Dawn and Quartered

by Hunter Blain

  “Technically it states that the gates of Hell will open, which will allow the apocalypse to commence,” Locke said from the living room. After a moment of silence, he added, “You cannot give yourself up to save the wolf. I’m sorry, that’s how it has to be.”

  “He’s my best friend. My brother. I’d willingly die for him,” I said through clenched teeth.

  “And cause the fucking apocalypse while you are at it?” Locke said with a voice that was growing louder in frustration and worry. “Pretty damn sure that Depweg would not want that.”

  “He’s right, John,” Da said. “The best course of action, is no action at all.”

  My fists tightened in helpless rage.

  “No!” I barked out while beginning to hyperventilate. “I will save him or die trying!”

  “Let Locke and I come up with an outline of a plan while you slumber. First thing tomorrow night, you must feed. You’re going to need all the strength you can muster if you are to face Ulric.”

  At that moment, I was too bewildered to even point out he had said the P word. Instead, I just went into my room and closed the door, my body doing the motions on autopilot as my mind reeled. Ulric was back and he had my best friend. He was going to kill me or force me to kill him and end Heaven, Hell, and Earth between. I was dizzy with how momentous the situation was.

  I slowly pivoted and sat on the bed, my eyes staring at nothing at all as my mind worked out my predicament. If I killed Ulric, end of the world. If Ulric killed me, end of the world. If I do nothing, my brother dies and Ulric will still come after me. If I bring allies, they will surely die or accidentally kill Ulric. It’s as if I were being drawn and quartered— each decision was a rope tied around one of my limbs and attached to a horse facing a different direction. Each horse would pull at the same time and it didn’t matter which one pulled the hardest, I still lost in every, single scenario.

  Feeling helpless was more intense for a super or preternatural creature than it was for mortals. Humans were always a baby breaths hair away from being completely powerless; a car wreck coming home from church. A robbery in the parking lot after work. Any of a number of illnesses that doctors couldn’t cure. Natural disasters that left them without food, water, or power. Rush hour traffic. You get the idea.

  For supes, it was an almost alien idea. We spend most of our existence being the apex predator, in control of our surroundings with means of escape or manipulation in most situations. When we are finally rendered helpless, it is truly a long way to fall. As I sat motionless on my bed, I became dizzy as the reality and weight of the circumstances solidified. This wasn’t a bad dream that I could wake up from. I would have to make a decision and hope that I didn’t end all of existence in the process.

  In my depressed and shocked state, the briefest thought of suicide came into mind. This woke me from my pity party and I laughed at the irony. Sure, I could kill myself. I definitely knew of a cornucopia of ways to do it after narrowly surviving all these years; but then I would just go to Hell and all this would be redundant. Well, maybe it wouldn’t if Hell was also destroyed after my death sparked the apocalypse. Either way, I was not going to let my weak impulses even begin to entertain giving up. Too much was riding on me. At this moment, I was Atlas and the world needed my shoulders to bare its weight.

  As my resolve strengthened, the sun rose, coaxing me to rest in preparation for the night of prophecy to potentially unfold.

  Chapter 11

  T he next night, I awoke and immediately headed downtown without saying a word to Da or Locke who were still hard at work on their plan. Locke had begun to say something when Da raised his hand to halt him, knowing how single-minded I was at that moment. I was hangry.

  Depweg had suggested a morally approved method of hunting that I was going to partake in.

  I took striding leaps in a straight path in search of food. It was of utmost importance that I replenish the reserves that the rhino burned away.

  I leaped over houses, through industrial parks, and over creeks until I got to the edge of downtown. As I entered the city, I shot a blood-rope high up into a concrete building and used my moment to carry myself upwards. This was similar to, but legally different than that superhero that was bit by the spider.

  I landed on a roof while retracting my blood-slinger. Just your friendly, neighborhood vampire out for some dinner. I walked to the edge, closed my eyes, and opened my senses. I could feel the wind caress my face and tug at my hair and freshly repaired trench coat Da had left out for me. Footsteps sounded clearly of the few passersby that walked the streets of this early evening. Work was over and the restaurants and bars were starting to fill up. I could smell the mix of foods waft from below that held no interest for me anymore. Not for centuries now. Though they smelled pleasant enough, the odors of food were more akin to smelling a cologne or perfume; sure, it was nice and all but you wouldn’t go consuming them.

  My mind kept slipping back to Depweg in my search. Still images of Ulric easily overtaking him. Did Ulric stop for a fraction of a second and look at the camera? I couldn’t be sure. What I was sure of, was that he had my best friend. The yin to my yang. I wanted to find him now and face Ulric, but even PS knew that would be the same as suicide. Ulric was much older than I was which equated to a multiplicative strength difference, possibly exponential. Either way, I knew that I had gotten lucky in the alley so many, many years ago. A one and a million-shot brought to fruition by Ulric’s own hubris, which I was confident he would not repeat. He sought revenge, and would not care about the consequences. To him, it would be entertaining to watch the end unfold.

  After waiting for several minutes, possible hours (because I am terrible at time), I heard what I was waiting for. A scream slipped through the night and into my ears, freeing me from my troubling self-doubt. Orienting on the sound, I ran across the roof and leaped to the next one, drawing closer to my breakfast and source of replenishment.

  In short order, I had parkoured a quarter of the way through downtown Houston when I leaped into one of the topmost levels of a parking garage. There, was a wild-eyed man overpowering a woman in a business suit. Saliva bubbled between his lips as her blouse was ripped off like it was made of tissue. He moaned in anticipation as the woman whimpered, red lumps evident on her brow and cheek where she had been struck repeatedly into submission.

  “You’re in Los Diablo’s Locos territory now, bitch. You shouldn’t be here. Now, you’ll have to pay the toll,” he said while sucking his saliva back between his lips and then wiping the remainder away with his shoulder. The leather bikers jacket only succeed in smearing the spit.

  The rapist gang member had the woman on her back now and was moving a hand up her thighs while I walked right up on him. I didn’t even have to attempt to be silent as the foolish mortal was so intent on his prey; so was I.

  My hand grabbed around the back of the man’s neck and I lifted him. He was as helpless in my grip as a puppy being carried by its mother. I looked down at the woman who was attempting to pull her blouse back together and told her in a stern voice, “Go. He will not bother you any longer.” I turned my gaze back to the man and waited. She didn’t move, unsure which man in front of her was the real danger. I shot my head back at her and willed my eyes to glow red as I shouted, “GO!” That did the trick. With wide-eyed panic, the woman scrambled on the ground, breaking a heel of her shoe in the process. She hobbled to a nearby car, clicking with every other step, got in, and sped off. Tires squealed and billowed white smoke as a terrified foot pressed the pedal to its limits.

  I turned my attention back to the man, placing my other palm on his forehead. It was his turn to whimper as he tried to push me away from him; but to this mere mortal, I might as well have been a stone statue, unyielding to his pathetic attempts of freedom.

  “Where is your gang’s hideout?” I asked coldly while willing my essence into his mind. He stiffened as he sucked in a gasp of breath before relaxing completely after a few mo
ments of pointless resistance.

  “A warehouse off Fuqua Street, close to 45,” the man said as if floating through a dream.

  “What warehouse?” I demanded.

  “Los Diablo’s Car Care Center.”

  “You…you can’t be serious,” I asked in disbelief. “Who is your marketing guy because that title strikes two different emotions.”

  “We have a Facebook page,” he said.

  “I didn’t ask, but alright,” I said annoyed. “How many are there right now?”

  “At least fifteen locos and maybe some bitches.”

  “First of all, you’re white. I don’t know if I should be credulous or proud of your vernacular. It’s nice to see a gang be so inclusive. Second, are all of you crime-laden filth?”

  “Yes…why am I saying these things?” He asked in his haze.

  “Because I am making you. Doesn’t feel so fun being on this end of things, does it you white cholo.”

  “That’s racist.”

  “YOU’RE WHITE! I’M WHITE. Fuck, I’m more than white. I’m feck’n Irish. That’s like the epitome of white,” I said pointing to my reddish beard.

  “Are you going to hurt me?”

  “I’m not gonna hurt ya. Wendy, darling, light of my life. I’m not going to hurt ya,” I said in my best Jack Nicholson.

  “Wha…what?” The rapist said while I let my essence slip back into my being.

  “You didn’t let me finish my sentence. I said, I’m not going to hurt ya. I’m just going to bash your brains in. I’m going to bash them right the fuck in.” As I finished my monologue, I manifested a hammer in my free hand, keeping my other on his neck. With one quick motion, I brought the hammer down with the force of Valhalla and sent the blunt instrument deep into his vein filled fat sack that might once have been called a brain. White gore sloshed over the broken skull and onto the pavement as I sucked his erupting blood into my body. His eyes rolled up and his mouth gaped open wordlessly while his body twitched and shook.

  Oh the power. The ecstasy. Energy filled my every molecule and sent tingles of pleasure shooting down my spine and over my limbs. It wasn’t sexual, rather a whole-body euphoria, like stepping out onto a cool spring night and feeling the evening air envelope you in a welcoming embrace down to your bones; and then multiplying that a hundred times over. Once drained, I retracted my hammer-straw, PS rejoicing in my mind as I oriented on the hideout of this blood bag’s posse. While still holding the sack of flesh in my hand, I leaped through the levels of the parking garage with renewed vigor, and all but flew through the streets at preternatural speeds.

  By the time I made it to a warehouse across from the chop shop, I mean, car care center, my leftovers had been torn to shreds by the inertia at which I traveled. My powerful body kept whole while his mortal remains all but disintegrated piece by piece over the journey, leaving nothing behind except the skull which I still held. I brought it up to eye level, whispered “Thank you,” to it before squeezing my fingers into a fist and turning the skull to dust. What fell to the ground I stepped on with my boots and grinded my heel. Perfect way to dispose of a fully drained body. If any large pieces remained intact, animals would surely devour them.

  My senses shot out with a predatory intensity and I was easily able to make out every warm body in and out of the warehouse. Big gulp was right, there were exactly fifteen meals to be eaten.

  [Don’t eat the innocents. Got it?] I told PS. He nodded in eager anticipation of the Vegas style buffet that lay ahead of us. [I’m serious. Do not take the wheel from me. Partners?] PS looked at me soberly and nodded once. [Then let’s go make the world a better place.]

  I shot out from my perch and crossed the street in a single bound. PS oriented on our prey while I sent out my essence to the handful of women whose only crime was being into bad boys. I coaxed some of their synapses to stop firing for a few minutes while I ate, rendering them living statues that wouldn’t remember anything.

  PS shot a hand outwards while forming a crude manifestation of what reminded me of a stalactite you see in caves. It wasn’t neat, pretty, or even fully symmetrical but it pierced through two TV dinners, like a chopstick through rice. Even though the weapon wasn’t pretty, it did pierce their blood-soaked livers. PS fiercely sucked their life force from their body before the heart even knew to stop beating. I almost lost control of the wheel as my nerves were kissed with indescribable decadence. I struggled to maintain my grip least PS lose control and go ape shit on every living thing in a five-block radius. We had lost a lot of energy with the rhino and we were both desperate to refill our tanks, and then some. Being in a blood rage was nothing new to me, but I was learning to control it the best I could.

  I retracted the primitive manifestation, while we tackled three men who were standing in complete surprise, and horror at what was happening.

  “It’s all a bad movie, boys,” I said with eyes glowing a red so bright that it was like a mac truck driver had his foot on the breaks. Gang members around us were squinting and tried to shield their eyes as three blood tentacles slithered out from my palms and into the pulsating necks of the three men I had pinned. They fought and screamed a high pitch call of unbridled terror before succumbing to their fate.

  My hand very nearly came off the wheel of control that time as the three bodies filled with adrenaline filled blood coursed through my veins, absorbing the energy and making me stronger.

  Shots rang out, interrupting my reverie, as the remaining wholesome taxpayers broke out fully auto weapons. One had a Glock with an extended mag that he sprayed wildly in my direction, unable to control the kick in his panic. A few others had AK’s and were squeezing the triggers in a death grip that emptied their magazines in a matter of seconds. From a back room, a big motherfucker carried a semi auto shotgun complete with a huge drum for the shells. He unloaded and those slugs fucking hurt as they found their target. They didn’t contain silver or iron, but just packed a punch befitting an elephant. It was like being slugged in the arm by your girlfriend who thought you could take it. You pretend like it didn’t hurt, but it did. You know it, she knows it, your eyes water a little. Kinda like that.

  One slug slammed directly into my head, ripping my grey beanie off and knocking my brain around in my skull. I’d have to remember that shotguns with slugs hurt. Either that or I was weaker from my battle with the stupid horned beast than I thought. That bastard burned off all my reserves including what little delicious angel blood I had left. These McBadGuys weren’t even a fraction as amazing as the angel blood had been. Then again, even a dehydrated man that had been basting in the sun of a desert thinks that puddle water is straight from God himself.

  I flipped through the air, letting my body go horizontal, as I willed a blood chain with a spiked ball at the end of its length. As I twisted, I used the momentum to launch the ball at the huge bastard with the auto shotty, and shattered the weapon. As the ball covered in spikes found its home in the abdominal cavity of the surprised goliath of a man, I expanded the spikes in an explosion that pierced the entire length of the man’s torso in all directions. I inhaled his blood before he died, and oh, he had so much to give. Sending out my essence again, I asked all the entranced innocents to lay on the ground. They did so methodically and uniformly— first dropping to one knee, and then the other, before placing their hands on the ground and lowering themselves until they were flat.

  While still drinking from my bro-tein shake, I willed a large, curving blade that extended from my shoulder and out from my hand several feet. I positioned my hand across my body, as if trying to touch my opposite shoulder, and then swung my hand out in a blur while extending the blade. It caught the machine gun-wielding men at the waist and they were bisected cleanly as the blade lodged into the sheet metal wall. Their top halves rested on my blade while their legs collapsed to the ground, no longer receiving signals from their brains. Crimson life flowed from their organs and severed arteries and into my blade. I also focused and willed
the surplus of crimson life from their legs to flow into me as well. It reminded me of laying on a bed with my head hanging off the sides and watching through a rain-soaked window as water seemed to flow upwards from that perspective.

  As I finished the Hungry Man-sized meal, I willed a javelin and threw it into the bar. It pierced both the bar and the man cowering behind. I finished draining the machine gun goons and the bartender at the same time, letting my blood weapons retreat into me.

  [See, bud? That’s how it’s done. It’s called finesse and showmanship.] PS rolled his eyes and proceeded to clap slowly.

  [Should be a handful left. Let’s get them before they…]

  Tires squealed outside. It sounded like two large SUV’s had taken off in a hurry for some reason. Maybe they were late for church.

  After retrieving and stuffing my tattered grey beanie in my pocket, I willed all the women left to exit out the back, hastily, but not before setting the alcohol covered bar on fire. I should probably still return after I finish though and dispose of the mangled bodies at the very least.

  PS nudged me and pointed. [Right!] I burst through the sheet metal wall like it was aluminum foil and landed on the parking lot where I crouched. After a quick orientation, I exploded off the ground, shattering concrete, and soared into the air at the angle of the SUVs. As I hovered into position several yards up, I shot out two blood spears into the ground on either side of the frontmost vehicle and pulled myself downwards. I rocketed towards the black meal filled SUV like a rocket about to hit a tank. I slammed through the roof and the car flipped end over end from the impact. Their buddies driving behind couldn’t stop in time and crashed into the tumbling metal coffin. The impact was deafening, at least to mortal ears.

  It was all in slow motion to me. My teeth found the neck of the driver while an ice pick went through the neck of the passenger, siphoning their blood with gusto. It was like when the waiter brings your salad out with the meal and you’re forced to down it while barely chewing so you can get to your main course before it cools.