Fall Prey: The Hunt

by Dallas Massey

  Greaves turned back toward the prisoner.

  “I knew we had us a smart one,” he said with a smirk. Greaves humored Desmond despite his insolence as he stepped in close. “Here’s the thing about the Legion.” He whispered into the vampire’s ear. ”The moment yuh join, your life ain’t ever gonna be the same. Huntin’ n’ killin’ bloodsuckers is dangerous business, and death rates are always high, as you might imagine. We always expect to be taken out by you vamps one day. It’s all just part of the job. That’s one of the reasons why they sometimes call us the Phantom Legion. Death means nothing to us!”

  “Aren’t you concerned about the welfare of your men?” Desmond was undeterred by Greaves’s words. “You can say what you want about vampires, but at least we take care of our own!”

  “Oh, trust me, there will be consequences for you if you’ve been a’ lyin’ to us bloodsucker!” Greaves’ anger brewed up anew, his voice sounding as though he might consider taking Desmond’s life after all.

  One of the hellhound handlers passed by the line of soldiers with one of the hounds in tow as the commander spoke. Asher turned his head to see it was Garm. It was difficult to miss his pitch-black coloration, bright, haunting eyes, and multiple scars. The pupils of the hound’s yellow-green eyes dilated, and his nostrils flared the instant he caught the scent of his mortal enemy.

  The dog lunged sideways toward the vampire, violently dragging his handler along with him.

  “Hold it, boy!” yelled the handler. He dug his heels into the asphalt just to keep the colossal animal at bay, only slowing Garm down for all his effort.

  The hound continued to move forward, though at a crawl. Asher wasn’t sure how much longer the handler could maintain his hold until the dog broke free and went for the Desmond.

  “Oh, I suppose you haven’t met Garm.” Greaves chuckled. ”He’s one of our new vampire huntin’ hellhounds. We’re pretty proud of this one. Just been racking up the kills since his first operation. So good at it I’m thinkin’ we might have to give him an official rank. Sure loves runnin’ you vamps down and then ripping you all apart!”

  Desmond had no retort for the commander this time. He was preoccupied with Garm, fear plastered all over his face as the hound struggled against the leash, continuing toward him.

  The massive beast had worked himself into a frenzy, foamy saliva dripping from his mouth between rabid snarls, repeatedly lunging forward as he pulled his handler along through the line of personnel. Several soldiers quickly moved out of the way, allowing the hound to cross through their line as he drew closer to the vampire. No one wanted to be between such a massive, enraged animal and his intended victim.

  “Ah, and here I go a’ ramblin’ on about the dang dogs!” exclaimed Greaves, putting an open palm up to his forehead for exaggerated effect. “It’s just so great to have ‘em. Really reduces the workload. Anyway, I think before I go take my men out to see this Surgeon feller, I’m gonna recommend to High Commander Witchburn that she hands yuh over to Garm to be his own personal chew toy!”

  “Would you like that, boy!” Greaves walked toward Garm, squatting to address the hound, though at a safe distance away. “Oh, I just knew you would! Now, who’s Daddy’s bloodthirsty little puppy?”

  Garm’s snarls only grew louder due to the commander’s taunts, the rage in his eyes directed at Desmond. Asher was sure the hound might have bitten the commander if he were any closer

  “So, ah, yuh think yuh might need to make some changes to the information yuh gave us?” Greaves rose to his feet and walked back towards Desmond, placing a hand on the vampire’s shoulder. “Any changes at all?” he asked again, nearly at a whisper.

  Desmond wordlessly shook his head no, somehow able to remain calm despite his fear of the approaching, heavily enraged hound.

  “Well, for your sake, I hope you are,” said Greaves. ”Make it so much easier on yuh when it comes time to kill you!”

  Desmond remained silent, ignoring the commander’s attempt to unnerve him. Asher was sure it took all the vampire had not to react to Greaves’ comment.

  “Oh, I forgot, we’ll be takin’ you with us on the operation.” Greaves paused for dramatic effect.

  Desmond’s pupils dilated as he opened his mouth to protest.

  Greaves turned and slapped a gloved hand over the vampire’s mouth, careful to mind his fangs, before continuing. “That way, we can get our intel straight from the vamp’s filthy mouth and in real-time. Be right under my direction with Garm there the whole time. Just one false or misremembered direction, and we’ll be feeding you to him!” Greaves removed his hand from the vampire’s face.

  Desmond remained silent, rendered incapable of any further protest. Instead, he gave Greaves a highly agitated and flabbergasted look.

  The commander turned away from the captured vampire and brought his attention back to Garm, who continued to drag his handler toward the intended prey.

  The hound appeared demon-possessed, his eyes alive with red-hot rage and bloodlust, saliva frothing from his mouth as he snarled and howled. Asher was grateful the hounds only had eyes for non-human prey.

  “Call off your beast!” Desmond screamed, his fear renewed. He sounded as though he were in danger of wetting himself.

  “Ah, yuh ‘sure yuh don’t wanna meet him?” Greaves teased.

  “Call him off!” Desmond shrieked. “I may be a filthy bloodsucker, but I don’t deserve to be eaten alive!”

  “Hmm… That’s funny. I really thought yuh’d get along just fine, yuh know, being kindred spirits and all. I suppose I really ought to humor you, now that you’re gonna be the high commander’s new pet rat.”

  Greaves turned around to face the line of soldiers, his eyes resting on Asher.

  “Blackthorn! Come over here and help ‘em with this hound! We don’t want ‘em a’ tearing apart our new most valuable commodity before we’re through with ‘em”

  “Yes, sir!” said Asher. He slung his weapon around his back as he sprinted after the animal and handler.

  “Don’t yuh worry none.” Greaves turned back to Desmond. “We’ll take good care of you.”

  His sinister grin made Desmond wince.

  Chapter XXV

  Life’s Greatest Illusion

  Imani placed a hand over her growling stomach, hesitant to open her eyes, as she awoke back into a world of tortured howls, snarls, and screams, back in the crimson-lit holding tank. She remained there on the ground, ignoring her hunger and the horrors around her. She knew her jailers would likely come back soon.

  Imani reached out, finding her brother, Isaac, lying beside her, still asleep, still safe. She pulled her hand back slowly, not wanting to chance waking him. Sleep offered them a rare respite from reality, granting them a period of liberation from their waking nightmare.

  Eyes still closed, Imani wrinkled her nose, finding the stench of the cavern as repulsive as ever. The smell of excrement wafted through the air. Some of the less intelligent animals relieved themselves right on the bare ground. The rest had their own toilets, which amounted to plastic waste buckets in the corner. Regardless, the floors were always filthy, and the waste receptacles only occasionally dumped.

  Imani sat up, sore from the hard floor, unable to lie there any longer. She rubbed her eyes, keeping them closed as long as she could before finally opening them. The red light overpowered her vision.

  Imani frowned. The smell and the floor didn’t lie. They were still in the holding area, still in their pen, kept there like livestock. It didn’t matter how much she wished otherwise. Imani had no idea how long she slept. The unchanging light conditions and sedatives horrendously distorted her perception of time.

  Imani looked to her right, into the pen where they kept the lab dogs. She found the barking culprit immediately. The specimen was similar to a German shepherd in build but lacked hair, displaying bone-white skin and light, marble-blue eyes.

  The dog barked again, trotting toward the fence away from the large
group of dogs in the pen, tail wagging. The animal would have seemed horrifying to anyone new to the holding area. His hairless skin and sickly appearance outweighed his friendly attitude.

  Imani was happy for the lane between their pen and the dogs. She smirked and looked back toward Isaac’s sleeping form. She remembered how much he wanted to pet the dogs in the beginning. Imani had reminded him numerous times that it was unwise to pet any animal they did not know, especially one from the holding area. Their mother always told them to be careful around strange dogs.

  Mother.

  Imani had had a brief glance at her parents’ corpses that night. She saw their mutilated bodies through the darkness, and the gruesome images seared into her memory. This was the first time she had thought, or even dreamed, about her parents since the abduction due to the effects of the frequently administered sedatives.

  A feeling of immense sadness rushed over her now, drowning out all other thoughts, causing her to begin sobbing. She was careful to keep the noise down. The keepers would eventually be back to give them their next round of sedatives, and she did not want to hasten their return.

  Tears rolled from Imani’s eyes like thick, globular raindrops, saturating the front of her examination gown as she cried into her lap. Her murdered parents and the hopelessness of her situation bore down on her like a great stone block. She was alone with her pain, her sleeping brother her only comfort.

  Imani looked up from her lap some time later, unsure how long she had cried. She sobbed until she was no longer able, depleting her supply of tears. The searing, nauseating agony was reduced to a throbbing ache, one absorbed back inside for the moment.

  Imani turned to her left, toward the other pens, desperate to find anything that might take her mind from her grief. It was an impossible task in this wretched place. She smiled, wiping her tears, delighted by what she found.

  The pen across the lane, moved overnight, now sat directly against theirs. Several hundred woven-wire cages, stacked nearly to the ceiling, filled the place. Each contained a single white rabbit, the crimson light coloring the animals pink.

  Imani sighed, trying not to giggle, finding how the rabbits wrinkled their noses and bounced around in their cages amusing. She slowly rose to her feet, cautiously venturing over to the corner of her pen to take a closer look. She stood at the edge, her arms folded upon the top of their pen as she peered into the cage of a particular rabbit. Imani put what her mother had told her into the back of her mind.

  The rabbit gazed at her through calm, black eyes as it chewed a bit of celery. Surely, no harm would come from touching such a gentle creature.

  Imani reached through the bars of the pen and into the cage, straining as she tried to touch the animal.

  “I wouldn’t pet him.”

  A pale, clawed hand grabbed her wrist.

  “I’m sure he bites.”

  Imani looked up to see a porcelain-skinned, shorthaired woman clutch her hand, pulling it away from the cage.

  The rabbit, if that was even what it was, opened its mouth to reveal a shark-like maw with row after row of tiny, razor-sharp teeth. The miniature horror screamed, lunging at the side of the cage, biting at the bars. Saliva fell from its mouth in large globs as it tried in vain to attack.

  “That’s gross.”

  Another woman appeared, disgusted by the predatory rabbit. She stood back near the edge of Imani and Isaac’s pen. She had long hair but was otherwise identical in appearance to the first, both pale-skinned and dark-haired, dressed in black leather clothing.

  “Just another freakin’ day in this crap-soaked place,” said the male vampire following behind. He rolled a large flatbed trolley past the second woman, two human-sized carriers placed on the transport bed. His physical appearance and clothing were similar to that of the first two vampires, so much so that he could be their brother.

  “Those things are freakin’ nasty. What does the boss want with them anyway?” The man stopped to frown at the rabbits, forgetting his previous complaint.

  “I have no idea,” said the second woman, shaking her head.

  “We finally found the carriers, Anoura.” The man spoke to the first woman, taking a last look at the rabbit. “The boss needs to do something about that supply room. It’s a wreck in there.” He turned back around and grinned awkwardly at Anoura.

  She glared back at him, expecting him to do something other than stand there. “What are you doing?” Anoura asked impatiently. “Stop gawking around and get in that pen.”

  “Here we are.” The man stepped around the trolley and picked up one of the carriers, casually throwing it into the pen. The large container landed only a couple of feet from where Isaac slept.

  “And here we are.” He tossed the second carrier into the pen, hitting the woven metal fence.

  “What are you doing tossing them in there like that, Luther?” the longhaired woman asked. “We need to keep them on the cart.” She stepped down the lane at the right, leaning over as she unlocked the gate.

  “The Surgeon will be displeased if we hurt his specimens.” Mara frowned up at Luther. “Don’t you remember? We had to get them special for him a few months ago, when we started here.”

  “Be careful with that gate,” Luther mocked, leaning on the trolley’s handle to look over at her. “They might try to make a run for it. We wouldn’t want something so precious escaping, now would we?”

  “And if they do, we will have no trouble catching them.” The woman’s eyes narrowed as her voice took on an edge. “They are only children.”

  “Whatever you say, Mara,” Luther spoke through gritted teeth.

  “Let’s end the bickering now,” Anoura hissed. “Set those carriers back onto the trolley.”

  “Yes, Anoura.” Luther gave her an apologetic grin as he pulled the trolley backward and toward the right.

  Mara held the gate open, following Luther into the pen after he pushed the trolley through. She handed the gate off to Anoura, who entered and made a b-line for Imani.

  “What’s your name?” Anoura smiled as she squatted down to look her in the eye, displaying a set of gleaming white fangs.

  Mara and Luther picked up the large carriers and placed them back on the trolley before beginning the unnecessarily long process of opening the wire doors.

  “My name’s Imani,” she responded, though without understanding what the vampire’s angle could be. She didn’t want to talk to her any longer than was necessary.

  “Hello, Imani. My name is Anoura.” She put a pale, clawed hand on her shoulder. “Is that your brother over there?” She pointed toward the sleeping boy.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Imani’s voice was bland. She tired of them asking her that question.

  “Ooh, what lovely manners.” The woman smiled at her again, her demeanor overly pleasant and fake. “What’s your brother’s name?”

  “Isaac.” Imani wished Anoura would just read the names printed on their hospital bracelets.

  “Lovely.” Anoura removed her hand and stood up. “Can you please wake Issac up for us?”

  “Why?” asked Imani. She didn’t understand why they couldn’t just pick her brother up and shove him in the carrier. They tended to be very forceful in everything else they did.

  “We need you to get into the carriers,” Anoura explained. “We need to take you someplace else. Someplace better, where nasty rabbits won’t bite you.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” A hint of enthusiasm entered Imani’s voice. Few places could be worse than the holding area.

  She turned away from Anoura and rushed to where Isaac slept.

  “Isaac, wake up!” She grabbed her brother by the arm and shook him.

  “What?” He sounded tired and was unwilling to open his eyes.

  “Wake up.” She continued to shake him. “They’re taking us somewhere else! Someplace better! Come on. We just have to get in the carrier.”

  “Ahh… I don’t wanna get in there.” He batted her away.

  �
��Come on! The lady promised it would be better!” Imani shouted. “You can go back to sleep there!”

  “Well, OK.” Isaac balled his hands into fists and rubbed his eyes, then rose to his feet at last. Imani was relieved that he had decided to comply.

  “Hurry it up, kiddies!” Luther stood beside the trolley and snarled, showing his fangs. “We don’t have all day, and I’m beginning to get the munchies!”

  Mara remained on the other side of the trolley, angst and frustration written across her face.

  “Come on, Isaac, let’s go!” Imani shouted before running for the trolley and jumping inside her carrier.

  Isaac followed her and quickly climbed into the carrier beside her. They both knew how their jailers could react when they didn’t comply.

  “That’s better,” said Luther, slamming the carrier doors shut. “You might want to be more compliant in the future!” He leaped in front of the cages, fangs and claws prominently displayed, a look of crazed hunger in his eyes.

  “Ahhhhh!” Imani shrieked.

  “Cut it out, Luther!” Anoura slapped him on the shoulder and pulled him back up. “There is no need to scare them like that!”

  “Oh, sorry, Anoura.” Luther held his hand up to his forehead. “You know how slim the rations are in this place. I just started to lose it. I feel so hungry.”

  “You only have to stick it out a little longer,” Anoura reassured him. “As soon as we bring The Surgeon his specimens, we can take our daily rations.”

  “Better get a move on,” said Mara as she moved to reopen the gate. “I’m beginning to get hungry myself.”

  “Here we go.” Luther took hold of the trolley handle and pushed it back through the gate.

  * * *

  The trio of black-clad individuals made their way down the craggy, stone-sided hallway, bathed in blood-red light, on their way to The Surgeon’s office. Luther continued to push the trolley, and the children remained silent in their carriers, both put off by how often their keepers spoke of their hunger.