Fangsters

by Matt Drabble

  “Look you smug prick” Ghost raged as he shoved the good doctor into the creatures range.

  Jess stood before the stage, a safe distance away from her attacker, not wishing to go another round, the rotating spotlights shone on his pale face. The extensive damage that she must have caused with the fire extinguisher, and the following attack by Eddie, was all miraculously healed. She had watched as Eddie had pounded its face over and over, it should have been obliterated. A sudden movement behind her made her spin around nervously, Eddie stood there grinning and chewing his way through a large box of popcorn, as though all of this was perfectly natural. The creature on stage looked to be unconscious, his shoulders were slumped, and his head hung low. His skin was ivory pale, and his chest did not move as he appeared not to breathe.

  She watched as Ghost produced a knife in a flash and the wicked blade glinted under the lights. She was about to cry out in favour of the doctor when Ghost made a small slash across his own wrist. She watched as the blood welled and then spilled. He held his bloody wrist out towards the creature, and the effect was instant. The things head whipped up as it caught the scent, it thrashed, and writhed violently in the chair, the chains bulged but thankfully held.

  “Look at it doc, take a good hard look at it” Ghost stepped behind the creature and pulled its head backwards exposing the fangs whilst keeping his fingers clear. “Have you ever seen dental work like this? Check his heartbeat and you’ll find that he doesn’t have one”

  The doctor moved cautiously towards the secured patient, his curiosity outweighing his fear. Jess watched as he grasped the thing's wrist and checked for a pulse. Next he warily used two fingers on the creature’s throat to check again for a pulse. He peered carefully into its mouth using a pen that he withdrew from his pocket to push apart the lips and look at its teeth. “I admit that there is something strange going on here, but Ghost, there must be a rational explanation here. A condition that whilst being extremely rare is still a human condition, perhaps a severe allergy, perhaps a…”

  The gunshot was explosive in the echoing environment, Dr Elliot cowered in fear, Jess jumped backwards in shock, and even Eddie stopped eating. Ghost held the smoking gun as the plume drifted, the bullet had entered the creature’s chest at close range. The hole was massive, and the damage catastrophic, the creature went still.

  “Wwwwhat the hell” Dr Elliot stammered his ears still ringing, “Are you insane?” he managed. “Are you…” he stopped as the still creature suddenly exploded into life again.

  “You know of an allergic condition that brings men back to life?” Ghost asked pithily.

  Jess watched as the doctor struggled to compose himself again. She recognized the shaken belief system that must be more prevalent in a doctor used to dealing with life and death, but not life after death.

  “What exactly do want from me Ghost” Elliot asked.

  “It’s simple doc” Ghost replied, “You’re going to do a little autopsy, I want to know what these things are, what can hurt them and most importantly, how I can kill them”

  Drake slept soundly, he had found that in his new life, he could still dream. His sleeping thoughts were filled of past lives, loves and battles, blood and sex. He was a sire, and as such, he was different from those below him, his people were tied to him to a certain extent, but unfortunately they did still maintain their own minds. He had to choose carefully who he turned and who he used. There was no point in completely taking over the world with his kind, as there would be no food left. He did not wish to have to fight a hundred wars as other vampires looked to form their own kingdoms.

  To begin with he had turned some key members of Jimmy’s organization. A lawyer here and a banker there, he had taken some of the key street people, but never the bosses who would have their own ambitions. He only ever took the second in commands, those who felt under appreciated. Those who had felt overlooked when the promotions rolled around. He had started slowly, wanted to ensure that his foundations were laid thickly in concrete to last the ages.

  It had been seventeen years since his dark rebirth, and he had not aged a day, or so he was told, as he could not actually see his own reflection. He had never been a particularly vain man, but he found that he did miss his face. At times he struggled to remember just what he had looked like. His body was now lean and tight, his muscles hummed especially after feeding when his strength was at its greatest. He enjoyed the enormous sense of power that flowed through his veins when his heart pumped into action. He was still learning about his abilities, even after all these years. He knew that if he did not yet know everything about his abilities, then it stood to reason that he did not yet know everything about his weaknesses.

  The trunk that had held his own sire’s secrets had long since been translated; he had taken a scholar from a nearby university and turned him. The man had been a professor in the language department specializing in the Eastern European states. It turned out that most of the text had been written in Romanian, it had seemed a logical place to start given that the vampire myths came from within the country. The books and ledgers had been a somewhat confusing mix of stories, legends and accounts, in parts a diary, and in others a textbook for the subject. It was said that centuries ago, the abilities of the vampire had been far ranging, and the legends said that shape shifting was common place. It was also said that they had an ability to mimic other humans, to flow into a mist and to run as wolves or fly as bats. But these were all stories of myth. The heart was the key, after feeding it pulsed with power, augmenting his strength and senses, but it was also their weakness, destroy the heart, and destroy the creature. Decapitation was also fatal, the ability to heal was greatly dependent on the vampire, for instance a sire could withstand far more damage than one of its children. Healing as he had found, also took a massive toll on his body requiring large intakes of fuel. The more blood in his system the quicker he healed and the more damage he could withstand. For whatever reason he could not enter a human’s property without being invited, crucifixes were useless as was anything else religious. The biggest problem that he found was sunlight, daylight weakened him, but direct sunlight was fatal. He had to be under cover during the day, and for this, he required guardians. Vicious dogs were competent for this purpose, although they could be a little too aggressive. He had been able through several years of practice to develop a link between himself and the animals. At times he could see through their eyes as he slept and could guide and control them to a certain degree. He still needed the help of humans though; he needed a face to represent him during the day. If snoopers came looking at any of his residences, then the door needed to be opened. He had three such men, all seduced by the promise of turning when they were deemed ready; humans had such a capacity for greed he still found.

  As he slept he dreamed of his vengeance, he had taken control of the vast majority of Jimmy’s finances. His carefully chosen children were positioned in pivotal positions throughout Jimmy’s empire. Once the first domino had been tipped the rest had fallen quickly. Bank accounts were emptied, closed, or frozen, deeds were transferred, and properties sold out from under. Drake had been a little disappointed in Jimmy’s kingdom, it was not as far reaching and all encompassing as he would have believed. The man’s organization was worth somewhere in the region of a hundred and fifty million, but Drake had thought him capable of so much more.

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

  December 1994

  “You ungrateful little shits” Drake raged across the desk, “I gave you everything, and this is how you repay me”

  “Don’t think that we’re not grateful” replied Jimmy calmly. “I am going to let you live, surely that’s thanks enough”

  “I ought to spill your worthless guts here and now” Drake roared.

  “Sit down Bennett” Ghost cut in for the first time, raising a hand to stop Drake from jumping out of his seat.

  “People told me I was mad to trust you Jimmy, people said you were some kind
of psycho, but I thought that I could mould you into something special” Drake said with tact from his sitting position. “I wanted you to become the next king of this city; instead you want to be a common thug”

  “Well I’m certainly not common” Jimmy laughed while leaning towards Drake, “But I am a psycho”

  Drake watched as the young man’s eyes danced, he had hoped to resolve their problems like business men, to come to an understanding but Jimmy was not for turning. He knew that if he could talk to Ghost then he would be able to reach an agreement, but Jimmy’s near silent shadow was never alone.

  “Damn it Ghost, is this really what you want? Is this really what you think is the best way forward?” Drake felt hope as Ghost’s face momentarily betrayed his thoughts.

  Jimmy immediately jumped into the pregnant pause, “You have your choice Drake, you either abdicate, or you get buried, and you can thank him” he jerked a thumb towards Ghost. “For even having that choice, if I had my way then you’d already be in the ground”

  Drake drew himself up and stared the young upstart full in the eye, “I can still trade punches with any man in this city you piece of shit, if you want the crown then you have to take it out of my cold dead hands”

  “Calm down old man, you’ve got nothing unless I allow it. Everything that you think you run, I run, every muscle that you think you control, I control, every cop that you think is in your pocket, is in mine, what exactly do think I’ve been doing for the last year?”

  Drake stared disbelievingly, “No” he stated with what he thought was finality. “They still answer to me, and they will crush you when I tell them to”

  “Go ahead” Jimmy pointed at the telephone sitting on the desk, “Because I give you fair warning, if you don’t, then tomorrow you’re over old man”

  Drake snatched up the receiver and hit the top button, which rang through to his personal bodyguards in the house; the ringing was answered in an instant. “Winston” he barked, “Get in here now”

  Ghost watched knowing the answer, but still reading it on the incredulous look on Drake’s face. “It's over Bennett, have a little dignity”, Ghost said gently. “You can still walk away from this, which you know damn well most people in your position don’t get to do”

  “Fuck you both” Drake snarled, his hand suddenly appeared from beneath the desk, his hand holding a large revolver. He hefted the heavy gun up to Jimmy’s face and pulled the trigger, his nerves turned to water as the hammer clicked on an empty chamber.

  “Uh oh” Jimmy laughed.

  Drake pulled the trigger again and again, each time the chamber was empty. He threw the gun towards Jimmy and made a break for the patio doors behind him. A sudden kick on his knee from behind brought him down in a heap, his joint screamed in pain as Ghost hoisted him easily back into the chair.

  “Tut tut Drakey” Jimmy giggled infuriatingly, “Who exactly do you think you’re dealing with? Perhaps this is the reason that you’re in the mess that you’re in”

  “We just want the codes Bennett” Ghost asked in a reasonable voice. “You’ve changed the ones that I set up, just give us the codes, and you can still walk away comfortable and alive”

  Drake’s eyes darted around for any weapon or advantage that he could find, but help was not coming. Winston had assured him of that, he had thought that he had lost some control, but had never imagined that he had lost everything. Jimmy circled him having fun, looking as though he was relishing the situation, Ghost stood apart, his arms hanging low, and his hands folded, looking a little uncomfortable.

  “Ghost” he pleaded softly, “Abraham, don’t let him do this”

  Jimmy was on him in a flash, punches rained down as he tried his best to ward them off, his eye split open and blood trickled into his vision. “You talk to me” roared Jimmy, “Me, me, me” each word was punctuated by a heavy angry blow.

  Drake drifted in and out of consciousness as weighty boots stamped on him as Jimmy tired of using his fists. Suddenly the assault was over as Ghost dragged his assailant away.

  “He’s no use to us dead Jimmy for Christ’s sake” Ghost spat furiously, “Use your head for fuck's sake, we need the codes, I can’t do anything without them”

  Drake looked up from the floor where he found himself laying, his vision was blurred, and his insides felt soft and spongy, and blood ran freely from his wounds. “Please Ghost” he whispered, “You could have everything” he inferred. “Just shoot that piece of shit and I’ll give you the world” he only realized when it was too late, that his offer to have Ghost betray Jimmy was the worst thing that he could have said as the violence fell.

  The next he knew he was coughing himself awake, his body felt numb and unresponsive, Ghost stood over him sweating and strained through effort.

  “Please” Drake gurgled through a blood filled throat.

  “Code” Ghost demanded.

  And he had given it to them, he had drifted off into the welcoming embrace of the darkness and had not awoken until he had hit the water sometime later. The haunting humiliation would last forever, his beating would fade, his betrayal was just business, but it was that begging word, that “please” that he could never forget. He had begged, and it would be seared into his core for a lifetime that after his dragging from his watery grave and rebirth had become eternal.

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

  April 2012

  Dr Thomas Elliot stretched and rubbed his tired eyes, his clinical mind was operating on autopilot. The subject before him was merely a dead body, albeit an unusual one in that it was still moving. In fact it had been still screaming, until he’d had Eddie gag and silence it. He fought against the rising tide of incredulity that threatened to derail his work.

  As a professional he had a job to do, a most unfortunate gambling fetish in his younger days had ultimately led to his ruination, and he had been saved only by the intervention of Abraham “Ghost” Kane. He had run up substantial debts to a bookie over in Riverside, and he had never been able to understand his own addiction. On the surface he had everything that a man could wish for, his career was flourishing, he was healthy and handsome and never short of romantic company. He earned more than enough money to keep himself comfortable. He had a wide range of good and trustworthy friends, and yet there was a deep dark hole inside him that could never be filled.

  He had been taken to his first horse meeting when he was a young and impressionable twenty one year old, by a college professor who shared his orientation. He had been flattered by the dashing older man’s attention, but less than thrilled with the location of their assignation. At his date’s insistence, he had placed his first bet by picking a horse by name only. The professor had laughed at his naivety, scoffing at the long odds and poor form. Elliot would never forget the heart racing adrenaline that seared through his veins as the hooves pounded like thunder and the crowd roared. His horse had finished somewhere way down the field, but it had not mattered; his hole had been temporarily filled during the race and an obsession was born. He had kept his gambling under control during his college and university days, hard studies and limited resources dictated his diary. However, after he had graduated and started his career in earnest, he found his income greatly increased and his nights free and it was a dangerous combination. He had soon found himself being offered more credit that should have been possible, but he had never paused to question it, and the slippery slope had turned into a raging waterfall. He had found himself with debts that had spiralled out of control, and his life had been in genuine danger by a bookmaker who kept a couple of gorillas on retainer. It had been Ghost who had stepped in at the last minute with a lifeboat amidst the stormy waters. He had gone on the Jimmy Dent payroll, and Ghost was as good as his word. That word was discretion; he would only be called when absolutely necessary. He would tend only to the serious and criminally wounded, his name was never used, and his patients were mainly unconscious when he house called.

  He rubbed his tired eyes again a
nd reviewed his notes; the figure had been removed from the cinema and relocated in the games room. He was now secured to the pool table and squirming gently, all fight and defiance now dissipated under his autopsy. He was ready to make a perfunctory report to the group, but he was still unaware as to what exactly was going on. It was odd that Jimmy was not here with Ghost and Eddie, instead of that reporter woman. This creature had attacked the woman from what he could gather, and she had been saved by Eddie. Eddie often let things slip that perhaps he shouldn’t, before Ghost had arrived after summoning him to this house, Eddie had been first to burst with pride at his heroics. Elliot liked the big man, he may be a little slow, but he was not simple, he was open and willing with a need to please and to be liked in return. When he had brought the unconscious woman in, he could see straight away that her arm was out of the socket. He had dosed her up with liquid morphine before wrenching the shoulder forcefully back into the socket. He did not envy her the pain that would probably follow her for the rest of her days. Eddie had been only too eager to regale him with tales of monsters and demons and his white knight rescue. Elliot had listened patiently to the tall tales never believing them for a second.