The Hunger

by Dandridge Doug

  “Isn’t that kind of unusual, Monsignor?” asked Padillas. “I mean, isn’t the Devil’s work better served by spreading the plague? Making more vampires?”

  “I am not sure why she doesn’t spread the disease,” said O’Connor, hunching his shoulders. “I’m also not sure why she only kills the evil of the world. That runs counter to everything I have ever learned about her kind. But she is the Devil’s spawn after all, and must have reasons that are a mystery to us.”

  “Whatever you say, Monsignor,” said Padillas. “And she would control the vampires she creates, wouldn’t she? They would have to follow her orders?”

  “Yes. I believe so.”

  “And if she were destroyed?”

  “Then anyone she created would become a free agent,” answered the priest. “They would act only on their own free will. Why are you so interested in this?”

  “Just curious, Monsignor,” said the crime boss, realizing that he might be giving the priest too much food for thought. “Just curious. Now why don’t you get a little rest? The sun will be going down soon, won't it? And we’ll need you at the height of your priestly powers.”

  The priest nodded his head as he reached for the doorknob. Pulling the door open the priest looked back at Padillas for a moment then walked out into the hall. Manny walked in after he left and stood in front of the boss’s desk.

  “I want you to watch the good Monsignor closely,” Padillas said to his lieutenant. “You know what has to go down for everything to work the way I want it too?”

  “Yeah, boss,” said the thug, who had started his career collecting money owed Padillas in the Port of Tampa, and breaking the legs of those who wouldn’t pay up. “Don’t you worry. We’ll make sure that everything goes just like you said. You can trust me on that.”

  “I know I can, Manny,” said Padillas, standing up, coming around the desk and putting his arm around Manny’s shoulder. “And then when I have what I want we will have a party the likes of Tampa has never seen. And you will have the power and responsibility you deserve as well.”

  Padillas laughed as he walked the lieutenant out of the office. Manny joined in as they both anticipated the night to come.

  Chapter 8

  “Are you sure you’re up to this?” asked DeFalco of Washington, looking worriedly at her bandaged head.

  “Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” she said, then grimaced and put her hand to her head.

  “Does it still hurt?”

  “Let’s see,” said Washington, looking the man in the eye and ticking of her points on her fingers. “Just this morning I was hit in the head by an automobile thrown through a window at me. Then I was attacked by a two hundred and seventy pound vampire. And I saw my doubts about the supernatural destroyed with the rising of the Sun. Other than that, and the fact that my hard head hurts, I’m fine.”

  “You don’t have to do this, you know?” said DeFalco. “The commissioner gave you to me for detached duty. But he left it entirely up to you if you actually wanted to be out here so soon after what happened.”

  “I’m ready,” she said, patting the gun in the holster at her belt. “A lot more ready than I was this morning, thank you.”

  “And another thing,” said DeFalco, trying to use his strongest argument to get her out of the line of danger he was putting himself in front of. But he also wanted the backup, and felt that she would be good at it. Because she believed. “Those bullets you have in there are not quite what I would want to trust. We could get you a .40 caliber, and you could use some of mine.”

  “I don’t like that heavy a gun,” she replied, patting his jacket where he kept his big automatic. “A 9mm is about all I can handle. And the bullets were sprayed with holy water and blessed by a priest. OK, not one who really believed what we’re doing, and not a Catholic Priest. But he’s an AME minister and that makes him as much of a Man of God as I need. And I’ll have the super duper handy dandy silver bullets with the crosses tomorrow. So don’t worry.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “But I do worry, about anyone who faces this evil down in the dead of night like I will.”

  “Well you have to admit I’m better prepared than Lieutenant Smith and the rest of the gang,” she said with a smile. “After what I saw this morning they could have an Abrams tank and not hurt one of those things.”

  Tanesha pulled the silver cross from out of her blouse and waved it in front of the FBI man. “And I have my own backup just in case this time.”

  “OK,” said DeFalco, nodding his head, then looking out into the night beyond the car windows. “But you follow my lead. You’re my backup, which means I’m the point man here. So let me take point and you provide the cover I need to take her out. OK?”

  “Yes sir,” said the detective, sketching a sloppy salute to the FBI Agent. “Or is that aye aye sir.”

  “OK, detective,” said DeFalco with a chuckle. “I’ll depend on your professional abilities for you to do the right thing. I won’t say another word.”

  “Agreed,” said Washington, nodding her head, then grimacing again. She grabbed her purse and pulled the bottle of Tylenol from it.

  “Sure you don’t need something a little stronger?” suggested the FBI Man.

  “I’m sure I do,” she said, “but I wouldn't be that good a backup if I was stoned on narcotics, now would I?”

  “Have it your way,” said DeFalco, turning his attention to the front of the house as he looked through the darkened one-way windows of the unmarked cruiser.

  * * *

  Marcus flew through the skies above the mansion, straining his night vision for the first glimpse of anything inhabiting the night sky with him. He flew close to several bats before realizing that they were the harmless night flyers of the Florida night, on the hunt for insects. Another couple of contacts turned out to be birds of darkness, which flew screeching into the night at the sight of the giant bat heading their way.

  Marcus headed lower over the house, skimming the rooftop as he turned his awareness to the structure below. He could feel the surging life forces within the building, scattered throughout the house, but a group clumped together in one of the ends. Focusing on the group he could feel the sense of wrongness in the room they gathered outside of. A wrongness that gave off a strong undercurrent of danger. Danger to his kind, if not to the mortals who stood near it.

  She might not make it out of there intact, he thought. It would be nice if the priest destroyed her for him, easier on him that is. But maybe not easier on the race. It would be more evidence of their existence for the mortals who already believed to push into the faces of those who didn’t. And there had already been enough of that this morning.

  Damn Tashawn, he thought. If he’d only thought ahead, had alternate lairs, and gave himself enough time to get there, he would still be here. And the mortals would not have the sun blackened bones of a man pronounced dead years ago to point their fingers at. As long as only a few of them, the lunatic fringe, shouted to the world that vampires existed, and no one paid particular attention to them, the race was safe. But give them definitive proof, say the death of a vampire on CNN, and they might go to war with his kind. And given their frightful technology they could wipe us from the face of the Earth. And I for one do not want to go the way of the dinosaur.

  In his mind’s eye Marcus could see the future that might unfold. He could see unmanned drones populating the darkness, looking for his kind. Groups of specially outfitted soldiers with advance sensory and communications equipment, holding automatic weapons loaded with the bullets that could kill his kind. He could see himself strapped to a table, while men in white coats scanned him, seeing if they could gain the secret of his abilities.

  Marcus shook the image from his head as he headed out over the front of the house. He looked up and down the street, noticing the dark car parked across the street from the Padillas house, a couple of lots down. Flying directly over the car he focused his awareness o
n the two sources of life force in the vehicle. He bared his fangs as he felt them, as the awareness of their identities entered his mind.

  The Federal Bureau of Investigation man, he thought, and a compatriot. I could kill them in an instant, and rid their stench from ever bothering me or any of my kind again.

  Marcus swore in his mind as he flapped his wings and gained altitude, moving himself away from the people he wanted so badly to destroy. It would draw more attention to his kind if they were found dead in their car, throats ripped out and covered in blood. And they still might prove to be useful. They were not tracking him, after all. They didn’t even know of his existence. And they could always lead him to the one he sought.

  Marcus turned back over the house and flew high into the sky, looking down at the toy like buildings and cars below. If only she would come. And if only she would fly into the airspace above the house. So he could pounce down on her like a fighter out of the Sun. Knock her to the ground and destroy her before she could cause any more trouble. But she had to cooperate, and she had a tendency to not do that where Marcus was concerned.

  * * *

  Lucinda stood by the waters of the bay, three quarters of a mile from the Padillas mansion. She looked over the always choppy waters, preparing herself for the task ahead of her. A task that she had tried in the past, but never to the degree she was trying tonight.

  She looked down at the body on the ground before her, the iron smell of blood from the wound in the chest hitting her nostrils. She could feel the hunger growing inside her as she smelled the blood, but that blood was not to feed her. It was to feed the magic she must perform this night if she wanted to get into the Padillas house through all of the watchers who would try to stop her.

  The vampiress dipped her hand into the blood and started tracing the pentagram on the concrete walkway a few feet back from the seawall. She took her time, making sure that all of the lines connected. Satisfied that it was a close to perfect as possible, she licked the last of the blood from her hands, cleaning them.

  Lucinda dragged the body to the edge of the water, positioning it so that the head was over the seawall, dead eyes staring into the choppy waves. She drew the knife from her back sheath and raised it into the air above the neck. Closing her eyes she concentrated on the scene, as she wanted to see it, over this section of the bay area. Satisfied that the scene was as she wanted it she opened her eyes and concentrated on the neck, bringing the knife up to the height of her reach, then bringing it down with all of her substantial strength behind it.

  The knife sliced through flesh, muscles and bone with a meaty thunk. The head fell the four feet into the waters of the bay, while blood streamed out from the body to stain the surface. Lucinda grabbed the dead man’s ankles, lifting him and holding him over the water. She held the pimp’s body over the water for several minutes, allowing all of the blood to drain. When she felt that enough had fallen into the waters below Lucinda dropped it after the blood. The body splashed into the waves as the vampire moved away from the seawall.

  Lucinda closed her eyes again, concentrating on the changes she wanted to make to the local area. She brought her hands up into the air, palms inward in the ancient manner of prayer. In her mind she reached into the evil that inhabited her soul, feeding it with her body’s energy, promising it souls to satisfy its hunger.

  She could feel the connection forming, the connection with the dark lord who gave her the powers she possessed. She could feel its anger at her, the anger she had brought by her refusal to do his work on Earth. The anger brought on by her destruction of evil and the foiling of the dark lord’s plans.

  You will do my will, my child, came the thoughts of Satan to her mind. You are an insect, a speck in the eternity that I am. You do not have the power to resist me. Do my will or you will be punished.

  Bring it on, she thought back at the anti-God, forcing all of her will to battle that of the arch demon. I am my own creature. Not yours. And you will bow to my will as a child of God.

  She could feel the power of the demon battling her, as its will beat down upon her like storm waves upon a lone, struggling swimmer. And like the lone swimmer she fought to stay afloat, to resist the power of the waves that sought to drown her. She could feel the strength leeching from her body, as the demon lord of Hell pummeled her.

  I defy you, she screamed in her mind. I renounce you and all of your plans for the race of man. And I will use you as you sought to use man, for my purposes.

  She felt the presence of the demon as some of its essence was pulled into the circle of the pentagram. It fought her with all of its power. But once a part of it had entered the circle, more of it was pulled inexorably into the symbol. More and more flooded in, until Lucinda felt as if the power of a Sun was in the air before her.

  Yes, weak one, said the demon’s voice in her head. Bow down before my might and worship your true God.

  Lucinda opened her eyes and looked skyward, her cruel laughter echoing into the night. She brought her gaze down, her red eyes burning into the shadowy form of the demon within the circle.

  You are the weak one, she thought at it. A liar and deceiver, who pretends to be his master.

  The demon seemed to shrink in on itself as she exerted her will upon it. It fought against her, trying to slash through the magical barrier that kept it imprisoned. It went into a frenzy, but the circle of blood was too much for it, and soon its struggles ceased.

  “You will give me the power,” Lucinda screamed into the night. “It is mine by right of magic, and you will give it to me.”

  Lucinda felt the power flowing into her as it was released by the demon that was now under her command. She could feel it struggle to escape back to its realm, but her hold was too strong. When the energy finally reached its peak, all that she could hold, she clenched her hands before her.

  “Back to Hell, demon. Back to the slime pits from which you came. Obey me now and leave this realm.”

  She could feel the demon’s power wane as it was sucked into the void that birthed it. A final laugh resounded through her mind before it disappeared.

  One day you will be brought to Hell, came the last thoughts of the monster. And I will be waiting for your arrival. Oh yes, I shall. And you will know torment through eternity.

  And then it was gone, and Lucinda let out a mental sigh of relief. The energy she had leeched from the creature was trying to explode from her body, and she must put it to its use quickly.

  Come mist, she thought with her entire focus, raising her hands again into the sky as she walked toward the seawall, carefully skirting the pentagram that still had a residual trace of the evil it had contained. Lucinda looked down into the water, repeating the call in her head over and over, visualizing what she wanted from the water.

  At first there were only a few wisps of mist, curling from the choppy water. Then the wisps grew in number, as the atmosphere over the water became a thickening curtain of moisture. It rose into the air, until a region of hundreds of yards in every direction was blotted out by the thick white covering.

  Lucinda smiled as the mist did as she commanded, growing thicker and thicker. She turned from the sea wall and started walking across the grass of the small park, willing the mist to follow. Within several feet of the road the fog had enfolded her, as it reached tendrils ahead, flowing toward the target. The Padillas Manor, and the evil it contained.

  She walked along the sidewalk of the street that the mansion was on, keeping a tight reign on the fog, while allowing it to cover a wide area so that it would seem a natural phenomenon to the world around her. She felt the fatigue start coming over her again as the last of the demon energy faded from her body. And with the fatigue came the hunger that was a constant part of her existence.

  I have work to do, she thought as she came within a block of the house. I don’t have time to feel tired right now. She could feel how the fog shielded her, and from more that sight. It was a magical shield as well, one that her e
nemies could not penetrate. And it would shield her from the next spell she must enact.

  Mist, she thought, focusing on becoming to the exclusion of all else. She could feel her body begin to spread, as she became as one with the suspended drops of water surrounding her. She moved with the fog as it rolled down the street. She moved her own substance against the current as she came near to the wooden privacy fence of the Padillas property, going through the slats and over the top, recombining her substance on the other side. Rolling across the lawn encased in the covering mist, she veered toward the cupola vents on the top of the house.

  Lucinda’s substance spread through the vents, coming together into the attic of the house. She searched for the way down, rolling along the low roofed attic until she found what she was looking for. The juncture of a wall leading down to a bathroom below, the pipe bringing up its odors giving it away. Sensing nothing in the room and a closed door, she forced her substance through the small opening of the power outlet and the cracks between the duct and vent of the air conditioning.

  The mist that was Lucinda started to thicken in the small bathroom, as she poured more of the beads of moisture that made up her corporeal form through the openings. The mist swirled in the room, thickening into a vortex that tightened, until her human form stood in the center of the bathroom.

  I’m here, she thought, as she took in her surroundings, listening through the walls of the house, tagging where people were, and where they weren’t. She felt excitement at finally being in the home of her primary target. And a little trepidation at being in her enemy’s lair. But I’m finally here. And for better or worse it will soon be over.

  * * *

  Marcus could feel the power building over the Bay. The magnitude of the energy itself, and its leakage from the source, prevented him from pinpointing the origin. He was sure he knew what the source was, if not its location. Then he swore as he felt another source of power materialize in the area.