The Creeper Dance, Reaper #1

by Darcy Lennox

  And then my smirk stiffened. I was being watched, I could feel their eyes in the distance, always close but never close enough for me to catch them. It started a few months ago when rumours of the vampires surfaced. People talked, and I did not like what I was hearing but rumours were just that, rumours. However, the correlation was too close, I had my suspicions. I did attempt to catch the culprit once; however, they were gone before I could get too close which lead me to believe that they were not there to kill me – they were observing, learning. Whoever it was, remained silent of my identity or so I hoped. Agitated, I stubbed the cigarette out on the balcony railing and peered out into the darkness. I did not like being watched, and yet whoever this shadow was – they had made no effort to provoke me, or at the very least introduce themselves… unless, no – it cannot be, but what if it is? No, I shook the thought out of my head and locked it within a steel cage.

  I recalled a time when there could have been true peace with us and the humans and not this civilised agreement of tolerance. This was just before the vampire’s coup of the Stallah officials, we were beginning to make progress – real progress. They were in the midst of selecting an official date for The Festival of a Second Awakening. It was set to represent a unification of us and them as the humans began to accept that the world was not as simple as they had imagined. But the Daggertooth had other ideas, and so The Organisation have kept their distance since only communicating on matters that involve the entire world. Their uninviting nature to the humans evoked a negative reputation further dividing our species from one another. This has been their intention from the beginning but why? Divide and conquer is a strategy used only by those who want to spread fear, for what? Not that it matters all too much to me, my dhamujki ethnicity means I belong to no species as I am the only one of my kind.

  Feeling the chill pick up, I paced back indoors and abruptly stopped when I caught myself in the mirror. It was much worse than I imagined. Straight black hair fell around my face and engulfed me into the shadows of the dimly lit room. With only a few hours of sleep this week, I looked like death herself – tonight would be my last reaping and then I would force myself into the soil to rest. Having spent so much time preoccupied with other matters such as planning, hunting and tracking that I was losing count of the days. Without a moment to hesitate I flung my jacket around myself and secured Deathclaw onto my back, she was my shield and I was her navigator.

  Ts. Ts. Ts. Beep! A small metal box rattled and then a large projection of white noise appeared over the sleek coffee table. It was simply called a newsbox – a Stallite device introduced to the human world to make the delivery of news more effective due to the highly saturated advertising content on global television stations. The hologram of white noise cleared to depict two lifeless pale blue eyes to signify that The Needles were going live. A thin and gaunt looking man as ordinary as can be appeared on the screen, I recognised him as Commander Seven and instantly deflected his message as background noise. I had more important matters to attend to this evening.

  Instead, I went straight for the kitchen counter and picked up the newspaper I had been reading earlier where several pieces of information I had attached with a paperclip fell out from its fold. The front page of the newspaper was taken up by a man’s face. His name was Terrance Gambon, a vampire, who had been cited in London two days prior. He was wanted for the murder of a seven-year-old girl last week in Queens Park. Feeding from children is a serious offence that is punishable by the stake, the Organisation made sure that such regulations where set in stone and the Daggertooth were quick to agree anxious not to upset the humans.

  But the rules never mentioned anything about me… I see it as a way of righting a wrong. If the system cannot carry it out accordingly then I will.

  Chapter Three

  Tonight, the streets were filled with blood, the veins under my luminous skin turned black and pulsed at the smell of it. It did not take me long to reach Queens Park. All tower blocks were installed with a floor beneath the ground which served as a connection to the accelorway, an underground motorway. When the elevator doors split open under my tower block, flashes of lights rocketed across the glass screen on the other side of the room. Cars, hundreds of them travelling faster than human eyes could follow. An entire system of tiered tunnels replicated from the design of the Concillium hall, the architect was Ilythian of course. They called it The Heart because everything was connected this way, I could get to Sydney in just three hours if I wanted to. I pointed to my destination on a large interactive map that appeared on the screen. A second later, a sleek black car appeared and when the glass screen evaporated the sound of hundreds of storming cars within the tunnel echoed as my hair blew wildly from the velocity. As soon as I got into the car, the sound drowned out. There was no need to drive, everything was electronic and when I buckled myself in we joined the bustling explosion of cars on the accelorway. Exactly three minutes and twenty seconds later, just as the monitor had predicted, my car pulled up to a side path away from the blur of tunnels until I was standing on the other side of another glass screen door secured by three white walls.

  ‘Queens Park,’ an electronic voice said from the speaker and the ground shook as the ceiling opened.

  I tugged at the lapels of my duster jacket and secured my sunglasses over my eyes when I was fully out from under the ground, the floor was sucked in as soon as I stepped off and the ceiling became pavement once more. I could not help but notice a sign that read: Lycan Doormen Wanted hanging outside the window of a busy bar. The humans and the lycans got on well with one another, more so than the vampires for obvious reasons.

  And then all too quickly, my joints locked. A strong whiff of vampire electrocuted the nerves inside my nostrils. It must be him. I tracked him down four days ago where I saw him lurking by the same bar, looking for his next victim no doubt and made a note of imprinting his scent. I rushed into a dark alleyway and with a small push I hopped from the sides of each wall like a ping pong ball silently until I was on top of the roof of the bar. The music indoors thumped so hard the buckles of my boots vibrated to every beat. And then the doors were thrown open where two bodies clunked to the ground in a heap like bin bags filled with rocks.

  ‘And don’t come back!’ the lycan security guard barked. ‘You’re barred!’

  Drunken fools. Gambone and his companion stumbled to their feet where they kicked the door in frustration. I peered over the edge of the roof where I could see them from a bird’s eye view, I liked seeing my victim from this angle – it made the kill easier, faster. But tonight, he will have wish that he had never touched the child, I would make sure of that.

  I watched them closely, following their every step just behind effortlessly jumping from brick roof to roof until they disappeared behind a wall that was shadowed with a metal roof. They must have heard me coming, not that I was trying to be quiet – he would be dead in a few short moments anyway.

  I bounced once more from the roof where the wind followed me down and snuck along the road next to the sheltered alleyway on the opposite end until I was resting my cheek on the brick of the wall. I heard him shifting on his feet, waiting. This time I smirked and carefully pulled Deathclaw from under my jacket. I held my breath and silently charged using the handle to hit his companion square in the face until he was unconscious – I would decide his fate afterwards. Gambone, having noticed the commotion flew directly on top of me, put his hands around my neck and hissed threateningly the way all vampires do.

  I swung the handle at his face and punched him with it, but it caused little affect. Once more, I made to hit him, but he grabbed my wrist and slammed it to the ground, losing my grip of the dagger. He was stronger than his skeletal figure depicted.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ he hissed with his fangs on full display. ‘Had I known I would be getting a visit from the famous Reaper I would have dressed for the occasion!’

  Arrogance fierce in his eyes, he would soon learn what a mis
take he made. Softly, I fluttered my eyes until I had him in my trance. When his grip loosened, I kicked him off with my knees where his face met the pavement. Surprised by my strength, and how he had come to meet the ground with his face so suddenly, I seized the opportunity to slam my boot into his stomach. He choked and spat, heaving like a weasel gasping for air.

  ‘You bitch!’ he shrieked.

  ‘Not quite,’ I said and kicked him again, but this time a little harder.

  He barked and coughed out a chunk of blood that made my core ache wildly. I needed to end him now or else I would go berserk from the smell. Using my foot for direction, I pinned him down to the floor with his hands under my boots.

  ‘Her name was Daniella Stephens, and you killed her,’ I spat as my eyes grew wilder by the second.

  Gambone began to shake, but it was coming from within his stomach instead of his shoulders. He was laughing, louder and louder like a ringing in my ear. I looked at him with pure hatred, no remorse in his eyes, just hunger. That was the problem with fucking vampires, hunger always won over rational, they could not be trusted.

  ‘What the hell are you talking about?’ he choked mid cackle.

  These bloodsuckers always played the same old game, never wanted to admit they killed unless caught in the act.

  ‘You are sick,’ I said and yanked his arm into the air where I could snap it in two. He screamed out in pain as he watched it hang loose above him. I needed more, more. While grabbing his other arm, he began to fidget like a baby chick before slaughter.

  ‘No, please!’ he cried.

  Too late, like a twig I snapped his other arm in half and positioned Deathclaw over his heart. He wailed louder than the last time, the noise was excruciating – what was it with vampires when faced with the prospect of death? Where they not tired of living the same life every single day? I smashed the bottom of my boot into his nose to shut him up. He hissed when the back of his skull cracked into the ground and bounced up again. Numb by the pain, he lay idle on the floor, no longer laughing.

  ‘Go on, do it,’ he whispered, just barely.

  He was trying to provoke me, and it worked. Death by my katana was too good for him. Instead, I hovered down to the ground by his face and yanked his head back to expose his neck, I felt his muscles tighten underneath me.

  ‘The rumours were – were – t – true?’ he said shocked by the revelation of my fangs. ‘You’re a vampire? Hunt – hunting other vampires?!’

  ‘I am so much more,’ I growled and dug my sharp fangs into his skin.

  He squirmed underneath my legs, I had to clamp his mouth shut with my hand to stop him from making too much noise.

  The blood trickled down my neck like wine, that is what it always felt like with these fucking vampires, not that I minded, I got drunk off the sensation. My senses went berserk with the intake of blood spilling into my system. I could feel the colour sharpen my eyes the more I drank, I never quite got enough of vampire blood – it was intoxicating – an addiction that could never be cured.

  What felt like hours, was moments when his body started to give way from the loss of blood until his limbs went entirely limp. He was nearly dead, so I loosened my hand around his mouth and put it behind his neck for a better grip to suck every remnant of blood from his body.

  But then, the wind picked up behind me – an unwanted eye witness. A hand pulled me back by the waist and threw me to the wall. I hissed out of habit and got on all fours territorially. Now I was fucking angry, and my dinner was getting cold.

  The figure before me pulled out a gun from under his coat and pointed it directly to my head. If I moved, I knew he would shoot, his finger positioned at the ready to pull like a natural reflex.

  ‘Reaper,’ he said in a heavy voice which did well to match his sturdy frame. ‘Don’t fucking move.’

  I retracted my fangs and swayed away slowly, he knew who I was? Now, I was intrigued. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘You,’ he said and came out from the shadows to reveal an angular face crafted from prominent bones and dark eyes which seemed to have no end. I had seen that face before, Akilis.

  I stayed put as our eyes spoke to each other. Familiarity and anxiety mixed in a cocktail of sudden movements, too slow and the game was over. I pushed the gun away from my face and pounced on him so that his back hit the floor. He, however, made no effort to fight back and instead continued to look at me curiously while I pinned him down effortlessly.

  ‘You’re alive?’ he said as if he were confirming the question to himself more so than asking. He learned forward for a better look, he knew what my eyes were capable of and yet he was not afraid, it was a test.

  ‘What do you want?’ I thumped his chest with my hand to get him back to attention.

  He did not take kindly to this and grabbed my wrists to pull me towards him. I fought back as hard as I could but it was impossible, Akilis was not just any vampire after all.

  ‘What do you want from me?’ I said, slowly, as I did well to look at every twitch of his face and blink of his eye. It had been years since I had last seen him.

  In a split second, something changed by the way that he held is eyes – no longer as eager, just blank. He let go of my wrists and simply watched me get up as he lay still. We looked at each other for a fleeting moment, and when I realised he was letting me go with the intention of finding me again, I ran as fast as I could. I knew he would take care of their bodies, but how long would it be until he found mine?

  For the first time in a long time, I was unprepared for the future. I had my suspicions of course, had he been the eyes within the shadows watching my every move? Perhaps, but something told me it was not him.

  Chapter Four

  I woke up in a pool of my own sweat questioning if last night really happened. I ran to the mirror in the bathroom and there, I saw two yellow orbs staring back at me for confirmation. Of course it fucking happened! I could still feel his rotten blood pumping through my body, his blood. And still I felt uneasy… Akilis.

  Needing fresh air, I made my way to the balcony and welcomed the morning sun in all its glory. Unlike vampires, I was able to walk out into the sun and feel the beams stroke my skin without it burning my flesh. But the moment was short lived because once it dawned on me that I would need to move, and fast, memories from my past caught up with the race of last night. Although the sun may keep him at bay for the time being, come nightfall I know he would be looking for me. He found me last night and he will find me again.

  I always travelled light, with just a backpack to my name – it had everything I ever needed in there and a pair of sunglasses to shield my eyes. I never understood why people got so possessive over things, they are just objects and then you die, and they become somebody else’s objects if they have not already been recycled. The longer you live the less you care of such things. Besides, materialism was a weakness. I learned that very quickly from the humans and the thought of being weak made me nauseous.

  With a heavy pull, the door slammed shut behind me and I left Islington, North London. Just like last night, I used the accelorway on the underground floor only to arrive in Stratford, East London, six minutes later. I sought out a smaller apartment just near the new shopping centre they were renovating at a much larger scale, enough to feed the ever-increasing obesity. But also close enough to a densely populated area should I need to disappear into the crowd.

  A few children, no more than maybe eleven or twelve in tattered clothes and ripped shoes were playing with a ball near the entrance of my new apartment. The smallest of the lot snatched a poster off the wall curiously. The colours of black, white and red were bold and striking, in fact it was the only poster on the wall with colour which was rare. The poster read in white:

  THE MIKANYK IS AT WORK

  Underneath the title were a pair of splattered black eyes that faded into the red background. The boy pocked holes through the eyes with his fingers and held it up to his face to scare his friends. Th
eir laughter was infectious, even I could not help but smirk at the spectacle.

  ‘What is that?’ I said intrigued.

  The boys stopped in their tracks and arched their heads back to meet the reflection of my sunglasses. They were stunned by the sudden interaction and I felt myself take a step back involuntarily. The second I moved my hand they ran as far as the wind could take them and the poster made a full circle in the air only to land in my palm where the boy once stood. Taking the poster with both of my hands, I tugged at the corners to flatten the crinkles out. What I saw made the bottom of my stomach hollow and my shoulders tighten up all too quickly. The eyes on the poster were whole with no signs of tear. I looked around my feet and, on the wall, cautiously to make sure this was the poster I had seen in the boy’s hand only a moment earlier. There was no other poster like it, it would be easy to pick out due to the colours and yet the only colour that was visible was on the paper in between my hands. In a hurry, I scrunched up the poster and threw it in the portable grazer stationed near the side of the street where I watched it shred the poster to pieces. I turned my back and marched into the building, but before I could truly walk away, I turned around once more and stopped to take a second look. Cool silence.