by J. Thorn
One human managed to escape. He raced out of one of the rooms, leaving his companions behind. He panted, fighting for every breath as he sprinted away from Serafino and his minions.
Serafino held his soldiers in place.
He allowed the man to reach the end of the hallway before focusing on him.
The man froze.
Serafino took his time walking down the hallway. As he passed each room, he listened to the whimpering humans inside. When he finally reached the man at the end of the hall, he blocked out all of the others. Beads of sweat crawled down the man’s forehead. His lips trembled, soft whimpers escaping them. Serafino ran the back of his fingertips down the man’s neck. He grabbed the man’s t-shirt next, and tore it from his body. Serafino trailed his finger down the man’s muscled chest.
Serafino’s eyes illuminated the man’s face. He was young, perhaps no more than twenty years old. A pity to waste such youthful power.
He moved in closer, his nose brushing against the young man’s nose as Serafino inhaled, taking in the musky, raw scent.
“W-what the hell are you?” the man asked.
Serafino could have prevented the young man from speaking, but that wouldn’t have been any fun. He wanted to hear the tremble in his voice. To feel more of his pain.
“What are you doing to me? Why can’t I move?”
Serafino didn’t respond. He simply stared into the young man’s frightened eyes. He reached up and caressed the human’s cheek, extending his long fingers and then grabbing hold of his head.
“Stop! What’s happening? Please! Let me—”
The man stopped talking mid-sentence. His eyes rolled back in their sockets.
Serafino had penetrated the man’s mind. He was inside, searching for the most cherished thoughts. Searching the young man’s nightmares for his greatest fears.
A girl. A blonde. One that you cannot have. Masturbation.
A bully who picked on you in middle school.
Another woman. Older. Mother? Dead of cancer. You saw her die. Held her close as she shriveled away.
Mangled vehicles. Small car under a freight truck. It’s Jeff, your best friend. He didn’t die on impact. He suffered. Pinned under steel for an hour.
Dying young.
Fear.
This is it, Matthew?
Serafino withdrew his hand and stepped backward. Matthew’s pupils reappeared, and he stared into Serafino’s eyes.
The vampire’s eyes glowed brighter. Matthew’s grew larger.
“Jeff?”
Serafino projected an image into the man’s mind. He showed him the car wreck which had taken his best friend. But now, the man’s friend stepped out of the car and walked toward him.
“You’re alive,” said Matthew as Serafino turned and waved the other soldiers forward. They could all feast on the boy’s painful memories. “I watched you die. I carried your casket.”
He didn’t have the time or luxury to turn every human he encountered in this way. But he would indulge with this fit, handsome young man. Serafino watched as the hallucination began to slip away from Matthew and the realization returned. His best friend was still dead.
The man screamed, and that was when the powerful vampire initiated the change.
Matthew’s eyes slowly took on the same orange tint as Serafino’s and the others. Within moments, the humanity had been drained from Matthew.
The new vampire stared wide-eyed at his master. He snarled.
Serafino smiled. “Run along and join your new brothers and sisters.”
The new vampire turned around and hurried to join the rest of the hunting band that would continue moving through the hotel. Serafino stepped to the side and looked at the ceiling, sensing more rooms on the floors above, teeming with prey.
He had an army to build for the faction and little time to do it.
Chapter 21
Shenzhen, China
A few weeks earlier…
Jing hated the Chinese. But his power and influence made life in Shenzhen just a bit more tolerable. He sat in the middle of his room on his solid white area rug. He wore a white, silk robe. The walls had been painted white. White linens covered his bed.
The leader of the Chinese Vampire Collective (CVC) had an obsession. Forced to live a life as a Japanese ex-pat and primarily in the shadows, he was enthralled by the light. He kept the room illuminated with the brightest LED lights he could find, and he had trained to not only adapt to the light, but to thrive with it.
His legs were crossed. His elbows rested on his knees. As leader of the Asian faction, and ruling from within the world’s biggest vampire collective, he rarely had time to let his mind wander. Jing instead dealt with a constant stream of mental chatter, as he was in constant command of his minions. So whenever he could steal a few moments for himself, Jing meditated. At first, he’d thought the practice was nothing but a ridiculous human trick—a way for people to clear their minds of the stress caused by their pathetic lives. He’d never thought something so simple could work for a vampire. But after trying it for the first time, Jing had acknowledged the benefits.
On this day, his mind had been as still as a deep lake when the door to his chamber opened. Jing ignored the new presence in the room, keeping his mind focused on nothing. But it turned out to be futile. He could not ignore the other vampire—Ren was his name. Jing remained cross-legged on the floor, his eyes still closed. Ren fell to his knees, a sharp pain in his undead heart.
How dare you enter my living quarters unannounced during my time of solitary reflection? Jing asked of the vampire telepathically.
Ren fell forward onto his hands, going down on all fours. Jing could feel his suffering. The spell had been one he’d learned as a boy in Japan—one that had originated beneath the suicide forest that the humans called Aokigahara. His master had called the spell Tojikome raremashita, and it made a vampire’s heart feel as though it had been locked inside of a silver box—it was one of the most devastating spells in Jing’s arsenal.
Speak! Jing commanded.
The lowly vampire panted. “M-master. I apologize.” He groaned. “I-I was called to c-come here and inform you that w-we have found the engineer. The one you requested.”
“She is here?” Jing spoke out loud now, and in Chinese. Their language always felt so crude and barbaric on his lips.
“Y-yes, Master.”
Jing opened his eyes. It only took a moment for them to adjust to the bright lights.
“Where?”
Ren fell forward onto his stomach and rolled onto his back. He clutched his chest and coughed.
“Where!”
“In the control room!” Ren’s face had turned from red to purple, and he had begun bleeding from the ears. “E-everyone is awaiting you so that we can proceed with your will, my Master.”
Jing closed his eyes again. His plan was in motion—he could feel the world in his grasp. He made a fist with his right hand, and as he tightened it, he intensified the Tojikome raremashita around Ren’s heart. The vampire screamed. Jing tightened his fist a bit more before opening it completely. Ren groaned as he rolled on the floor, clutching his chest.
“Leave my chamber at once,” Jing said. “I will come to the control room when I am ready.”
“Y-yes, Master.” Ren rolled onto his stomach and dragged himself to his feet. Still holding his chest, he lumbered through the door as the blood dripped from his ears and onto Jing’s pristine white carpet.
“And if you enter my living quarters again as you have this time, you will be begging for me to kill you. The Tojikome raremashita will have felt like a deep muscle massage compared to your eternal death.”
“I understand, Master.” Ren shut the door.
Jing closed his eyes again, shifting back into his meditative pose.
He grinned.
It will all be mine.
Jing had had the CVC compound converted from what had once been a 70,000-square foot warehouse. With thirty-
foot ceilings and no windows, the industrial space made the perfect headquarters. Jing had divided the complex into two stories, and the warehouse had been sub-divided into living quarters, meeting spaces, and control rooms. The place even had a prison on the second level where the vampires could keep humans captive.
And Jing had nearly a third of the top level to himself. Other than The White Room, the Asian faction Master had three other bedchambers. He also had his own dining hall with a table large enough to seat twenty. Vampires didn’t eat around a table like humans, of course, so the room was more for show than anything practical—Jing had a certain obsession with the human race, and especially with the wealthy. Rich men had elaborate dining halls with more seating than one could ever need, so why shouldn’t the world’s most powerful vampire?
Half an hour after the visit from Ren, Jing exited The White Room. He’d changed into a white suit, complete with matching shoes and tie. He kept his short black hair spiked, and his complexion remained as smooth as that of a child.
As he walked down the corridor, his followers bowed. These working-class vampires did not speak—he forbade it until they had earned the right.
The vampires had embedded the control room in the middle of the second level. Two guards stood at the door, and they parted and kneeled as Jing approached. He pushed on, ignoring the two obedient servants.
When he entered, all of those inside dropped down to one knee. Jing scanned the round room, unfazed by the gesture.
“Rise,” he said.
They did, and Jing focused on the massive display encompassing the entire north wall as the programmers went back to work at their stations. Humans manned most of the computers. Over time, Jing had gathered some of the most brilliant technical minds in all of Asia. He had been forced to keep them human, as turning them would have wasted their brilliant minds. It took time for a vampire to develop this level of intelligence, and though Jing had all of the time in the world as an immortal, he hadn’t the patience. So he had lured the humans in, promising them fortunes beyond their imaginations. Several of the workers had families. The vampire had assured them that their families would be cared for and protected—all of it a lie. Jing did keep them alive, but they were not permitted to leave his compound. He’d discovered early on that men who had their families murdered did not make the best employees.
Men and women typed furiously at the keyboards, while one of Jing’s best soldiers stood next to a captured human. The blindfolded woman shook in the chair—her pale legs quivering beneath a short black skirt. Her thin, sleek form had not gone unnoticed by Jing.
“Is this her, Seyana?” Jing asked his First Lieutenant.
“Yes, Master,” Seyana said.
“Remove her blindfold.”
Seyana tore the black bandana from the woman’s face. She cried while staring blankly into Jing’s orange eyes.
“Please don’t.”
The woman still shook, trembling as Jing bent down in front of her, his eyes now directly in front of hers.
“You are Qīnrù zhě, correct?”
She nodded.
“But surely this is not your real name?”
Qīnrù zhě shook her head. “My name is Yuan.”
“Very well, Yuan. Do you understand why you are here?”
“N-no.”
Jing grinned. “You are Asia’s finest and most prolific computer hacker. There is a reason they call you Qīnrù zhě—‘intruder.’ Surely, you know that has something to do with it.”
“Yes, I figured as much.”
Jing stood. He clasped his hands behind his back and paced back and forth in front of Yuan.
“Unbind her hands and feet, Seyana. I do not believe the young girl will be going anywhere.” He’d spoken to Seyana without taking his eyes off of Yuan.
Seyana used a thin blade to cut the zip ties from Yuan’s hands and feet. The captive massaged the red and purple lines on her wrists where the restraints had bit into her flesh. For the first time, the computer hacker looked around the room.
“What is this place?”
“It does not matter. And I do not believe it is your most pressing question.”
Yuan let go of her wrists and looked up at Jing. She stared into his eyes.
“Who are you?”
“I believe the question you meant to ask is, ‘what are you?’ But that can come later. Right now, I have an important task for you.”
Jing went to a computer at the center of a large cluster of machines where an empty chair sat in front of a keyboard and monitor. Seyana grabbed Yuan by the arm and dragged her over. Jing gestured to the chair.
“Please, have a seat,” Jing said.
“Why? What is this?”
Seyana forced Yuan into the chair. She then bent over and whispered into the hacker’s ear. “Don’t you dare talk to Master Jing like that. Do you understand me?”
Jing laughed, clutching Seyana’s shoulder. “Calm down. It’s all right.”
The young computer hacker trembled. She looked up at the two vampires then, with an empty hopelessness in her eyes, the context of her captivity beginning to sink in. Jing sat on the edge of the cluster, crossing his legs and folding his arms as he pointed at the blank monitor.
“We have brought you here for one specific reason. There is a job I have for you. And out of all the hackers on this great continent, I am told you are one of the only people who can accomplish it.”
“What?”
Jing adjusted his tie. “I want you to hack the power grid of the United States and shut it down.”
Yuan laughed. It was subtle at first, but then rose in intensity as she looked around the room. She soon realized that she was the only one laughing. Her smile, along with the laughter, disappeared.
“You’re serious?”
“I am.”
“I can’t shut down the American grid,” Yuan said. “I mean, I could, but it would take days to get all the codes and—”
“We have the codes.”
Yuan’s face went blank. She looked down at the floor, shaking her head and putting her hands on her knees.
“I can’t do this. I can’t be responsible for so much destruction. People will die if I drop the grid. Hacking banks is one thing, but I can’t murder thousands of innocent people.”
“You can.”
Yuan looked up. “I won’t. You might as well kill me now.”
Jing stood, and his arms waved as he spoke.
“You will do this.”
“No, I won’t. You can’t make—”
Jing wrapped his hand around Yuan’s neck. She gasped for air, the saliva in her mouth making a gurgling sound as it seeped through her lips and down her chin. The vampire’s eyes glowed a brighter shade of orange.
“Let me try to put this to you another way. You haven’t a choice in the matter.”
Jing intensified his grip, almost completely cutting off the woman’s air supply. Her face went pale, her eyes widening.
“You wanted to know what I was earlier? I am your master. I am an ancient demon. You will do what I command of you because there are things worse than death.”
The woman’s legs kicked as he held her three feet off the ground. She wheezed, and Jing drew her closer.
“What was that?” The vampire loosened his grip.
“Yes,” Yuan managed to get out. “I will do it.”
Jing let go. The woman fell to the ground, gasping for breath as she clutched her throat. The vampire allowed her to recover for a moment before signaling his lieutenant. Seyana lifted the hacker off of the floor and placed her back into the chair. She pushed it up to the computer.
Still trying to catch her breath, Yuan slumped over the console, coughing and wiping the tears from her eyes. She shivered as Jing placed his hand on her shoulder and dug his fingers into her soft flesh.
“Are you ready?”
The hacker looked over a shoulder at him with bloodshot eyes. She nodded.
Jing grinn
ed.
As his best computer engineers tapped into the hacker’s terminal to assist her, Jing clasped his hands behind his back and made his way to the far end of the room. He stood before the massive monitor there. His technicians had stolen the feed from government cameras, placing the view from several American cities on the main monitor.
Boston.
New York City.
Philadelphia.
Chicago.
Cleveland.
Salt Lake City.
Denver.
Nashville.
New Orleans.
Phoenix.
As he watched the silent feeds, a strange feeling passed through Jing. Something about the images disturbed him—a presence behind the lenses that troubled him. A voice pulled him from his trance. Seyana.
“Master, she’s into the grid of the major cities. Shall we proceed?”
Jing shivered, trying not to show hesitation or weakness in front of his First Lieutenant and his hackers.
“Shut it down. Shut it all down.”
“Yes, Master.”
Jing watched. And moments later, the city of New Orleans went dark before his eyes.
Chapter 22
Elayn Hunt Correctional Center
A few weeks earlier…
Henry “Hank” Shorter sat at his post, gobbling up his third powdered donut.
Working the graveyard shift at the front desk had its perks. For one, he could pound as many Hostess treats as he wanted, with no one around to judge him. He could also watch as much TV as he wanted. The 19-inch screen even came with satellite cable.
He swept the white powder off of his blue shirt as Keeping Up with the Kardashians came back from commercial break. Yeah, Hank liked watching the show—but only with the volume down. Listening to the airheads talk was almost as bad as pretending to take orders from his boss. Not to mention that the sound killed his hard-on. But what kind of warm-blooded man wouldn’t want to get paid to stare at Kim’s fat ass all night? It was a shame she was only interested in fucking black guys. But Hank could dream. And he did—sometimes shoving his hand down his pants when the staff had left for the evening. The other guards on his shift never bothered coming to the front desk, so Hank had plenty of time to play with his girlfriend, Scarlett Jo-hand-son.