Bill The Vampire - 01

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Bill The Vampire - 01 Page 12

by Rick Gualtieri


  “Doubtful, since he knows I'm in town. However, it’s possibly a necessary evil that you'll have to endure.”

  “At least he can't compel you to just stand there and take it,” Sally added.

  Good point. Now all I had to do was somehow spin my probable running away from him like a pussy into a positive for the rest of the coven, and I'd be all set. Goddamn, this was going to be a long weekend.

  Date Night

  Sally and I left James, still sitting there, drinking espresso... damn that was going to be one wired vamp... and walked back to the village. As we got to within a few blocks of the loft where I was turned, Sally informed me that we were about to enter their (our) territory, and that there would, no doubt, be eyeballs watching us.

  “Stop slouching. Walk straight with your head up and facing ahead. You need to look like you own the place,” she said

  “I don't slouch.”

  “You look like you're studying the sidewalk. You might as well have a sign that reads ‘Professional Victim’ hanging around your neck. Walk like I do.”

  “Like my ass is available to the lowest bidder?”

  “I'm surprised you haven't made me an offer yet. You look like somebody who needs to pay for it.”

  “Thanks. Maybe I should just pledge my undying loyalty to Jeff.” I suddenly adopted a sniveling tone, “Oh, and, by the way, master, Sally's trying to fuck you over behind your back.”

  “Touché. But it still doesn't change the fact that you need to exude a little bit of this thing we call confidence when you walk.”

  She was a bitch, but she was a bitch with a good point. I stood straighter and tried to put a bit of a swagger in my step.

  “Tone it down a little, Superfly,” she said out of the corner of her mouth.

  “What? You said to walk with confidence.”

  “Yeah, but that doesn't mean you have to shuffle like some seventies pimp.”

  I tried what she suggested and she finally agreed that it was acceptable.

  “Oh, there's one other little detail,” she said. “Just to give things an air of authenticity.”

  I was about to ask her what, when she suddenly flung herself into a pile of trash on the sidewalk. Before I could even make a move, she was back on her feet and launching herself face-first into the side of the nearest building.

  “What the fuck?” I practically screamed. When she was finished, she turned back to me. She was covered in grime, small cuts, and had several bruises appearing on her face.

  “Ta da!” she said with a smile. “Now it looks like I successfully tracked down the ferocious Freewill.”

  Holy shit, this chick was psycho. What the hell had she and Ozymandias dragged me into?

  * * *

  We went straight to the loft, and Sally let us in. I was trying my best to look stone cold pissed off, but I felt it was only a matter of time before I shit my pants. If I was going to do this, I'd have to dive in feet first. Otherwise, I might find myself remembering that this was a nest of hardcore killers and start looking for another window to throw myself out of.

  There were about a dozen vampires scattered around the room, far less than the week before. No party tonight, I guess. There were three vampires, a male and two females, seated on the couch. I recognized the male as one of the goons who had dragged me back up to the loft last week, following my impromptu skydiving lesson. On the floor in front of them was a dead, presumably exsanguinated, body. The vamps on the couch were all bloody, so I assumed we had entered just as they were finishing up a meal. This was the perfect opportunity... the best way to show dominance to a predator was over a fresh kill. I just hoped it wasn't the perfect opportunity for me to blow it and get my ass put through a wall.

  I shoved past Sally (who fell back with much more of a grunt than the push had warranted) and approached the couch. All three vamps glanced toward me and I couldn't help but notice a little air of uncertainty about them. However, when the male spoke up, his voice had nothing but douchebag bravado behind it.

  “What the hell are you staring at, cockface?” he snarled.

  Okay, it was now or never. Guess it was time to see if that semester I put in with NJIT's drama society paid off. “My name is Dr. Death,” I said calmly.

  “My apologies, Dr. Death!” he spat, eliciting a few giggles from the lady vamps.

  “I don't believe we've been introduced,” I continued with an even, almost friendly tone.

  “Name's Dusk Reaper,” he replied. Jeez, every name here was stupider sounding than the last.

  “Nice to meet you. Now listen up, Dick Reaper. You're sitting in my fucking seat,” I said, willing my voice to be calm and making sure to not break eye contact... hey, it works for dogs, might as well try it here.

  “What the fuck did you call me, asshole!?” he said, his voice rising and drawing attention from the other vampires in the room.

  In my mind, I envisioned my Elven battlemage. He wouldn't take shit from anyone. He once stared down an entire tavern full of angry bugbears. No way would he back down from this asshole. I let years of role playing experience take over and envisioned that this was just another random encounter. Time to throw down my twenty-sider.

  “You heard what I called you,” I sneered. “More importantly, you heard what I told you. You're in my seat. Get. The. Fuck. Up. Now,” I said in a flat tone that would have made a Zen master proud.

  “Or what?” he replied. His voice still held its original menace, but I could see a glimmer of doubt in his eye (I hoped). He wasn't expecting this.

  I ignored his question, and, instead, casually swept my gaze toward the body on the rug. “This your handiwork?”

  “Damn straight. Drained him like a stuck pig.”

  “Nasty what happens when a human gets drained by a vampire,” I said conversationally. This was it. Sink or swim. Please work, was going through my mind as I calmly added, “Ever see what happens when someone like me drains a vampire?”

  That stopped his attitude dead in its tracks. I could see it in his eyes. Goddamn it, Sally and James were right! ”No,” he stammered.

  “Well, you're going to,” I said as I suddenly put an edge to my voice, “if you don't fucking move... NOW!”

  There was a tense pause as we locked eyes... and then he blinked first. Looking like a petulant child who had been sent to bed early, he got up without a word and stalked off. I, in turn, sat down, leaned back, and put my feet up on the corpse (gross!) like I owned the place. The two ladies got up to follow him. As they did, I said in my best arrogant tone, “When you decide you've had enough of Dick Raper there, come on back and I'll show you how to make a Dr. Death sandwich.”

  One gave me a look of outright disgust as she stormed off in a huff, but the other gave me a much less hostile glance that said that maybe, just maybe, there'd be a chance in hell of that happening. Damn, I'd been acting like an alpha dog for less than five minutes, and already I was seeing more results than I ever did before. Note to self: remember this shit!

  Of course, Sally had to go and ruin it by sitting down next to me. She carried herself meekly, but it was just an act. “Smooth,” she whispered low enough so that the others wouldn't overhear. “You'd wind up alone at a sex addicts convention.” Bitch. Sally aside, though, the exchange between Dusk Reaper and myself appeared to be having its desired effect. There were a lot of whispered conversations going on in the room, and a quick scan showed that few vamps in the crowd were willing to make direct eye contact with me. So far, so good.

  Unfortunately, almost as if on cue, I heard a familiar voice angrily yell out, “What the fuck is wrong with you!?” I turned my head to see Night Razor come stomping out of one of the bedrooms, looking as much the douchebag as ever. In tow followed the cute redhead I had seen the previous week, looking very disheveled, I might add. Whatever I might think of Jeff, it was obvious he was getting tail from whomever in the coven he felt like getting it from. I really needed to put in an application for his job. />
  Oddly enough, his wrath wasn't directed toward me... at least not yet. He was busy chewing Dusk Reaper a new asshole. You can probably guess the reason.

  “You're eighty-four goddamn years old, and you're going to puss out to this?” Night Razor screamed in the other vampire's face as he gestured toward me. As he continued with his tirade, I felt Sally's boot strike me quickly on the side of my shin (which kinda hurt). She didn't need to remind me. Whatever happened in the next few minutes would either make or break me, literally.

  “Sorry... Razor, man. It's just that... he's... y'know,” Dusk Reaper stuttered.

  “Don't start with that freewill bullshit!” Razor yelled. “I thought you were smarter than that! (Really? I personally wouldn't have given Doofus Reaper credit for being smart enough to tie his own shoes.) Now stop being a fucking pansy and GO SHOW HIM WHO'S BOSS!”

  No doubt about it, I could feel the force of the compulsion from where I was sitting. Dusk Reaper's eyes momentarily glazed over, and then a look of pure anger spread across his face. He started slowly advancing upon me as Night Razor looked on approvingly. Time to test whether Ozymandias knew what he was talking about. Trying (and almost failing) my damnedest to remain calm, I locked eyes with Dusk Reaper as he advanced.

  With each step he took, I pulled back my lips a little to bare more of my fangs, and also tensed my body, as if preparing to launch myself at him (a bluff, but then again, that bugbear encounter had been one, too. I was only fourth level at the time, after all). All the while, I never let my eyes waver from his. At the third step, his body started to quiver, and his movements became a little jerky. At the fourth step, I noticed the look on his face starting to waiver, as well.

  By the time his foot came down for the fifth step (I was quickly running out of room) he stopped and broke his gaze from mine. He shook his head a little, as if clearing his thoughts, and then turned to Night Razor.

  “It's all good, man. I was just heading out, anyway. Really!” he said, that last part coming out perhaps a bit whinier than he had meant it to. Night Razor and I both glared at him. Mine was still a bluff, but I was pretty sure Razor was getting ready to eviscerate the other vamp. To his credit, Dusk Reaper sensed this and beat a hasty retreat to the door. He tried to save some face by turning to me as he opened the door. “Next time, motherfucker!” he tried to growl, but there was no real conviction to his voice. He finally shut the door behind him and I took my first breath in what felt like an hour.

  Night Razor slowly turned toward me, his hands curled into fists. I was definitely not out of the woods, yet. A beat down at his hands now would probably knock down the giant wall of self-serving bullshit I had just built. That, and it would also hurt... probably a lot. Quickly healing or not, I found myself not loving pain any more now than I did whilst still alive. Fortunately, I had a life preserver to cling to.

  “Ozymandias says ‘hi,’” I said before he could do anything to me that I might regret. That appeared to give him cause to reconsider. He apparently knew James was in town and was likely to visit. Jeff wasn't even remotely afraid of me, that I could tell. However, I was pretty certain whatever desire he had in him to beat the snot out of me was outweighed by his lack of desire to deal with James afterward. I had seen James in action, and Jeff's reaction to it. In a fight, James would eat Night Razor for lunch, and then probably still have enough left in him to use me as a toothpick.

  We both knew the cause for his hesitation, but I still had an illusion to maintain for the others. As he just stood there, I bent down and dipped my finger into the wound in the corpse's neck (all while still resting my feet on it). I brought my hand back up and contemptuously licked the blood off of it. In practice, it was a pretty gross thing to do, but I bet it looked pretty damn cool. Yeah, it would have looked a bit cooler if maybe I looked more like Vin Diesel, but you work with what you have.

  Sally, to her credit, jumped right in and played along. “Okay, that's it! I've had enough,” she said with just a slight quiver to her voice. She leapt to her feet and went to stand with Night Razor. “I did what you asked me to. I found him and convinced him to come back. But I can't take it anymore! (Ooh, were those crocodile tears rolling down her face? Nice touch.) This fucker is just creeping the shit out of me. Please, master! I'm sorry I brought him here. I didn't know.” She put her arms around Razor and buried her face in his shoulder. “Please, forgive me,” she whimpered softly. “I'll be more careful next time, I swear. Just give him to someone else. Let Firebird keep an eye on him and I'll stay here with you.” Judging by how pale the redhead's face went, I assumed she must be Firebird. I actually almost found myself hoping Jeff might take Sally up on her suggestion. A little ginger action might be just what the doctor ordered.

  Sadly, no redheaded sloppy seconds for me, though, as Jeff shoved Sally away from him. “Tough shit. You made your bed, now you can lie in it. This piece of shit is your problem.” Sally dropped to her knees and started quietly sobbing. “Whine about it again and I'll compel you to just let him do whatever the hell he wants with you.” (Oh, yeah! Please whine again, please whine again.) Jeff nodded toward the redhead, and she quickly went to his side. “I'm getting some fresh air. This place stinks.” As he walked toward the door, he looked me in the eye and said, “I'll see you tomorrow night, meat,” and then he was gone.

  Within a few minutes, every other vampire in the apartment suddenly found an excuse to go elsewhere. As the last one closed the door behind him, Sally popped up from the floor and gave me a big grin.

  “That went fucking fabulously!”

  “Glad you thought so,” I mimed wiping sweat off my brow. “Me, I'm not entirely sure I didn't crap my pants.”

  “You did great! Enough of the coven saw what went down between you and Dusk Reaper. By the end of the night, everyone will be talking about how they practically had to drag you from him before you could rip his head off.”

  “I'm surprised Jeff didn't rip mine off.”

  “You played that perfectly. He's not about to cross James. And now he'll have his hands full with damage control, as they're probably also going to be gossiping about how he backed down in front of you.”

  “Great. Now all I have to do is keep him from killing my ass tomorrow night,” I said, still a little shaky.

  “Yeah, that one might be a bit dicey,” she agreed. “You definitely didn't win any points in his book tonight. You might want to consider not following him down any dark alleys or subway tunnels.”

  “Thanks. I kind of figured that.”

  “Oh, relax. You scored big tonight. That's the important thing. Sit back, put your feet up, and snack on the leftovers.” She pointed to the corpse. “You might as well. You're probably not going to get much of a chance to relax tomorrow,” she said as she walked into the kitchen.

  Looking to change the subject to something other than my potential future pummeling, I gestured down at the dead body. “Speaking of leftovers, how the hell do you guys clean up messes like this?”

  “We pay the cleaning crew very well, and they don't ask questions,” she called from the kitchen. “As for the carpet, a quick steam clean, and you'll never notice the blood. Scotchgard is a fucking miracle, I tell you.” She emerged from the kitchen, steak knife in hand. “Pity I can't say the same for this dress.” With that, she sliced open the side of her neck. Blood immediately started pouring down her shoulders.

  “Jesus Christ!” I yelled, jumping to my feet.

  She smiled at me as the blood began to soak the top of her dress. “All for the cause. Just in case anyone else comes back, they'll learn how I just barely managed to fight you off when you tried feeding upon me.”

  “Oh. Yeah, right, I guess,” I stammered. A few minutes ago, Sally had done a good job pretending to be afraid of me. However, I was thinking maybe I should be the one who's afraid of her.

  * * *

  Sally's little display proved to be useful, if completely psychotically insane. The loft was apparently
a popular hangout spot for the coven. As such, every couple of hours or so, a group of vampires could be heard walking up the stairs. They would come waltzing in the door, and there would be Sally, lying on the floor, holding her neck (which she had to cut several times due to her enhanced healing), and tearfully crying for help. Each and every time, the vampires showed what a standup bunch of assholes they were. They'd look in horror from her to me (I was mostly just sitting on the couch flipping through TV channels... I love pay per view, especially when I'm not the one paying). I'd give them a glare or two, and then they'd just book the hell out of the door faster than they came in. Worked like a charm. I wouldn't have expected vampires to be such pussies, but I wasn't complaining about it, either.

  Finally, with the morning sky just starting to lighten, she declared we were probably safe from intrusion for a while, and went off to take a shower. I, being the gentleman that I am, left her to her business (the bitch locked the door) and went to warm up a liter of blood in the microwave. When she came out (dressed, sadly) she immediately headed for one of the bedrooms. She suggested I do the same, as I had a long night ahead of me. That sounded like a good idea. The excitement of the previous night had finally faded, and I was feeling pretty wiped. I thus went into the other bedroom (after first making sure Sally was securely locked in hers... she was, damn it). I entered the room that Jeff and the redhead had come out of hours earlier, and then immediately backed the fuck out. I don't know what the hell they were doing in there, and I don't want to know. Suffice it to say, holy crap that was a lot of blood!

 

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