit a hand across my throat, knowing they would understand that at least.
Again I sucked down deep, but released the corruption the moment I took it. Magic sped away into the Empty where it belonged, and I was pleased to note one handsome man step forward and shakily move to the console at reception. The guy there was already gone, little but a brittle skeleton now, alive but as the younger one pushed to move him he fell to dust—he must have seriously annoyed Kimiko to have been given such a low-level job at his age.
The new security guard pushed buttons frantically, unsure what did what, until there was a faint noise from above as the ceiling slid apart and the cage was hoisted into darkness by a series of thick metal chains.
Nodding at him, promisi
ng I would keep my word, he slumped into the ash-covered chair and remained motionless, out of the fight, just hoping he would be alive at the end of it.
The rest of them were freaked out, and for good reason. With a final deep exhalation to empty my lungs, I took in their essence for all I was worth. They screamed, tried to shout, tried to come at me, but I took away their magic and I kept on taking.
Flesh wore down to little more than skin covered bone and they all stopped, unable to lift a limb or say a word. One final taking of what they had no right to and it was over. Bodies broken and dead on the floor, skeletons covered in expensive suits and once figure-hugging dresses, now gone where they deserved.
Bending over, I retched up the remains of the blood magic, glad to be purged of the foulness. Still deep in the throes of the addict, I couldn't believe it when the one I'd promised to leave alive raised a gun, hand shaking. I watched as the bullet came, moving in slow motion toward me. Out of regular time, I ducked aside and blasted the dude to hell before he'd even had chance to see if I was dead or not.
All was silent, all was still, nothing moved, not even to kill.
Time to get the elevator and see what awaited me on floor nineteen.
Old Friends
"Wait!"
I turned at the sound of a familiar voice, coming to my senses in time to stop blasting Dancer out the door.
"What're you doing here?" I was genuinely surprised, and I have to say, a little pleased. It was wonderful to see a familiar face, almost like I was a human being again.
"Thought you might be getting into a little, make that a lot, of trouble on your own, so figured you could benefit from some backup." Dancer strained his face to force a smile out.
He glanced at, then ignored, the various bodies and walked over to me, wild magic still crackling across my body like a warning sign that I was unstable. I settled down, letting it go, allowing myself to be human again.