Exsanguination

by DeDanaan, Sean

  “Still . . .”

  Vanessa looked up at the ceiling as if lost in thought, smiling slightly. “I remember kidnapping a young woman – mind you this was many years ago,” she waved her hand dismissively. “Apparently she was deeply religious. I displayed my fangs and informed her that I was going to drain her to death and, since she would die in such a fashion, she would be assured of a place in the deepest of hells. She was so consumed with terror that she completely lost control of her bodily functions. I bit slowly so the pain would enhance the fear and, Phillip, I can tell you that it was all I could do to stop myself at a quart. It was pure bliss.”

  He gave her a look of revulsion. “That’s just damned evil, Vanessa! It’s disgusting!”

  “I waited for her to recover her senses. When she did, she tilted her head dreamily and softly asked for more,” Vanessa stuck her tongue out at him. “In any case, she survived the encounter and, if I was to guess, tried to find me for years.”

  “Well,” Nikki piped up, “you won’t catch me drinking that artificial crap. I don’t even like diet sodas!” she shook her head as she rifled through the last two weeks of newspapers. “Well, it seems that black is the new black.”

  “Meaning?” her brother queried.

  “Gothic fashion has gone mainstream,” she held up an advertising page of The Times, displaying a variety of Gothic outfits.

  Vanessa chuckled. “You think this is our doing?”

  “I’m sure of it,” Nikki replied. “For good or ill, we’ve become superstars, Vanessa. Trendsetters. Listen to this. According to a poll, some sixty-six percent of people between the ages of sixteen and thirty would prefer to be a vampire or would wish to be fed on by one.”

  Joe looked at his watch and turned on the radio.

  “What’s up, Joe?” Phillip asked.

  “Got the word from someone at the station. It’s going to be a call-in show hosted by . . . wait for it . . . a vampire.”

  It turned out to be informative due to the callers to the show. They seemed to be evenly split between those thinking it was wonderful that vampires existed and those who vehemently held the opinion that they should be destroyed by any means necessary.

  “Well,” Vanessa commented when it was over, “that was absolutely delightful,” her lip curled slightly.

  Phillip sighed. “Looks like, no matter what we do, there are a lot of people out there who want us gone.”

  “Mmm,” Vanessa nodded thoughtfully, “I’m guessing, based on what I heard that it’s about a sixty-forty split. Most of the country likes the idea that we’re here to save them from lycans and the remainder would want to see us exterminated,” she shook her head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with these people.”

  Phillip shrugged. “It’s simple. When people fear something, they quickly come to hate it. Human nature.”

  She gave him a sour look and then smiled. “We have a couple of MPs and I’m going to lean on them a bit.”

  “What’s up?” Nikki asked.

  “They’ll be putting up a funding bill for the research into the cloning of blood. I’m quite sure they’ll be able to offer persuasive arguments for it. At least the humans will be in favour of it.”

  Nikki laughed. “Your money or your blood!”

  Her comment elicited grins around the room.

  “I’ve hired about a dozen of London’s finest away from the police department to do security on the property. The tendencies shown by some of our critics are troubling.”

  “You mean like the guy shooting up the club?”

  “Exactly. I think we have a lot less to fear from the general population than we do from religious fanatics and other deranged individuals.”

  There were nods of agreement.

  “It will be round the clock in eight-hour shifts with four men working each shift.”

  “Vampires? Armed?” Phillip asked.

  “Absolutely and I’ll be keeping the grounds lights off between sundown and sunrise.”

  The following evening, Azar was shown into the drawing room. Vanessa took her aside and had a short chat with her. Phillip watched and could see Azar smiling and nodding. After a few minutes they returned to the main group and the Middle Eastern woman approached Phillip. He groaned silently.

  “I apologize for making you uncomfortable, Phillip. It is a weakness I have. Few things arouse me as much as putting a man on edge,” she smiled and extended her hand. “Friends?”

  He relaxed a bit and nodded, shaking hands with her.

  “You should take it as a compliment. I only behave in that fashion with men who I find extremely good-looking,” she winked at him.

  “Thank you,” he responded with a slightly sceptical look on his face. As she walked away, he sighed. Might as well get used to the woman, he thought, since she’s effectively taking Antoine’s position on the council.

  It was about two in the morning when the front door opened and Vanessa’s guards came through. Three of them had men in tow, securely handcuffed. The fourth carried a suitcase.

  The guard with the suitcase approached Vanessa.

  “We found these three on the grounds and one of them was carrying this.”

  “What’s in it,” she didn’t seem alarmed.

  “Explosives. Enough, I’d guess to take out half of the house.”

  Two of the men appeared to be in their late twenties and the third looked to be considerably younger.. Vanessa approached one of older ones.

  “Young and foolish,” she stated as she came close to his face. “Who sent you here?”

  The man compressed his lips and refused to look her in the eye.

  She nodded. “I see,” she glanced at the vampire holding the man’s arm. “Take them downstairs, strip them, and secure them in the vaulted room on the west side. We’ll loosen their tongues.”

  Azar, wide-eyed with excitement, came close to Vanessa. “Please allow me. I would consider it a privilege.”

  Vanessa sighed and nodded. “They’re all yours. Get what you can out of them.”

  Azar smiled and turned to the security guards. “Take them. I’ll be along after a while.”

  Before he could comply, she moved up to his ear and whispered to him for a moment. He nodded.

  As they were marched downstairs, Vanessa opened the suitcase to examine its contents. It was packed with plastic explosive and detonators.

  “Well, whoever they work for has money and connections.”

  Phillip, having heard the interchange between Vanessa and Azar shook his head. He looked at Azar.

  “Are you going to use hypnosis and compulsion on them?”

  She smiled. “That and other methods and techniques.”

  “Other methods?”

  Azar nodded. “You’re welcome to watch if you’re not too squeamish.”

  Phillip looked at Vanessa in shock. “You’re going to let her torture them?”

  “We’ll have answers, darling and this is something that Azar is accomplished at.”

  He glanced at Azar who smiled and winked at him. He turned back to Vanessa.

  “And you’re going to allow this?” his lip curled slightly.

  “All I want is answers, Phillip. These people are human terrorists. How would you have felt if you survived the bombing only to find me with arms and legs blown off?”

  “Why not just use compulsion?”

  Vanessa shrugged. “It’s often used to verify information that’s been given. In and of itself, compulsion is not perfect. Azar will use all the tools at her disposal to find out who sent these three,” she shook her head. “Really, Phillip, you need to start getting over this bizarre attachment you have for violent, murderous humans.”

  “Amen to that,” Nikki piped up.

  Phillip looked at her in disbelief.

  “I’m with Nikki,” Owen said.

  “That’s because you’re her food!” Phillip snapped back at him.

  “See?” Nikki grinned. “You’re starting to co
me around, dear brother.”

  “Argh!” Phillip growled in frustration and Vanessa looked at Nikki.

  The four vampires returned from below and one approached Azar. “They’re ready for you, mum.”

  “Thank you,” she smiled and Phillip found himself becoming more disgusted.

  Azar whispered to Nikki for a few minutes, bringing a grin to the girl’s face, and then proceeded downstairs. Nikki stood and made her way to the kitchen, returning a moment later with a two-quart pitcher.

  “I’m off to see a pro work!” she announced and found her way downstairs to the deepest part of the building some thirty feet below the main cellar floor. Nikki had no idea that there were areas of the house that were so deep. The west side of the cellar had double doors in the wall. She went through and closed them behind her. Stone steps led down to another heavy door. Two more doors and sets of stone stairs later, she walked into a large room.

  “Shut the door,” Azar smiled.

  Nikki did so and then smiled at Azar. “As requested,” she held out the pitcher. Setting it on a table, Azar walked to the first man, Nikki following her closely as she looked around the room.

  “God! This is something right out of the Spanish Inquisition! I had no idea this existed down here.”

  The man in front of them roared. “Don’t you dare take his name in vain, you demon bitch!”

  “May I?” Nikki asked as she looked at Azar with raised eyebrows.

  “By all means,” the older woman grinned. “Just don’t kill him or cause major blood loss.”

  Nikki positioned herself directly in front of the man who, like his cohorts, was chained to the stone wall, spread-eagled. She took aim and drove her knee into his groin. His eyes almost popped out as he screamed in agony.

  Azar laughed. “Good shot, sweetie!”

  “Thanks!” she grinned. “You know, that’s only the second time in my life I’ve done that and it felt damned good.”

  “You’re enjoying your power,” Azar nodded and looked around. “It looks like Vanessa has had it cleaned recently.”

  Nikki’s eyes widened. “You mean Vanessa uses this place?”

  “She has on occasion, although not for a while – a decade or more I would guess,” Azar gave her a warning look. “Don’t you dare let it get back to your brother. You know how he is. He would be horrified and it would definitely cause trouble in paradise. Vanessa would be furious.”

  Nikki shook her head. “I definitely don’t want to stir that kind of shit.”

  “Did you want to stay for this? You can leave if you’d like.”

  Nikki shook her head. “I want to watch.”

  Azar tilted her head and slowly smiled at her. “I’d welcome the company. Who knows, you might want to become a student of the art.”

  The groaning man was starting to recover. She stared into his eyes although she had no intention of using compulsion just yet.

  “Who sent you?”

  “God! God sent me to destroy you vermin children of Satan!”

  Azar released the man from his restraints and locked his ankles together. Pulling his wrists behind him, she secured them and then picked him up and carried him about twenty feet away.

  “Nikki, do you see that chain hanging right above my head? The one with the hook on the end?”

  She nodded and stared upward. The stone ceiling was some twenty feet above them.

  “There’s a cranking mechanism over there,” Azar gestured to a device to her left. “Please lower it down to about waist high.”

  “You got it!”

  The winch-like mechanism clicked loudly as the hook slowly lowered. The man began to pray out loud.

  “Well, now we know what kind of fanatic he is,” Azar nodded as she connected the hook to the manacles that secured his wrists together.

  “What are you going to do?” Nikki looked at her.

  “It’s called ‘strappado’ and he’s going to find it most unpleasant. You see, our arms are primarily made to extend in front of us, not behind us. We’re going to make this man’s shoulders go in a direction for which they were never designed,” she spoke as she walked back to the two remaining men. One was about thirty and grim-faced . . . determined looking. Azar looked at the other one who was trembling like a leaf, his eyes wide with horror. He couldn’t have been more than eighteen. Tears were running down his cheeks.

  “You can bring this to a halt whenever you’d like. All you need do is answer my questions.”

  He compressed his lips together in a show of false bravado and Azar spun to face Nikki.

  “Would you like to do the honours?”

  “Can I?” she asked excitedly.

  Azar laughed softly “Of course. Raise him slowly. Like the pleasure you give by snacking, draw it out.”

  Nikki began slowly cranking the wheel that controlled the chain. She watched, fascinated, as the man’s face began to contort with pain. After a few minutes, his toes came off the floor and he began to howl in agony as his shoulders were stressed horribly in the wrong direction.

  “Stop it! Stop it! Please!” the youngest of the three prisoners yelled loudly and Azar held up her hand to Nikki indicating she should stop. It had no positive effect on the hanging man as he was already off the floor. Nikki engaged the pawl, locking the winch.

  Azar walked to the young man, smiling.

  “You want it to stop?”

  “Yes! Yes!” he cried out.

  Azar shook her head. “You can stop it. Tell me what I want to know.”

  He glanced quickly at the man on his left who glared at him.

  “You keep your mouth shut, boy.”

  He started to sob and Azar waved at Nikki. “Raise him up about two feet further.”

  Nikki complied as Azar approached the suspended man. She realized that there was no use trying to talk to him as he was hysterical with pain. She wrapped her arms around his waist and slowly began shifting her weight, lifting her feet slowly off the floor. Eyes closed, she smiled as she felt his left shoulder come out of its joint. The man’s howls became shrieks of agony. Azar chuckled and gave a quick bounce with her body, separating his right shoulder. From behind her, over the man’s screams, she heard the youngest captive yell ‘Pastor Franks’!

  Azar let go of the hanging man with a grin and slapped his stomach.

  “Don’t go anywhere. I’m not quite finished with you,” she began walking toward the young man.

  “Something to say?” she smiled.

  “Pastor Franks. He sent us!” tears were rolling down his cheeks as he sobbed “Please stop torturing him!”

  “Shut your damned mouth!” his chained companion yelled at him. “I’ll kill you!”

  Fear showed on the younger one’s face and Azar gave him a sympathetic smile. “Not to worry, I won’t let him harm you,” she unchained him and led him to the table where the pitcher was.

  “Why don’t you sit down, relax, and tell me all about it.”

  “Pastor Franks is our pastor at the church. He says that all vampires must be sent back to hell where they came from. He gave us the bomb to plant to kill you all.”

  “And you believe that we’re evil demons too but you’re afraid of what I might do if you said it?”

  He nodded tearfully.

  “What’s the name of the church?”

  “Shut the hell up, Ollie!” the man still attached to the wall snarled.

  Azar made an exasperated sigh and stood up. She looked down at the young man. “You stay right where you are, do you understand?”

  The terror on his face was obvious. “Yes, ma’am,” he nodded.

  Azar retrieved something that looked quite modern and out of place in the environment and crooked a finger at Nikki. The two approached the man on the wall.

  “Do you want to squeeze his lips together and I’ll staple or the other way around?”

  Nikki gasped. “I want to staple.”

  Azar handed her the surgical stapler and ten m
inutes later, he was effectively silenced. Azar began whispering to Nikki and she giggled as they returned to sit down with the talkative young man.

  Azar inhaled deeply and smiled. A religious, terrified virgin. She thought. It just didn’t get any better than that.

  “Why don’t you tell me all about your pastor and his congregation,” Azar said softly, smiling. “Leave nothing out.”

  He spilt everything he knew; Azar was sure that he held nothing back.

  Twenty minutes later, Azar stood and picked up the pitcher. “You stay right where you are, young man.”

  She walked to where the groaning man hung suspended and took out a short blade. “Now, to slice the big one’s thigh open.”

  Nikki called out to her. “No, I have a better way.”

  “Really?” Azar’s brows went up.

  Nikki walked out of the room and returned with the heavy hypodermic needle, waving it with a smile.

  “Well, aren’t you the clever one?” she returned Nikki’s grin. “The teacher now learns from the student.”

  Nikki pushed the needle into the man’s femoral artery as Azar held the pitcher to catch the spurting blood. After a fashion, the man’s eyelids fluttered and, moments later, he died. Ollie closed his eyes and cried softly as he sat at the table. He looked horrified as she set the blood filled pitcher back on the table.

  “I think we messed up a bit, Azar,” Nikki frowned.

  “Hmm? How’s that.”

  “Well, yesterday I was reading some of the documents that Vanessa left in the morning room. We shouldn’t have bled him to death. It seems the punishment for the attempted murder of a vampire or committing a terrorist act against the vampire community, is death by impalement.”

  “I had no idea,” Azar turned to look at the young man sitting on the stool. He looked terrified as Nikki approached him.

  “It’s really awful. I saw it once,” she lied. “You’re suspended above a pole and then slowly lowered. It goes up your rear and your own weight gradually causes the impalement.”

  Azar gave Ollie a look of sympathy. “The pole has nothing sharp so it just kind of straightens out your large bowel as you slide down on it. Your organs get pushed aside until the pole reaches your right shoulder. Since it’s rounded, it doesn’t break through and you’re supported by the flesh on your shoulder near the collarbone,” she looked at Nikki. “How long did that one last? The one you saw?”