Empire of Blood: A Dystopian Vampire Trilogy (Bundle, Boxset) (Plus Two Empire of Blood Short Stories)

by Robert S. Wilson

  "Son of a bitch," he said bitterly, looking wide-eyed at the silver threaded mess before him.

  * * *

  Ishan sat with his mouth open about to speak when he seemed to change his mind. He closed his mouth, took a deep breath, and smiled at Simon.

  "Do you know the history of this magnificent building on which we all sit, Simon?" he asked, spreading his arms out and turning his head to look from one end of the building to the other. Simon shook his head nervously.

  "No, sir, I do not," he stammered.

  "It's called," Ishan said, pausing with an air of mystique, "the Stratosphere. I wouldn't expect you to know anything about it. In fact, I would be quite surprised if you knew much of anything about this city's history at all." The rest of the vampires sat as still as if they were dead watching Ishan like he had hypnotized them.

  Simon only nodded. Indeed, he knew very little about the city's history nor did he care to know. He knew it had once been a human slush pit of sin. That was all that mattered. The righteous Empire, of whom Simon had known and loved most of his life, had done God's will using these demons he was sitting with right now to "cleanse" the city.

  "You see Simon, this building we sit atop was a source of entertainment. Not only for its breathtaking view, but for its restaurant inside, and ..." Ishan said, trailing off as he got up from his seat. Simon noticed the vampire was holding some kind of handheld electric device. Ishan pushed a button on the device and held out his arms while something huge with neon lights began to come out of the building behind him. Then the thing came to a stop and tipped downward like a huge teeter totter. When it was still, Simon noticed it was actually some sort of amusement ride. "...for its thrilling rides." Ishan said.

  Simon began to sweat profusely as the rest of the vampires at the table leapt from their seats and joined Ishan in admiring the ride.

  "This," Ishan said, pointing up at the ride he was still facing "is the X-Scream." The other vampires applauded.

  Simon felt his stomach turn again. He was beginning to think he liked Ishan much better when the vampire seemed bored and indifferent. But now, Simon had managed to unhinge him. Realizing this, Simon began to shake uncontrollably while still gripping the arms of his chair. At the very moment Simon began to shake, Ishan turned to face him. Looking directly into Simon's eyes he spoke in the same bored tone he had used earlier.

  "Peter, give Mr. Withers the time of his life."

  Peter grinned with delight.

  "Unless," Ishan said, "Mr. Withers, you can do something to help us?"

  "It's not up to me. I'm just a little pissant!" he yelled, stumbling to his feet. "Please, I don't have the power to make such arrangements!"

  Ishan’s stare darkened. "Then why are you the Mediator?" he asked and then clenched his trembling jaw. As if they had been cued, Peter and the other vampires began moving toward Simon in a slow stalking prowl. Their bodies appeared to be shivering. Simon was starting to wonder if it was really blood these particular vampires lusted after and not pure fear. He looked at them as they crept up to him. He knew it was pointless but his body decided it was time to go. He turned and ran with all of his might, faster than he had probably ever run his whole life. Within fifteen feet, several blurs flashed in front of him. Before his brain could process that each blur had been a vampire, he was looking up at the sky and then down at his legs dragging on the concrete floor. He could only manage to keep his head turned far enough for a split second, but he recognized that Peter was the one dragging him. He could see the others at Peter's side out of the corner of his eyes as he slid along behind them. Scared and exhausted, he didn't have the strength or determination to fight.

  Simon felt himself rise into the air and watched the stars grow long glowing tails as Peter flung him down into the front seat of the X-Scream. As he sat there helpless, being strapped into an amusement ride at the top of a skyscraping tower by a vampire, Simon caught a glimpse of Ishan back at the table. The head vampire sat there like a statue leaning to his right. Even though he was seeing Ishan from behind, Simon could tell from the way his arm held up his head that he was in deep thought. He could hear several plops as the other vampires sat down in the seats behind him. Peter, however, positioned himself in front of Simon, facing him, by wedging himself between Simon's seat and the nose of the ride.

  The last thought Simon had as the ride began creeping forward was that vampires were truly absurd. A moment later the ride shot forward and down as Simon felt his body thrown back against the chair. He was sure this was what it felt like to crash a plane from the pilot's point of view. The motion only lasted a few seconds, but felt like eternity, as the vampires shouted out with excitement. Then the ride came to its furthest forward point and stopped, causing the seat belt holding Simon to jerk at his body. Simon screamed out in pain. Peter held onto Simon's seat and smiled down at him with his fangs visible, hardly showing any effects from the jolt.

  "Don't you understand, Simon?" Peter yelled over the cheering of the other vampires. "We don't want to negotiate with a peon like you!" Peter's expression became serious for the first time. "We want to get things done and we can't do that with someone we can't respect!" The ride began to rise until Simon could feel his equilibrium come back and then it jerked again. Then smooth, cold hands slid down and back up Simon’s chest. A female voice he knew to be Rachel's whispered into his ear.

  "You see, Simon, you Mediators are all alike," she said in a hiss. "So proud and righteous. So slick and slithery," she continued, her pitch and volume rising. "So weak and useless!" she screamed full on into his ear.

  Silence filled Simon’s left side as he felt blood run down the side of his face from his ear. Before he could even make the connection Rachel began to lick the blood from his face like a cat lapping up milk. As she licked up closer to his ear, her fangs lightly grazed his earlobe, exciting him in more than one way at the same time. She seemed to sense his arousal and immediately acted upon it. She began sliding her hand down his chest slowly. Then his stomach. She groped at the bulge in his crotch. He closed his eyes in a mixture of revulsion and pleasure.

  As she did this, she began sliding her fangs from his ear along his cheek sideways. This increased his excitement for reasons he could not begin to understand. He could tell he was starting to get close. She lifted her head from his and smiled at him as if she could tell as well. He was so mesmerized with ecstasy that he forgot all about his inhibitions, his religious zeal, and his righteous Empire. He even pretended he didn't enjoy Peter standing there watching.

  When he was on the very verge of climax, she pulled her hand away and in a blur of movement she punched him in the shoulder. It snapped loudly as Simon felt every nerve in his body relocate. Half went to his crotch and the other half into his collar bone, where they burst into agony. He screamed in a high pitch his vocal chords had never hit before. Peter burst out laughing. Then, at that very moment, the ride began to lean backward slowly. Within a few seconds, it was shooting backward. Simon's body pushed against the harness, causing him more pain than his body could withstand. Everything began to fade including the pain. Then Simon went into a warm, dark abyss.

  When he woke up, Simon was sitting in the chair he was first offered upon arriving. The pain in his shoulder was gone and he could hear someone talking to him from both of his ears. He opened his eyes and saw the vampires all sitting where they had been earlier.

  "My, sh-shoulder. It's not broken... and my ear. I can hear. Wha-what did you do?" he asked frantically. The vampires all looked at him with curious expressions.

  "I'm afraid, I don't know what you're talking about, Simon," Ishan said. "Peter, Rachel, do you know what Mr. Withers is speaking of?"

  "No, I haven't the slightest clue," Peter said and smirked.

  "Neither have I," Rachel added, smiling.

  Then, all of their faces became serious.

  "Why would we do such things to our dear, sweet Mediator?" Ishan asked in his dull drone.

/>   "Besides, the blood pact forbids it," Peter said, and all of the vampires except Ishan convulsed with laughter. Ishan, however, did manage a slight grin.

  "Our business is through, Mediator," Ishan said with a strong overtone of rage.

  "Oh, thank God." Simon whispered, putting his hands up to his face as if to pray. "But wait," he said, dropping his hands to his side. "We haven't even negotiated anything. Nothing has been accomplished."

  "As always," Ishan said. He looked at Simon, blankly. For a split second, Simon saw Ishan’s face change into a scowl and then back to normal. It happened so fast, Simon wasn't even sure what he had just seen was real. He picked that moment to get up. None of the vampires moved to stop him. With a flash of movement and a gust of wind, Luciano was at Ishan's side, leaning over and whispering into his ear. Simon pushed his chair in, turned, and began to walk toward the door. He heard nothing at all until he was about six feet from the door.

  "It appears there is still one more convict loose within the city. Peter, please escort Mr. Withers back to his car," Ishan said. Simon felt his knees go weak. In an instant, Peter moved in front of him, holding the door open for him. Something about the look on Peter's face brought Simon back to himself. He flooded with anger. He was no longer relieved that his shoulder and his ear were fine. He wanted to prove these demons had hurt him. Maybe then the Empire, his beloved Empire, would stamp out this abomination once and for all.

  "After you, Simon," Peter said, still holding the door. Then he winked, making sure to show his fangs as well. Simon stomped through the open door and headed across the large round room for the elevator he’d come up in. Before Simon was halfway there, Peter stood next to the elevator with his hands behind his back, the elevator down button already lit up. When Simon arrived within a few strides of the elevator door, he heard it "ding" and then open just in time for him to step in. Once inside and facing the elevator door, Peter accompanied him and hit the ground button. So far, it seemed Peter was behaving himself.

  But then, the elevator door closed and he seemed to disappear. Simon jumped. He turned to check behind himself. There was nothing there. He turned again to make sure Peter was not moving with him. Then, he backed toward the rear of the elevator. When he was against the back of the elevator, he noticed movement and heard a whistle above him. He looked up to find Peter hanging from the ceiling of the elevator, crouched as if to strike. His feet were burrowed into the gray ceiling tiles. His fangs dripped saliva as he smiled down at Simon. Peter’s irises seemed to be colorless now.

  "I'm not going to hurt you, Simon," Peter said, widening his grin as he spoke. Then, his expression changed to false fear and he said "I wouldn't dare break the blood pact," while moving his index finger back and forth as if correcting a naughty child. Then, his body seemed to twist into a blur of motion and the light went out. A second later, Simon heard a hissing to his immediate right, so he ran toward the left side of the elevator. The hissing moved in front of him, so he stumbled back to where he had been. An instant later, he felt a slight touch against his cheek and this spooked him even more, causing him to jump toward the front of the elevator. He looked up, trying to find the digital display, but it seemed to be out as well. Then, he felt just enough of a gentle push to the back of his knees to send him falling backwards.

  He cringed, waiting for the impending collision with the floor. Instead, he landed on what felt like two cold fleshy poles. The door opened and light enveloped the elevator as the two fleshy poles revealed themselves to be Peter’s arms. Peter lifted Simon without effort and threw him out of the elevator. Simon landed right on his feet, sharp pain shooting up his ankles. Before he could turn and complain, Peter was in front of him holding the glass door open. Simon gritted his teeth fiercely and marched toward the door. He could see a look of suspense in Peter's stature as the vampire stood holding the door. When Simon walked through, he felt a gust of air and looked back to where Peter had been to see the door slowly sway backward and close with no sign of Peter. When he turned back to look forward, Peter's face was a mere centimeter from his own.

  "Boo!" Peter said and laughed. Then he moved a few feet away from Simon in a swift movement. "I promise, I promise, I'll stop. I've had my fun," he said with a grin.

  This neither comforted nor calmed Simon. He began walking briskly down the sidewalk he knew led back to the welcome sign and the Empire-assigned car. After a moment, he noticed Peter walking alongside him, watching him with a smile. They walked on, stepping over miscellaneous pieces of brick and metal here and there. He could see the car. It looked like a toy off in the distance. As he angled his walking to adjust for the curve in the road, he felt a vibration from within his pocket. He reached in and pulled out his cell phone. The small digital display said Ted Chambers. He pecked angrily at the green answer button on the phone and slammed it to his ear.

  "Simon, how is it going?" Ted asked, trying to sound cheerful.

  "How is it going?" Simon repeated. "I'll tell you how it's going! These monsters are... are.. are.. horrible!" he yelled into the phone. "They have insulted me, corrupted me, terrorized me, and without even allowing me the ability to actually do the job I was sent here to do!"

  "Simon, are you still in the city?" Ted asked in an urgent tone.

  "Yes I'm still in the city, I'm almost back to the car!" he said, continuing to vent his trauma. "These vile creatures have done things to me I—"

  Ted interrupted him. "Be careful, Simon, don't do anything rash. There could be serious cons—"

  "I'll be careful, all right!" Simon shouted. "I'll be careful. In fact I won't need to be careful anymore..."

  "Simon, wait!"

  "...because I quit!" Simon barked, slamming the cell phone against his leg. He heard his own voice echoing the words "I quit" off of the surrounding buildings. Then he felt a breeze and looked around to notice Peter was standing completely still with a look on his face Simon had not yet seen him make. Peter no longer looked at him playfully. He had a look of curious interest. Like a cat when it looks at a mouse.

  "So, Mr. Withers, you are no longer Mediator to Necropolis?" Peter asked, showing way more enthusiasm than Simon could understand.

  "Yes, I quit! I will not suffer such outrageous blasphemy and torture!" He yelled full on in Peter's face. The reaction from Peter was not what Simon expected. Peter stood silently, a grin stretching across his face. Then, he broke out in an uproar of laughter to the point of tears streaming down his face. Simon didn't understand and became even angrier, grinding his teeth together in fury. This only seemed to renew Peter's ongoing fit of howling. Then, after a few more minutes of guffawing, Peter leaned forward trying to catch his breath.

  "Oh, that is just great," he said in a high-pitched voice still tingling with humor. "So, you are no longer Mediator protected lawfully by the Empire, Simon?" he asked and gave another chuckle.

  "Yes, that's exactly what I - wait, no, what do you mean? I'm still protected, why wouldn't I be protected?" he cried desperately. Then came the distant sound of an engine starting. He turned to see the Empire-assigned car turning around and then driving away. Then, he swallowed and turned to look at Peter. Peter was no longer laughing. He straightened up and arched forward, his irises darkening to black, and his chin pulling backwards as his mouth opened to make way for his fangs.

  "Only the Mediator is protected. If you are no longer Mediator and within our city then by our blood pact with the Emperor, you are now ours for the taking and no one will hear your screams," Peter said in a deep, growling voice. The next second Simon screamed as he felt his back slam against a wall and Peter's fangs tear into his throat. Then, slowly, the world fluttered dizzily away.

  * * *

  But Peter had lied. He knew that it was possible, somewhere out there in the city, someone could hear Simon's screams. In fact, he was counting on it. Because, once he was finished draining every last drop of fiery, self-righteous blood from Simon Withers, Peter had a job to do. There was still one
convict loose in the city and Ishan expected Peter to take care of this. Within his mild statement was a charge. "Finish this loose marauder before the dawn or be prepared to lose your place on the council."

  It had already been hanging in the balance, his place on the council. He had angered Ishan far too much in recent times. Peter tightened in ecstasy as he imagined the blood he was consuming from Simon's throat was actually Ishan's. What he wouldn't give to take Ishan’s place and drink his blood. To quicken himself with the old vampire's heart while it was still beating. But he knew he needed more time. He would first have to find this convict and prove he still deserved his place among the others. Then, when he was back in their good graces, when Ishan least expected it, he would strike. With this thought, he stood up triumphantly, holding Simon's limp body close. Then with a flick of his head, he threw the thing that was once Simon down onto the sidewalk where it landed, crumpled against the brick wall of the building. Then, he hunched down and opened up his senses. It wasn't hard with fresh blood in him. Always the blood would heighten his senses to the point of becoming almost maddeningly sensitive. He heard a rat scurry exactly 1.7 kilometers away. He knew it headed south at slightly less than a fourth of a mile an hour. He turned toward the west focusing all his senses and immediately heard the quick beating of a human heart. Then before he could hold back his amplified hearing the sound of the human's voice tore through his ears.