General Population

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General Population Page 2

by Eddie Jakes


  Maddix shook her stone cold hand. Thoughts of this beautiful woman sleeping in a coffin danced in his mind. It was sexy yet dangerous. There was an appeal to that; he couldn't deny it.

  Each bid their good-byes and Maddix watched as she exited through the door. Her body moved gracefully as she walked. So hard to believe how deadly this woman must be under different conditions. A domesticated killer, Maddix thought.

  "It's amazing how beautiful they all are," Tara remarked.

  Maddix turned. "Yes. Every curse has its upside I guess."

  "What's the next move?" Her voice was excited.

  "Look up what you can about the Statsnys. I think I read something about them in one of the old journals. Then try to cross reference unusual vampire deaths."

  "Unusual?"

  "Yeah, I've never heard of any vampire dying without making some kind of noise, explosion, or flames."

  "Got it. I'll dig out some of the old logs by the Founding Fathers."

  "Great idea," Maddix said. "I'll also need some tools."

  "I thought you might so I grabbed the key for you."

  Tara popped a tiny brass key into his hand. Never before had Maddix thought he'd have to open the cabinet. Inside were a variety of weapons—a pistol, several boxes containing silver tipped bullets, various religious artifacts, and a long, wooden-tipped stake with a reinforced leather grip.

  Time to go to work, Maddix thought.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Despite the intended purpose of the town and its residents, Maddix enjoyed walking through the main strip. It was pretty basic, made up of businesses that the prisoners had created; making use of their talents they had when they occupied the real world. They didn't have a currency of any kind but managed to create an economy out of trade and exchange.

  Most of the vampires and werewolves were tradespeople of varying sorts. They had helped to create the homes they all dwelled in. It was this attempt at forging a community that convinced the Founding Fathers not to wipe them out completely so many years ago. The pact they had agreed on together was a live and let live policy rather than a draconian set of laws.

  Even though its primary residents were supernatural in nature, the town still contained all the basic resources for sustaining life. There was a general store, a pharmacy, the constable station, and Kirkpatrick's Pub. Kirkpatrick's was the hangout for werewolves to drink and cause a ruckus, and the food was always fresh and amazing with some newly hunted game and ripe vegetables.

  The werewolves and vampires lived in tightly knit packs, but there were a few loners here and there living in small homes or apartments in town. Maddix found it amusing that despite the lack of humanity, people were still people and wanting to be a part of a clique seemed to be ingrained in the psyche.

  One large imprisoned community of supernatural monstrosities all locked behind a magical gate, and Maddix was responsible for it.

  Maddix had never actually left the outskirts of town. It was frowned upon by the Founding Fathers, and since no one ever really came to him with issues, it was never necessary. Being the overseer in Malevolent didn't exactly come with a set of rules or a training manual, but each one before him kept a journal of their experience and knowledge. These tomes were more like a set of best practices rather than a rulebook set in stone. Maddix did his part to log his experience but so far, the only thing Maddix had to pass on was his tips and tricks for bluffing in poker—something he had gotten excellent at.

  Tara and Maddix would have lengthy discussions about the Founding Fathers. Aside from the American history reference, neither one of them really could remember anything except that they were the ones who sent them there to oversee the prison. Tara assumed they were just a part of government nobody talked about. A big factor for the prison was in its secrecy, thus the memory wipes and no detailed records other than the journals.

  A half-hour walk out of town was a collection of rather impressive looking houses raised up over the land. Vampires liked to be high above everyone, so most of their dwellings were on top of mountainous looking hills with trails cut into them for effect. One of the many vampire reference books in Maddix's library had stated that vampires built their houses in this form to excite curiosity in treasure seekers. Having the ability to change into a bat made the need for stairs and paths useless, but for them it was a trap to have groceries delivered right to their doorstep.

  The Statsnys possessed a house much larger and more menacing than the others in Malevolent. The front door was big and intricately decorated with carvings of demonic imagery, and a modestly sized metallic bat with a heavy door-knocker set into its claws.

  Maddix knocked on the door and barely a minute passed before it opened. An older gentleman in standard butler affair answered the door. Maddix was a little surprised to see the human figure standing before him. He had expected another vampire or something more sinister.

  "Overseer Benbrook, I presume?"

  "Yes." Maddix extended his hand in greeting.

  The man did not return his handshake but continued to stare are him in anticipation.

  "Um, yeah." Maddix dropped his hand, feeling awkward. "Feel free to call me Maddix."

  "Not at all, Overseer Benbrook. Your title suits you. I am Stillwel, the butler. Please come in."

  Normally Maddix would have been flattered by the respect of his title, but Stillwel's voice was drawn out and eerie.

  "Madam Statsny has informed me of your visit and that you wish to inspect Master Statsny's remains."

  "Yes, Ms. Statsny seems to suspect foul play."

  "Indeed, sir."

  Maddix followed Stillwel upstairs. There were several doors with no indications where they might lead. It wasn't too often that one got to freely walk through a vampire clan's home and he wanted to take in as much as he could. Finally, he thought. There will be something interesting to write in the journals.

  "Is this where they all—" Maddix choked, not sure how to word the question.

  "Sleep, sir? Yes. The eldest of the clan take up residence in the mansion. The youngest reside down below in the caverns. Havel Statsny and his sister are the most elderly of the family."

  "Amazing! How old is she exactly?"

  Stillwel looked at Maddix for a moment before speaking. "It would be rude for any man—especially a man in her employment—to ask a woman her age. Wouldn't you say?"

  "Well yes, I suppose so. Never thought of it that way. Just how long have you been employed by the Statsnys?"

  "It is difficult to say. My concept of time is unclear since we arrived here."

  Maddix understood where he was coming from. Nobody really knew how long they had been in the prison or when exactly. One journal briefly explained something about time and space being out of sync with the real world and Malevolent, but no one knew for sure. When an overseer left the prison, that was it—they were gone.

  "May I ask why you are here? You aren't a normal resident exactly," said Maddix.

  "You are correct. I am bound to the master. I am his familiar."

  "So you are a slave?" Maddix questioned.

  "I am more than willing to serve the master."

  According to history, anyone who was unfortunate enough to be overpowered by a vampire suffered one of three fates. Most of them would be consumed completely and die, some would be consumed and then turned into vampires themselves, and an unlucky few would be charmed into becoming human slaves. Those of weak character were the most susceptible to being hypnotized and then controlled through promises of immortality and power. Their masters would discard most familiars once their usefulness was gone.

  When they reached the room, Stillwel pointed through the doorway with his hand. Luxurious furniture with silk covered cushions and skillfully carved wood decorated the bedroom. Wide open, in the center, laid a polished wooden coffin resting on top of a stone altar covered in satin. Lying motionless inside was the body of Havel Statsny.

  At first glance, Maddix could tell immediatel
y that Havel was Drahomira's brother. They had many similar facial features and he was just as flawless as she was. Whether that was genetics or vampirism though, Maddix wasn't sure. Not every vampire was good looking, but they were still alluring when they weren't trying to kill you.

  Maddix took a moment to look the body over. He could see bite indents and some scratches, nothing breaking the skin, but still noticeable.

  "Who discovered him?" Maddix asked.

  "Madam Statsny. The master often enjoyed reading in the garden after rising. He was found on the ground lifeless and the grounds were torn up around him. She suspected a wolf and tried to give chase but found nothing."

  "Did she bring him back up here?"

  "She did, sir."

  "How long ago was this?

  "Last night, sir. Most likely after midnight when the master rises."

  "He likes to read in the dark?" Maddix jibed.

  "The Statsnys see much better in the dark. Or are you not familiar with their unique set of skills?"

  "Just checking." Maddix felt a little embarrassed exposing his lack of experience and did his best to just shrug it off.

  But Stillwel had a point. Everything about the situation was not in line with vampire lore. There were only a few ways to kill a vampire—stake in the heart or decapitation the most common—and none of that happened here. Just being bitten or scratched by a werewolf wasn't a known way for a vampire to go down, especially when it didn't break the skin. Maddix wasn't even sure if vampires could bleed anyway.

  Blood?

  "Do you have a pin?" said Maddix.

  "A pin, sir?"

  "Anything sharp will do?"

  Stilwell pointed to one of the fancy dressers in the room. Hanging on the wall above it was a felt covered display with two decorative daggers crossing blades.

  "Are those real?" said Maddix.

  "I assure you they are, sir. Master Statsny does not keep decorations."

  Maddix relented and removed one of the daggers from the board. A closer look revealed that it was indeed sharp and deadly.

  Holding his finger out, Maddix made a small slice with the dagger. He winced slightly at the razor-sharp cut. The blood trickled out of the wound quickly and several drops landed on the lips of the motionless vampire.

  "Sir! I must object!" shouted Stillwel, grabbing Maddix's arm.

  Maddix pushed off his hand and watched the body for movement. The drops of blood slid from his lips and down his cheek, with some seeping into his mouth. There was no reaction, not even a twitch. He was convinced now—Havel Statsny had to be dead.

  Something flashed in the sunlight; it seemed to be coming from the sleeve of the body. Maddix grabbed his arm for a closer look. Stillwel was not comfortable with the manhandling of his master and let it be known through sighs and coughs. Ignoring him, Maddix found a large insect wing caught in the cuff of Havel's shirt. He removed the wing from the cuff and respectfully placed Havel's arm back to its original resting place. This seemed to please Stillwel, who ceased with the passive aggressive objections.

  "Can you show me the garden, please?" he asked, and handed the dagger to Stillwel.

  "Of course, sir. It's this way."

  The pair continued downstairs and through some hallways toward the kitchen. The kitchen was immaculately clean save for a strong odor coming from a pantry area. Maddix stopped to look at the slightly opened door.

  "What the hell is in there?" Maddix demanded.

  "Nothing you would be interested in, sir. If we could press on—"

  "Open it, please." Maddix took a step back.

  "If you insist, sir.

  Something inside the pantry smelled dead and Maddix wasn't sure how he knew that. Sometimes the brain would recall a feeling or sensation from the past but never actual images or memories. This wasn't the first time a recollection of this sort happened to him. There were quite a few times, and never a single reason why. Maddix was resigned to the fact that he must have been some kind of detective or a private investigator in the real world. At least that's what he hoped for.

  Stillwel opened up the door and both the smell and the imagery were enough to make Maddix choke back some bile. There were a dozen hooks hanging from the ceiling. Each one hung the corpse of a slaughtered cow, deer, or something else that could no longer be identified. There were bite marks all over the carcasses and entrails spilling out from the open wounds.

  "Holy shit!" Maddix covered his face.

  "I did warn you, sir," said Stillwel as he closed up the pantry.

  "What was all that?"

  "To satisfy the Statsnys specific dietary requirements. Live cattle and game are provided by some of the werewolf clans in exchange for other services."

  "Such as?" Maddix was curious.

  "The Statsnys are masons by trade. They built most of the structures in the land. Their superior strength makes it quite easy for them."

  "I see," said Maddix. "Quite the business they have."

  "Indeed, sir. Through that door, you will find the garden."

  The garden was an ostentatious array of hedges grown to act as decoration and privacy walls. The center was home to a simple yet elegant shimmering pool with an assortment of chairs surrounding it. One chair was knocked over on its side with a large leather-bound book lying open. Maddix could tell by the disturbed soil that there was indeed a struggle between two individuals of approximate strength. The real question was who would try to take on a vampire in hand-to-hand combat? There were not many creatures in Malevolent possessing the level of strength to survive such a fight. Werewolves, or perhaps even the amphibious lake monsters would have the strength but not the intelligence to win.

  Maddix did a quick once-over of the scene, muttering to himself that it would have been better if they had not moved the body. Despite his best fantasies, he wasn't a real detective in any case and it probably wouldn't have made any difference. He wasn't even sure what it was he was trying to find.

  Relying on the best of his abilities, Maddix noted a single trail leading into the hedges where a large hole was ripped inward. Maddix stuck his head through the opening, revealing a steep landscape with the forest behind it. There was clawed up sections of dirt leading all the way up to the edge. Whoever attacked Statsny climbed the steep hill on all fours just to get to him. Everyone knew who lived in that forest and no one ever went into it.

  "Not so sure I want to find out who did this."

  "Pardon, sir?"

  "This opening is the only way into this garden except for the front door?

  "Yes."

  Not only was the attacker strong, but also he must have been insane. Walking corpses populated the forest, and they were the most recent additions to Malevolent. Being imprisoned with the rest of the population made them harmless. Maddix and Tara were magically protected from harm and the constables wore protective scarabs. That left the local inhabitants, none of which the walking dead considered tasty. So with no living flesh to consume, all the zombies lost their drive to hunt. Occasionally a few would try to move on a werewolf but that never ended well for the zombie. To keep the prison smelling as clean as possible, all the zombies were corralled into the only area where they would not stink up the town—the forest. Now they all stood motionless and decomposing without any sense of purpose like a wax museum of walking horror.

  Maddix snapped out of his trance and got back to the business of catching a killer. There wasn't much else to go on as far as he could see. There was no such thing as forensics or DNA testing in the realm; not that any of that would be much help. You only had your wits and knowledge to work with.

  As he walked away from the hedges, the sun reflected off something shining on the ground. When he got closer, he could tell it was another wing, identical in both shape and size of the first. Close by was the book that Statsny was reading at the time of the attack. The spine of the book was slightly smashed in and there was what appeared to be dirt and mud on the corner, but smelled as bad as
the pantry in the house. Looking at the title he could tell it was written in a language that he did not understand. Maddix picked up the wing and the book, thinking that there might be something he was missing. Ephrain might be able to figure out what these wings are, he thought.

  "You mind if I take the book with me? I would like to inspect it back at my office. Look for clues."

  "If it will help, sir. Of course."

  "I don't know if it will," Maddix took a deep breath, and tried his best to sound professional. "My best theory right now is that somehow, a zombie or werewolf came in from the forest and into the garden. The bites and scratches don't seem to be from a wolf though. That's why I want to look at this dirt caked on the book closer."

  Stillwel scoffed at the notion. "A zombie? Why would one of them have any desire to attack the master? They only pursue living flesh if I am correct in assuming."

  "That's the part I am trying to figure out still. Something is missing, but I think I have learned everything I can here."

  "Indeed, sir.”

  "Please inform Ms. Statsny that I will get in touch with her when I know more. I can find my own way out, thank you."

  To say that Maddix was relieved to be walking back to town after being in the central hub of vampire elite was an understatement. It made him wonder why someone would volunteer for this position and insert his or her selves in such a dangerous place. Maddix didn't even know for sure that he did volunteer for the job. As far as his brain allowed him to remember, this was his only life.

  There weren't too many people that Maddix trusted in Malevolent; they were all monsters and killers after all. But over the few years he'd known him Ephrain Ketter had managed to grow on him. He was an apothecary in the real world, delving into dark chemistry and the deadliest of poisons. He had experimented on himself so much that his blood had become toxic, and no manner of creature or beast dared to feast on him for fear that his tainted blood would eat through their flesh.

  It was unfortunate for all of humanity that Ephrain chose a dark path to use his knowledge. Someone else with the talent for manipulating chemistry they way Ephrain did could have done so much good for the world. As is the way of things in history however, most of the gifted ones are evil.

 

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