Blood Crusade

by Billita Jacobsen

  The basin was devoid of humans, thank goodness. Even a totally toasted drunk would get burnt at a glimpse of my other identity. Yet, in the dimness of the unlit concrete channel, someone would probably think they were looking at a grizzly bear unless they observed the contour of my wolf-like nose. My elongated claws and sharp fangs, longer than vamps, would shoot terror through their body. The look of horror and disbelief in a human’s eyes when they witness a werewolf is not a pretty sight.

  I took a deep sniff of the air, like a dog hanging its head out of a car window. I caught the slight scent of the professor and bounded in its direction, a bloodhound on the search. The smell became stronger as I approached the fortress-like, cinder block wall surrounding the vintage Vegas estates known as the Scotch 80’s.

  Block walls are commonplace in Vegas, giving residents the illusion of security and privacy from their neighbors. The six-foot high walls reminded me of a miniature version of the Great Wall of China. There was a decorative pattern of holes called “Champagne Bubbles” on the top row where black widow spider’s webs caught their prey. I put a paw over the top “bubble”, clutched my purse, briefcase, and clothes with my other paw, and hopped the wall.

  Unfortunately, I landed too close to a cactus that grabbed the blouse I was holding in my paws. Damn, it that was my favorite tacky top. I carefully pulled it from the needles after turning back into my human self and figured it could have been worse--I could be plucking the porcupine-like quills from my body. I got dressed and quietly surveyed the terrain, hoping that no vampires had spotted me.

  The yard I landed in boasted that the residents had respect for the desert landscape. They practiced xeriscape--working with the natural surroundings. There were desert marigolds, poppies, purple coneflowers, barrel cactus, and date palms strategically placed near boulders throughout the half acre. The vampires wouldn’t be so thoughtful of the environment--this Las Vegas oasis was safe. I planted my purse and the briefcase behind the showy, fragrant flowers of a butterfly bush. I could return for them after rescuing the professor.

  He was still alive--I’d heard him moaning when my werewolf ears were on. There were also sounds of a baby crying. Perhaps my werewolf ears had played tricks on me. Children are usually off the vampire menu. After all, vamps were human once; many of them had been parents, brothers, or sisters and retained the loving memory of being a human child. Vampires will deal with a child-killing vamp like prison inmates deal with child molesters. For human or for vampire there’s no greater crime than harming a child.

  The Supreme World Council forbids the killing of children for practical reasons. While millions of adults go missing every year and end up as vampire dinner, the bodies are disposed of carefully and there isn’t much of an uproar. However, humans value their children and many headlines and news stories are created when one is taken. The council doesn’t want the attention--subterfuge has been their salvation against a world that would destroy them if their existence was known.

  The darkness grew inside me as I crept closer to the sound of the professor’s moans. The rage inside was building and I wanted so badly to kill. Control, control, I own this, I am this, and I have the power, I repeated over and over to myself while slowly doing the managed, meditative, deep breathing taught to me so long ago by Master Kong. If the rage had power over me, an innocent might get hurt, I had to be methodical and careful.

  I hopped the miniature version of the Great Wall of China and landed in the vampire’s yard where the scent of the professor was strongest. My bare feet hit the wet grass. It felt refreshing but was a drain on Nevada’s resources--obvious vampire territory. The bad ones didn’t give a shit about the environment.

  The focal point of the yard was a huge pool, brightly lit with colors of blue, green, and red, with dolphin statutes spitting streams of water across the ceramic tile edge. I crept closer to the house passing through the sprinklers that cooled my feet and wasted water. The professor’s moans became steadily louder. And I did hear a baby crying.

  There were no guards patrolling the property. That was not surprising since the supremely arrogant think no one will dare attack them. I approached a brightly lit window and was not prepared for the horror that shot into my eyes.

  Peering into the room, I saw a gourmet kitchen with granite countertops, maple cabinets, an island with stovetop, stainless steel appliances, and blood spattered on the marble floors and cream-colored walls. The professor was tied to a wrought iron chair, his hands behind him, his head limp on his chest. Blood was pouring from his nose, mouth, eyes, and arms like maple syrup off a short stack of pancakes.

  The body of a woman was draped across the speckled granite in the kitchen island--two vampires were feeding from her neck and breasts. The dead eyes of a man, his head turned backward, stared emptily at the designer lights on the ceiling. His arm had been ripped from his body and was now lying on a counter, dripping blood. This wasn’t a kitchen, it was a human butcher shop.

  I took a count of the vampires in the room. Two feeding on the woman, one on each side of the professor and one in front, three that appeared to be blocking the kitchen door. Eight vampire adversaries--I would likely die trying to save the nearly perished professor.

  I was contemplating a fight to the death when three more vampires entered the bloody room. “Sire, we have news,” one announced to the vampire standing in front of the professor.

  “I gave orders not to be disturbed,” he said, grabbing Harold’s hair and pulling his head up. The poor professor peered at him through swollen eyes.

  “I don’t know anything, Claudius. You bastard,” Harold gasped.

  “Oh, but I think you do. Your wife must have told you of our plans before I had her silenced. Now, for the last time, who did you tell?” questioned Claudius, supreme asshole leader of the vampires. He gave the professor a stone cold look with his piercing blue eyes. He was a surprisingly short vampire, maybe five foot two, dressed completely in black, contrasted by shocks of white sideburns on a balding head.

  “Sire…the hunters are in Vegas,” said the vampire who first announced he had news as he took a step backward and looked fearfully at Claudius.

  Claudius released Harold’s hair and the professor’s head fell back limply on his chest. “Hunters have dared to enter Las Vegas?”

  “Yes, sire. The council desires an immediate meeting to discuss the problem.”

  “Come!” Claudius motioned to the vampires in the room as if he were summoning loyal dogs. “I’ll take care of you later, Harold. Expect to die very slowly,” he snorted at the professor. They exited quickly, leaving me to admire my lucky streak. I pulled at the window to open it but of course it was locked tight. I broke the glass with my elbow and unbolted the latch.

  “Harold, hang on. I’m getting you out of here,” I whispered to the professor while crawling through the window.

  I knelt in front of him. “Harold, it’s Nola, wake up.”

  He’d been bitten hundreds of times. They’d tortured him to the point of death but did not remove enough blood for him to die. He’d been beaten about the face. Untying his arms, I saw that they had removed his fingernails and cut off his middle finger. I gently laid him on the floor. “Harold, we have to leave before they come back, please try to get up.”

  He just moaned. I decided to carry him. “No,” he groaned. “You’ve got to save them…the babies, Nola, please get them out of here.”

  “Babies? They’re feeding on babies?” I said dull-witted.

  “Twins…they killed the parents in front of me…that bitch niece of Claudius took the babies,” he said faintly with the weakness of someone who is dying.

  “Alright, I’ll find them, but I’m coming back for you and you have a decision to make,” I said with determination.

  Harold passed out. I had to hurry, find the kids, come back and get him, go back to the butterfly bush for my purse and briefcase and somehow get us all to safety before Claudius and his sentinels returned. Thi
s was getting more fucked-up by the minute.

  I no longer heard a baby crying. Now the damn mansion would have to be searched before it’s too late. I had no idea how many vampires still remained but it was certain that they didn’t all leave.

  I entered the ornate living room--it was huge, with high ceilings and marble floors and white pillars by the foyer that seem to be standard fixtures in a vampire mansion. A portrait of Poker Babe was displayed over the marble mantel of the fireplace. A grand wrought iron staircase led upstairs and I did my silent best to take my search there.

  The first vampire attacked as soon as my foot hit the top stair. It was the goon guard that grabbed the professor earlier with Poker Bitch. I threw him over the staircase and he flew back up so quickly that I barely had time to get a grip on my dagger.

  I plunged the knife into his neck and ripped around until his head came off. Sensing that the second guard was near, I crept down the long hallway, decorated by old portraits and Persian rugs. Double doors at the end of the corridor called out to me--perhaps the babies were in there.

  The other dimwit guard came down from the ceiling, thinking he would surprise me. I merely turned my dagger upwards and got him directly in the heart as he tried to jump on top of me, killing him rapidly. Burly guards aren’t big on brains but he might have had a chance if not for my awareness of the vampires’ ceiling trick. One rule Lance taught was to always look up and be aware that a vampire could drop in on you from above.

  I opened the flamboyant double doors of the bedroom and saw the tiny body sprawled on a dresser. A perfect baby boy, naked, covered in blood. My stomach sank as I slowly forced myself to walk closer. He was about six months old with a full head of blond hair. One might think he was just sleeping if not for the bloodbath.

  God, my hate for these vampires was fueling a growing rage--only the lowest, foulest creature would kill a baby. “You will get revenge,” I vowed, touching his little head, my tears falling in mourning of this young life deprived of years of happiness and love. Then his minuscule mouth opened and a drawn-out howl emerged to echo through the room. I jumped back, startled. They hadn’t killed him--they had turned him into a vampire. And that was even worse than death for a child.

  It takes a lot to shock me, my eyes have seen almost every horrible occurrence there is to witness on this planet but this was a pulsating, evil act of no comparison. This newly created vampire would remain a baby for hundreds of years, dependent on others to bring him blood, trapped in a tiny body.

  There was really no choice but to put him out of his misery. Claudius would die but now I vowed to make him suffer before he did for forcing me to send a once beautiful baby to its grave. I loved children, they and the animals we share this forsaken planet with are the only beautiful, comforting things we have. Killing this vampire child will haunt me forever.

  My hand trembled as I held up the dagger. The baby looked at me with his lovely blue eyes and opened his mouth. Tiny fangs popped out. He giggled. My hand felt frozen in mid-air. Dizziness spread over my body. The sudden, loud sound of a baby’s cry--a still-human baby’s cry, came from the next room. The dagger fell from my hands.

  Twins. The professor said twins. It wasn’t too late to save the other baby. I ran to the next room. Poker Babe was there, smoking a cigarette, sitting on a rocking chair in the semi-darkness with a few candles giving an eerie glow to the room as she swayed the baby back and forth.

  I didn’t think she noticed me until she said, “Isn’t she beautiful? I’m going to name her Summer.” She looked up; cradling the baby in one arm, and taking puffs of the cigarette in her other hand. “Do you disapprove?” She waved her cigarette hand, “Am I a bad mother?” She began to laugh hysterically.

  “You are one bat shit crazy psycho bitch,” I replied.

  “You really are stupid to come here alone,” she said coolly.

  “Perhaps, but you should know that your guards are dead. And anyone who would turn a baby into a vampire will die for the crime.”

  She actually looked hurt. “Uncle Claudius promised me children. Do you have any idea how rare a vampire child is? How long they will live and the wonders they will see? Uncle turned the boy into a lovely vampire and I will turn the girl. Uncle promised me that I will be Queen and my children will eventually rule the world with me. He assured me of that if I promised to be good.”

  I took off my blouse. “I don’t care what that asshole promised you--you’re wrong. Although you were right about one thing,” I said, removing my skirt and panties.

  “What would that be?” She looked at my naked body with an eyebrow raised, genuinely curious.

  I pointed to the cigarette. “Those things won’t kill you…I will.” A shiver of delight ran down my backbone as my cells changed. I welcomed becoming a beast now--the tingling sensation was divine. Standing tall in all my werewolf glory, I repeated the oath taken for Lance.

  “I vow with all my heart and soul to protect and defend the weak and innocent. Justice and liberty are my crusade. I will seek the light and banish darkness. I will defend humanity with courage, valor, truth and loyalty. I will punish the enemies of righteousness. In the name of morality, I sentence you to death for crimes against humanity.”

  The code was often repeated to vamps that had already been killed. Lance wanted those about to be executed to hear it, kind of like reading someone their Miranda rights, I suppose. It was hard to tell a creature trying to murder you that you had a code but Lance was chivalrous, so I didn’t argue, but it was usually kill first and give the code later. Poker Babe just sat there smirking, so there was time to repeat the oath before killing her sorry ass.

  She leered at me and licked her lip ring. Her fangs were showing as she said, looking me up and down, “Well, that explains a lot--only a werewolf would be so foolhardy as to threaten me.”

  This had to end quickly. A claw through her heart with my right paw would allow me to catch the baby with my left paw. I lunged forward, ready to deliver the deadly blow when she flipped me over and flung me across the room without dropping the infant, the cigarette dangling from her lips.

  Along with the pain came the realization that she was big trouble. Poker Babe was the most powerful vampire I’ve ever come across. The element of surprise was on her side since her youthful appearance had thrown me off. She must be thousands of years old and it seemed as if she’d had hundreds of years of martial arts training.

  She enjoyed the stunned look on my face, smiling with the look of a cat ready to savor toying with a mouse. “Poor, stupid creature,” she said as she kicked me in the stomach and head, with the force of a jackhammer breaking concrete. “I was a vampire child. Uncle turned me when I was twelve, when Rome was in its glory, when human chattel worshipped the ground I walked on. I have grown up with the ages and seen history made. Feel the power my children will have.” She grabbed my neck and threw me to the other side of the room. The back of my head crashed into the corner of an antique armoire.

  I was still trying to catch my breath from the kick to my midsection as flowing blood warmed my neck and back. She was definitely going to kill me--I didn’t stand a chance. She stood over me, still smoking the cigarette.

  Waiting for her to deliver the final blow, recognition of my demise was hard to accept. I knew my line of work would result in death one day but the grim reaper always seems to come too soon. I wanted a little more time--just a few weeks to reunite with my daughter and know she was safe. One more chance to see Lance. One more sunset, one more sunrise. A tear rolled down my furry face.

  She spotted it and mocked me. “Oh boo-hoo, poor stupid teddy bear, are you sad? Are you afraid to die? Since this will be the day that you perish, we need the appropriate music,” she said, skipping across the room to a console where she played “American Pie” by Don McLean. She turned the music up and began to sing her own lyrics to the song, calling me Miss American Werewolf and dancing around the room.

  At that moment, a wonderful
awareness was delivered on a silver platter. This crazy bitch would be the one to perish. Her arrogance would do her in as it had countless vampires before her. She was so sure that I was done for, so sure of her power, that she was taking her time and savoring the moment. I groaned in pain even though my strength was returning.

  She kicked me in the head with all the strength of an ancient vampire. Feigning unconsciousness, I didn’t move for five minutes. I was quite aware that she was watching me, waiting for me to be cognizant before she finished me off. Perhaps she was unaware how quickly werewolves healed.

  I groaned and rolled over. Making myself appear as pitiful as possible, I crawled out the door and down the hallway to the bedroom that held vampire baby. She seemed pleased by this decision as she followed, skipping and singing and still holding normal baby. Dragging myself into the room and turning into human form allowed her to believe that my death was imminent.

  Vampire baby was sitting up, patting and playing in the puddle of blood left from the turning ritual. Poker Babe stroked his cheek. “My beautiful baby, your sister will soon join you. I’ll be a good mother, you’ll see, it will be only the best blood for you…”

  I thrust the dagger deep through her back and into her vampire heart. She hadn’t been paying attention when I returned to werewolf form, retrieved my weapon, and snuck up behind her. I caught the baby girl as she fell from Poker Babe’s arms and gently laid her down on the Persian rug. Poker Babe turned and faced me with the same bewildered look I’d seen in the eyes of a hundred vampires before her. She simply couldn’t believe she’d lost. The hard silver blade had been plunged into her crazy heart with all the strength from a werewolf--she was a goner. She crumbled and disintegrated before me, her lip ring making a hollow sound as it rolled and bounced across the oak floors, away from the pile of black ashes.