Low-Skilled Job [Vol. 1]

by Roger Keller

  “What are you, an exceptionally stupid highwayman? How dare you threaten me with that pathetic weapon.” Marcello shrugged off his hand-tailored sport coat, letting it fall to the gravel driveway. “You shall suffer in unspeakable torment, before I allow you to die.”

  The goons fell back behind Marcello. A cold wind blew out of nowhere. Marcello opened his shirt and produced an amulet on a thick gold chain. He spoke in what I guessed was Latin, his hand shaking with rage.

  I felt something pass by me, something with tangible weight, made of rage and malice. I was just out of reach. Marcello’s noble face fell. He screamed.

  “No, it can not be,” he said. “After all these centuries. Justinian’s Legions, Cromwell’s New Model Army, the Wehrmacht, all failed to destroy me. I will not die as easily as you may have hoped. The holy hypocrites who sent you have clearly neglected to fully prepare you-”

  “Shut the fuck up.” I rested the AK on my arm. “I’m not here to kill you.”

  Marcello smiled wickedly and knit his long fingers together. I could see the wheels turning in his head.

  “I see,” he said. “So, you were not sent by Rome, nor any of the other countless churches to be found in this country.”

  “I’m not a witch hunter,” I said. “I kill vampires.”

  “Of course. And yet there are no vampires on my property at present. So what-” He stopped cold and focused on my car. “No vampires until now. You maniac.”

  “OK, look,” I said. “I know were getting off on the wrong foot here, but I need your help.”

  “You would secure my help with armed threat. My help in dealing with a very powerful and unpredictable vampire, which is slowly degenerating into a revenant in the boot of your wretched automobile.” Shadows of the many languages he’d spoken over the years crept into his voice as he spoke.

  “That’s what I need,” I said.

  “You are a vampire hunter,” he said. “You know what to do. I will have my Praetorians fetch you some petrol. Then you may take your dismal little car off my property and burn it, with the vampire inside.”

  “Not gonna happen,” I said. “We’re going to cure her.”

  “Her.” Marcello smirked. “Tell me, are you consorting with a vampire? How delicious. You know, I myself have had carnal knowledge of all manner of entities and creatures over the centuries.”

  “Can you help, or what?” I said, feeling a little ashamed, for some reason.

  “Well, as far as returning your vampire lover to her original human state, such a thing is simply not possible,” he said. “The process of becoming a vampire permanently alters the subject.”

  Marcello looked off into the distance.

  “I participated in a series of experiments, funded by the Pentagon, during the Seventies,” he said. “We arrogantly attempted to use, what at the time was cutting edge technology, to among other things, cure or control vampirism. Though I think that our benefactors in Washington were more interested in the control part of the experiment. I was skeptical about the entire enterprise. However, I just had to see what happened. The results were predictably disastrous.”

  He motioned to his silent bodyguards.

  “Fortunately I insisted upon bringing my men,” Marcello said. “The military was criminally unprepared. The project was under the jurisdiction of both the Air Force and the Army. They constantly squabbled, yet did little to secure the facilities. I saw unshaven soldiers with only one magazine of cartridges for their rifles. They fell like wheat before the scythe when it all went wrong. Only a few of us escaped before the air-strike.”

  “I’m not talking about making her human again,” I said. “I don’t think she’d even want to go back.”

  “Why would anyone?” Marcello said, trying not to laugh.

  “We killed some revenants,” I said. “Somehow, she got infected or something.”

  Marcello’s black eyes narrowed.

  “I see,” he said. “You want me to save her from becoming a mindless revenant.”

  “Pretty much,” I said.

  “This could prove to be an interesting challenge,” he said. “I have lived for so long. There are so few things that I find interesting, these days.”

  Marcello waved his hand and the bodyguards climbed back in the Escalade.

  “I had planned on driving to the city today,” he said. “Oh well, I am sure we can come to some kind of arrangement. However, I warn you, my time and knowledge do not come cheap.”

  “I have gold,” I said.

  “So have I,” he said. “Gold and more treasure than any man, mortal or otherwise, could ever spend. No, a favor, I think there may be some small task you will complete for me.”

  “Aw shit,” I said. “I knew it would be something like that.”

  Marcello laughed. I didn’t like the word, task. It sounded like something a medieval knight would spend over a year trying to finish, only to die before he made it back to the princess.

  “What is your name?” he said.

  “Mike Ellis,” I said.

  “Well, Mr. Ellis,” he said, “follow my Cadillac and we shall see what can be done for your vampire.”

  I drove after the Escalade, with the AK resting on my lap. The gates closed behind me. I’m not sure exactly what closed them. There were no chains or gears I could see.

  Fruit trees grew across Marcello’s estate in precise rows, like soldiers in formation. The overgrown wreckage of an unmarked Boeing 707 marred the ordered landscape. I passed Dutch style windmills connected to archaic power lines. Marcello’s house grew in the distance, it’s base made up of the same massive stone blocks as the wall.

  A dozen more of Marcello’s Praetorians waited on the marble steps that led to his ornately carved front door. They held Vietnam War era M16s. I parked behind the Escalade. Marcello walked over, shielding his eyes from the setting sun.

  “Well, let us get the vampire inside,” he said. “How sensitive to sunlight is she?”

  “She’ll be fine,” I said.

  The Praetorians surrounded us and pointed their rifles at my car. I popped the trunk lid. Heather sat up and looked out through a hole in the ragged blanket.

  “What the fuck is this shit?” she said.

  “Come on.” I offered her my hand. “It’s cool.”

  “No, it’s not,” she said. “I don’t like having guns pointed at me. Fuck off.” She pushed an M16 barrel to the side. The Praetorian grunted and looked at Marcello, who waved his hand. They fell back. Heather jumped out, shielding herself from the sun with the torn blanket. “Fuckers.”

  “I am Marcello, my dear,” he said. “How do you do?”

  Heather growled. I slung the AK over my shoulder and grabbed my backpack.

  “I officially invite you into my home,” Marcello said.

  “That bullshit legend wouldn’t stop me if I really wanted in.” I could see her smiling through the ragged blanket.

  “Of that I have no doubt,” he said.

  Heather pulled the blanket off and tossed it in the open trunk. She looked Marcello over, ignoring the dying sunlight.

  “So, he’s gonna help us, huh?” she said.

  “Looks that way,” I said.

  Heather glared at the Praetorians as we climbed the steps behind Marcello. The doors opened by themselves as we got closer.

  “Impressive,” Heather said.

  *****

  We followed Marcello down a vast hallway. It had everything you’d expect in a mansion, paintings, vases, statues. Many of the statues depicted Marcello himself, in other eras. We passed over burn marks and damaged stone tiles. Human faces peered out of the arches on either side of the hall, watching us as we passed.

  “I ordered the construction of a new home just after the Civil War,” Marcello said. “Living in New York was proving to be restrictive. Renegade Confederate soldiers and dwindling native tribes were all that could be found when I arrived out here. I employed them for a time. Many of their descend
ants live in Franklin to this day.”

  “Yeah, we met those fuckers last night,” Heather said.

  Deep gouges scarred the floors. Heather nudged me and pointed out how the trail of damage stretched up the wall near a statue that had been obliterated from the knees up.

  “My research does tend to get out of hand,” he said. “Don’t worry, he is long removed from this plane.”

  Heather extended a single claw and traced one of the gouges. She smirked at me. Marcello laughed.

  “In first heard of the phenomenon of revenants, while studying in Ravenna,” Marcello said. “There was some debate as to what exactly the difference, if any, between higher vampires, who retain their intelligence and revenants, who seem to function on base instinct.”

  “Really?” Heather cocked her head and narrowed her eyes.

  “That was, of course, nearly a thousand years ago,” he said.

  Our host led us through one of the stone arches into a candlelit room. Countless books lined the walls. Bestselling fiction was shelved next to ancient leather bound tomes. Marcello took a seat by the fireplace.

  “Do you know Lee Stoner?” Marcello said to Heather. “He once went by the name of Herman Steiner. He claims territory not far from here.”

  “Yeah, we used to hang out,” Heather said.

  The Praetorians set out chairs for us. Heather spun hers around and sat backwards, resting her chin on the wooden back.

  “So, it was Lee who told you how to find me?” Marcello said.

  “Monroe told us about you, this place,” I said.

  “Monroe still exists?” Marcello’s glittering black eyes lit up. “Is he, well?”

  “I guess,” I said. “I found him digging through my dumpster. He seemed happy, though.”

  “What form did he assume, when you spoke?” Marcello said.

  “A giant mountain man, wearing bearskins.” I wondered just how much I should tell Marcello.

  “Interesting,” he said. “It was he who told you to seek my help?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “It was really lucky meeting him. Apparently there aren’t any vampires in this area who know anything useful.”

  “None since Lee arrived.” Marcello smiled at Heather, who rolled her eyes.

  “Anyway, I have this feeling that I would have found this place eventually, with or without Monroe’s help,” I said.

  “Yes hunter, I have no doubt we were bound to meet, at some point,” he said.

  A woman in a black lace nightgown appeared behind Heather. She held a silver serving tray like a shield. Heather smiled, aware of the woman without seeing her.

  “I see you have guests,” she said in a posh English accent. Her eyes were fixed on Heather with barley concealed terror.

  “This is Mike Ellis, a vampire hunter of some mercenary sort,” Marcello said. “Heather here, is a creation of Lee Stoner.”

  Heather closed a freshly clawed hand over the edge of the serving tray. I heard the hiss as her flesh burned. She pulled the tray down and smiled wolfishly at the woman.

  “May the goddess help us,” the woman said.

  Heather tilted her head back and laughed.

  “How amusing,” Marcello said. “Miranda, I know you have encountered vampires before. It seems this one has you on edge.”

  “She is not alone, maestro,” Miranda said. “Don’t you sense it?”

  “A malicious presence,” he said.

  “It surrounds her,” she said.

  Miranda held up a charm bracelet that sported every esoteric and religious symbol, from the Eye of Ra to a rainbow anodized peace symbol.

  “It is not uncommon for a demon to possess a vampire.” Marcello said. “They make excellent hosts. Some vampires even welcome the power that a demon brings them. I think this may be a case of influence rather than possession.”

  “Yes, a lesser demon follows them both,” Miranda said. “Of that I am certain.”

  “Mister Ellis tells me that you destroyed several revenants.” Marcello fixed his gaze on Heather.

  “I only got one of ‘em,” she said.

  “By what means did you dispatch the revenant?” Marcello said.

  Heather smiled and held up her claws. Miranda clutched the bracelet tighter.

  “I see,” Marcello said.

  “So the revenant I killed, he had some kind of demon, that decided to follow me around and fuck with me,” Heather said.

  “It appears so,” Marcello said.

  “The entity that follows her is not the only danger we face, maestro.” Miranda said and pointed at Heather. “This creature, I have never before encountered a vampire with such destructive potential.”

  “That’s right, you should be scared, you stuck up bit-” Heather said.

  “Enough.” Marcello waved his hand. “I think I might have a solution to this problem.”

  *****

  Marcello led the way through his archaic maze if a house. Figures joined us as we walked. They appeared out of doorways and dimly lit halls, covered head to toe in black robes. I couldn’t see their faces or even their hands. Looking back, I can’t say for sure that all of them were human.

  One of them handed Miranda a robe. She stepped out of her nightgown, right in front of me. I watched her tan, curvaceous body disappear into the black fabric. Then, when completely concealed, she fell in with the rest of the robed group.

  “I’m not wearing one of those,” Heather said.

  “We have no need of robes my dear,” Marcello said. “They are purely symbolic and serve only to protect the anonymity of our observers.”

  He looked back at them and laughed.

  “You said that you had no idea why you chose this week to visit me,” Marcello said. “I think perhaps on some level you must have known.”

  “We are grateful sir, that you have chosen to share such an opportunity with us.” A deep southern accented voice boomed from one of the hooded figures.

  “You know, if this was a movie, most of you guys would get killed in the end.” Heather walked backwards and taunted the coven.

  “And will you survive until the closing credits of this film?” Miranda’s voice came from somewhere.

  “Pretty brave now, hiding in that spooky robe?” Heather said. “Like I can’t tell which one you are. Of course I’ll make it to the end of the movie. I’m the fucking star. You weirdos are just here to bring up the body-count.”

  I looked back. The coven had slowed. They whispered to each other. Heather put her arm around me and leaned her head on my shoulder.

  “Right through here.” Marcello pushed open a set of wooden doors that marked the end of the hallway.

  I swept the darkness in front of me with the AK. Marcello pushed past me and strode triumphantly into the gloom. I could just make out his raised arms. He spoke in Latin and a series of copper braziers ignited. The faceless coven filed past me and took their places around a circle of polished black stones.

  A crescent moon was visible through the steel skeleton of a ruined dome overhead. A few jagged pieces of glass remained, jutting out of the damaged frame. I was grateful for whatever smashed the dome, since it allowed fresh autumn air into the room. The smell in there was just plain wrong.

  The room was completely round with a marble walkway along the wall. The center, where the coven waited near the stone circle, was made up of soft dark earth. The steps below me seemed to keep going, farther down into the dirt. Firelight illuminated small white objects that jutted out of the dark earth. I leaned forward and poked at one of them with the AK’s muzzle. It was part of a jawbone, a large one, with a few pointed carnivorous teeth still attached. Heather hunkered down next to me. She pulled the jawbone out of the dirt. It was even bigger than it first looked, maybe a foot long.

  “Fuck,” Heather said. “Like, what the hell did you used to be?”

  “There’s something really wrong with this place,” I said. “I mean even more than the rest of Marcello’s mansion.”
/>   “This was a pool once,” she said.

  “What?” I said.

  “This whole room, years ago it was, like, an indoor pool.” She ran her thumb over the jawbone.

  “Why would he fill in his own pool with dirt and, bones?” I said.

  Heather looked up at the steel frame above us.

  “He probably put in the dirt ‘cause it, like went with his Stonehenge rocks or something,” she said.

  “I don’t think that’s the reason,” I said.

  “Whatever, it doesn’t really matter.” Heather tossed the jawbone back to the dirt floor. “Anyway, if I don’t make it out of here, then make sure Marcello doesn’t make it either. I can tell he’s scared of you. He’s really old and powerful, but if he’s scared, then that means you can kill him.”

  She shoved the jawbone deep into the earth with her boot. Marcello was looking at us. He smiled.

  “Put a whole clip through that smug bastard’s head.” She tapped the AK. “Then waste all those weirdo’s in the robes. And while you’re at it, burn this place down.”

  “You’re gonna be fine,” I said. “I, I think I wanna tell you something.”

  “Yeah, what.” She smiled knowingly.

  “Nothing. We’ll talk about when it’s over.” I regretted those words the second they left my mouth. I swallowed hard.

  “Let’s get this over with.” She kissed me on the cheek, then walked confidently toward the stone circle.

  I sat down on the steps. There was no way in hell I was touching the unclean dirt floor. Somehow I knew larger things lay buried deeper in the loathsome soil and not all of them were completely dead.

  One of Marcello’s robed house guests poured a circle of salt around the Mini-Stonehenge. Heather stood at the center of the circle with her arms crossed.

  “So you are a vampire hunter?” a female voice, with an accent I couldn’t place, said from behind me.

  I stood, my hand closing around the AK’s wooden grip.

  “Yeah, it looks that way,” I said.

  A couple stood behind me. The man wore a tailored suit, that probably cost more than what I’d make at the call center in six months. The red haired woman wore a simple, little black dress. She seemed obscenely younger than the silver-haired man who had his arm around her slim waist.