Unfinished Original: Vampires IN SPACE!
I will swear up, down, and sideways I've already posted some of this, but darn if I can find it in my memories. I probably forgot to put it there. Anyway, new first part and some more on the second. I have a really humorous scene later on that I'm working on and wanted to point this out so others would know what the heck I was talking about.
You know, one of these days, I am going to go through and tag all my entries. And then I'm going to fall over and die from the overdose of OCD.
It was the buzzing that first caught Marcus's attention. The thrum in the back of his head that sounded like words whispered just soft enough that he felt that if he listened - really listened - he could make them out. It was a sensation that Marcus could have quite happily gone his entire life without feeling again.
There were Draghust around. Marcus knew it. His eyes darted around the quad where the ship he was crewing on was being fixed. Engineers, technicians and mechanics abounded. There shouldn't be any reason for the warrior race to be here.
Marcus finally spotted them on the other side of the quad, congregated around a doorway. They were outfitted in full body armor and holding weapons. Granted the weapons were peace-locked, but the fact that they had been allowed to bring them on the station at all did not bode well
"Fangs," Marcus said. He immediately got the attention of the Temperance and Jonathon. They were the only other humans on the ship, which was why he was working with them. He glanced in their direction to indicate where the Draghust were. "At least eight. Two squads. Wonder what's going on?"
"Do you think there will be a problem?" Temperance asked. She glanced in the direction of the Draghust. She hadn't been old enough to be drafted in the war even with the recruitment age lowered to fifteen, but she was old enough to remember the horrors of it.
"Shouldn't be a problem as long as we don't start anything," Marcus said. One of the Draghust was looking in their direction and Marcus made sure to keep his gaze averted. The less attention he attracted the better. "Ignore them. That's the best advice."
Jonathon was too young to remember the blood wars. Marcus kept forgetting that. The kid must have only been three or four when the war ended. Therefore he didn't know not to meet the Draghust's gaze. He kept watching them until all eight pairs of eyes focused on him.
The buzzing in Marcus head increased. He could feel pressure building inside his head and realized what was happening. The Draghust were trying to control Jonathon. He'd seen it happen in the war, when a group of them would roll one of the soldiers and force him to walk calmly to his death. Or shoot himself in the head. Or kill his commander.
"Jonathon!" Marcus deliberately made his voice sharp. The buzzing increased to the point that Marcus thought his eyes were going to explode out of their sockets. Then it went eeriely silent. Jonathon jerked his head away. His breathing was ragged.
“You don’t look them in the eyes. Ever,” Marcus said in a low voice. He could feel all of the Vamps’ eyes on him. “Keep your head down and they’ll eventually go away.”
“What did they… what did you do?” Jonathon asked. There was a thread of panic in Jonathon’s voice.
“I didn’t do anything. Drop it and keep your distance from them.” Marcus went back to the electrical panel he was working on. He resisted the urge to look towards the Draghust, even out of the corner of his eye. Nothing to see here. Go away.
“But…”
“He said drop it, Jon,” Temperance said. “Nothing happened. Hand me that screw driver.”
Temperance at least understood. Marcus shouldn’t be able to hear the buzzing from the Draghust, but he could. He shouldn’t be able to break their control on another, but he could. It looked like Jonathon would push the issue. Instead, he gave the screwdriver to Temperance.
For a whole minute, Marcus was able to ignore everything but his work. Then curiosity got to be too much. He looked over across the quad towards the door.
The Draghust were gone.
***
Marcus was in the locker room, towel wrapped around his waist and another across his shoulders, when the Vamps burst in. His first reaction was to reach for the laser scoped blaster he hadn't worn since his army days. The Vamps must have recognized the motion. Suddenly three guns were pointed at him. Very slowly he raised his arms above his head.
"Right, right. I get it. I made a sudden move, and now you're not happy," Marcus said in a low, even voice. Vamps had sensitive hearing and didn't particularly like loud noises. He heard a few shouts come from the showers and figured some of the others were cornered there.
Quick and efficient. Just like Marcus remembered them.
The tile was cold under his feet, and Marcus could see more Vamps coming through the door. More than nine. Somehow Marcus doubted that they were the only ones on the ship meaning that they'd been caught with their pants down. So to speak.
"Do you think I could put some clothes on?" The full body armor the Vamps wore made him particularly conscious of how close to naked being he was. The guns didn't move "I'll take that as a 'no' then."
"This is Captain Syton speaking." Marcus somehow managed to not flinch as the Captain's voice rang out over the intercom. At least two of the Vamps hissed - lips drawn back to expose sharp white fangs - though their guns never wavered. "We have been boarded by Draghust soldiers. Do not, and I repeat DO NOT attempt to resist. Go along with their commands as they do a search of the ship. Any one who starts something is going to be on garbage duty for a year."
The Captain's voice cut out with a crackle of static.
One of the Vamps, gestured to one side with his gun. Keeping his hands in the air Marcus walked in that direction. The Vamps stayed behind him and Marcus could feel the skin between his shoulder blades itch. He expected at any moment to be grabbed. If one of them touched him, he wasn't sure he could control his instincts. Marcus got the feeling he was going to defend himself and consequences be damned. This was too much like a flashback. Only it was real.
He was half way down a row of lockers when a gun was shoved into his face. Sheer luck kept Marcus from walking right into it. He backed up a few steps. Three Vamps surrounded him once more.
The number of Vamps surprised him. The smallest unit of the Draghust army was composed of four or five Vamps. Since the Vamps didn't have a spoken language, the members of his squad had used their own word and called that unit a squad. There were only three Vamps working together, meaning that there was at least one missing if not two were missing.
As if summoned by his thoughts a fourth Vamp came around the corner. Its gun was still slung casually over its shoulder and it stayed there even as it moved forward. Once it was about a foot from Marcus, it drew its lips all the way from its fangs and flexed razor sharp claws in front of his face. "Yeah, I get it. You're tough shit. I'm not going to do anything stupid."
The Vamp reached forward and Marcus tensed. He was essentially defenseless. No weapon. No protective gear. Hell, no clothing except for a towel around his waist and another around his shoulders. Hand to hand combat - which really wasn't his specialty anyway - was useless against a Vamp. They were too strong and too quick.
It didn't attack though. Instead, it picked up the dogtags that hung around his neck with one claw. Everyone on the ship wore dogtags. Marcus's were a little different - produced by an Earth government that had been dismantled years ago as opposed to standard ship issue. There was no reason why the Vamps should be interested in them.
One claw carefully traced the letters of his name. Then it dropped the dogtags and stepped back. Marcus could feel the aluminum tags as they hit his chest. The Vamp turned towards the lockers and began to look at the names listed on them.
It's looking for my locker? One of the other Vamps broke off to follow, leaving only two to watch him. Two was more than enough.
The sound of laser fire ricocheted off of the tile. Marcus flinched, his heart suddenly pounding in his chest. There was the sound of struggle from farther in the locker room as some of his crewmates fought and were quickly subdued by the other Vamps. He could understand. It took everything in him not to fight at the sound of the laser fire
If he thought about it logically - though logic was hard to produce with adrenaline pumping through his system and guns pointed at him - there was no reason to fight. The Vamps hadn't shot anyone. Instead, they'd used their guns to blast the lock off of a locker. It squealed once as the electronics in it died, then swung open. The Vamp with its gun over its shoulder grabbed his duffel bag and pulled it out before it started going through it.
"Hey. Hey! That's my stuff," Marcus complained, putting a little bit of volume into it. He was basically ignored. His clothes were pulled out onto the locker room floor, wadded up, then laid flat, and then inspected. It took Marcus a little while to realize they were checking them for anything hard. Anything that could be used as a weapon.
A pair of olive green cargo pants, a gray tank that Marcus had forgotten he owned, and a pair of thick socks passed the inspection. The Vamp with the gun on his shoulder handed them to Marcus. "No shoes? No underwear?"
One of the Vamps with a gun made an impatient gesture. Marcus could take a hint. He didn't particularly relish going commando, but it was a lot better than running around in nothing but towels.
Before getting dressed, Marcus turned so at least his back was towards the lockers. Marcus had never heard of Vamps having a thing for sex with humans, but he wasn't going to bet his ass on it. Besides which, it prevented him from getting that itchy feeling between his shoulder blades.
First the pants, which he managed to get on under the towel around his waist and keep all his assets from hanging out for everyone to see. After that came the gray tank. Marcus put it on as quickly as possible, dropping the towel around his shoulders to the floor. He didn't want the Vamps out of his sight for even a second. That's when they liked to strike.
Nothing happened this time thought, and he was grateful. Automatically, Marcus pulled his dogtags out from under the shirt. They jangled faintl..
The socks were the hardest part. There was no where to sit and he wound up bracing himself against the metal lockers to get them on. It left him off balance and probably made him look like a fool. As soon as his sock-clad foot hit the locker room floor it immediately soaked up every bit of moisture on tile. Ick.
He dropped the towel around his waist on the floor, though it made him wince. Years after he'd left the military he could still hear his drill sergeant. Do you think your momma lives here to pick up your shit? What are you doing leaving your towels on the floor, soldier?
"Okay. Now what?" Marcus asked. No one was quite sure whether Vamps could understand spoken languages, but Marcus suspected that this group could. They motioned with their guns for him to start walking and took up positions around him: two behind and two to either side.
That in itself was odd. The Vamps didn't usually walk in front. It was too easy for him to get the drop of them. Never mind that Marcus would have had to be packing serious fire power to even have a hope of taking one of the Vamps down. That didn't matter. The Draghust did not take chances like that.
"What is this? An honor guard?" Marcus muttered. Despite his bravado, he felt nervous. When it came to Vamps, surprises were rarely pleasant.
They walked out of the locker room, down several corridors, and past the mess. Marcus was very careful to keep his hands by his side and appear as none threatening as possible. Meanwhile his mind was racing ahead. Where were they heading?
I know the ending is abrupt, but that's all I have written. Enjoy.
You know, one of these days, I am going to go through and tag all my entries. And then I'm going to fall over and die from the overdose of OCD.
It was the buzzing that first caught Marcus's attention. The thrum in the back of his head that sounded like words whispered just soft enough that he felt that if he listened - really listened - he could make them out. It was a sensation that Marcus could have quite happily gone his entire life without feeling again.
There were Draghust around. Marcus knew it. His eyes darted around the quad where the ship he was crewing on was being fixed. Engineers, technicians and mechanics abounded. There shouldn't be any reason for the warrior race to be here.
Marcus finally spotted them on the other side of the quad, congregated around a doorway. They were outfitted in full body armor and holding weapons. Granted the weapons were peace-locked, but the fact that they had been allowed to bring them on the station at all did not bode well
"Fangs," Marcus said. He immediately got the attention of the Temperance and Jonathon. They were the only other humans on the ship, which was why he was working with them. He glanced in their direction to indicate where the Draghust were. "At least eight. Two squads. Wonder what's going on?"
"Do you think there will be a problem?" Temperance asked. She glanced in the direction of the Draghust. She hadn't been old enough to be drafted in the war even with the recruitment age lowered to fifteen, but she was old enough to remember the horrors of it.
"Shouldn't be a problem as long as we don't start anything," Marcus said. One of the Draghust was looking in their direction and Marcus made sure to keep his gaze averted. The less attention he attracted the better. "Ignore them. That's the best advice."
Jonathon was too young to remember the blood wars. Marcus kept forgetting that. The kid must have only been three or four when the war ended. Therefore he didn't know not to meet the Draghust's gaze. He kept watching them until all eight pairs of eyes focused on him.
The buzzing in Marcus head increased. He could feel pressure building inside his head and realized what was happening. The Draghust were trying to control Jonathon. He'd seen it happen in the war, when a group of them would roll one of the soldiers and force him to walk calmly to his death. Or shoot himself in the head. Or kill his commander.
"Jonathon!" Marcus deliberately made his voice sharp. The buzzing increased to the point that Marcus thought his eyes were going to explode out of their sockets. Then it went eeriely silent. Jonathon jerked his head away. His breathing was ragged.
“You don’t look them in the eyes. Ever,” Marcus said in a low voice. He could feel all of the Vamps’ eyes on him. “Keep your head down and they’ll eventually go away.”
“What did they… what did you do?” Jonathon asked. There was a thread of panic in Jonathon’s voice.
“I didn’t do anything. Drop it and keep your distance from them.” Marcus went back to the electrical panel he was working on. He resisted the urge to look towards the Draghust, even out of the corner of his eye. Nothing to see here. Go away.
“But…”
“He said drop it, Jon,” Temperance said. “Nothing happened. Hand me that screw driver.”
Temperance at least understood. Marcus shouldn’t be able to hear the buzzing from the Draghust, but he could. He shouldn’t be able to break their control on another, but he could. It looked like Jonathon would push the issue. Instead, he gave the screwdriver to Temperance.
For a whole minute, Marcus was able to ignore everything but his work. Then curiosity got to be too much. He looked over across the quad towards the door.
The Draghust were gone.
***
Marcus was in the locker room, towel wrapped around his waist and another across his shoulders, when the Vamps burst in. His first reaction was to reach for the laser scoped blaster he hadn't worn since his army days. The Vamps must have recognized the motion. Suddenly three guns were pointed at him. Very slowly he raised his arms above his head.
"Right, right. I get it. I made a sudden move, and now you're not happy," Marcus said in a low, even voice. Vamps had sensitive hearing and didn't particularly like loud noises. He heard a few shouts come from the showers and figured some of the others were cornered there.
Quick and efficient. Just like Marcus remembered them.
The tile was cold under his feet, and Marcus could see more Vamps coming through the door. More than nine. Somehow Marcus doubted that they were the only ones on the ship meaning that they'd been caught with their pants down. So to speak.
"Do you think I could put some clothes on?" The full body armor the Vamps wore made him particularly conscious of how close to naked being he was. The guns didn't move "I'll take that as a 'no' then."
"This is Captain Syton speaking." Marcus somehow managed to not flinch as the Captain's voice rang out over the intercom. At least two of the Vamps hissed - lips drawn back to expose sharp white fangs - though their guns never wavered. "We have been boarded by Draghust soldiers. Do not, and I repeat DO NOT attempt to resist. Go along with their commands as they do a search of the ship. Any one who starts something is going to be on garbage duty for a year."
The Captain's voice cut out with a crackle of static.
One of the Vamps, gestured to one side with his gun. Keeping his hands in the air Marcus walked in that direction. The Vamps stayed behind him and Marcus could feel the skin between his shoulder blades itch. He expected at any moment to be grabbed. If one of them touched him, he wasn't sure he could control his instincts. Marcus got the feeling he was going to defend himself and consequences be damned. This was too much like a flashback. Only it was real.
He was half way down a row of lockers when a gun was shoved into his face. Sheer luck kept Marcus from walking right into it. He backed up a few steps. Three Vamps surrounded him once more.
The number of Vamps surprised him. The smallest unit of the Draghust army was composed of four or five Vamps. Since the Vamps didn't have a spoken language, the members of his squad had used their own word and called that unit a squad. There were only three Vamps working together, meaning that there was at least one missing if not two were missing.
As if summoned by his thoughts a fourth Vamp came around the corner. Its gun was still slung casually over its shoulder and it stayed there even as it moved forward. Once it was about a foot from Marcus, it drew its lips all the way from its fangs and flexed razor sharp claws in front of his face. "Yeah, I get it. You're tough shit. I'm not going to do anything stupid."
The Vamp reached forward and Marcus tensed. He was essentially defenseless. No weapon. No protective gear. Hell, no clothing except for a towel around his waist and another around his shoulders. Hand to hand combat - which really wasn't his specialty anyway - was useless against a Vamp. They were too strong and too quick.
It didn't attack though. Instead, it picked up the dogtags that hung around his neck with one claw. Everyone on the ship wore dogtags. Marcus's were a little different - produced by an Earth government that had been dismantled years ago as opposed to standard ship issue. There was no reason why the Vamps should be interested in them.
One claw carefully traced the letters of his name. Then it dropped the dogtags and stepped back. Marcus could feel the aluminum tags as they hit his chest. The Vamp turned towards the lockers and began to look at the names listed on them.
It's looking for my locker? One of the other Vamps broke off to follow, leaving only two to watch him. Two was more than enough.
The sound of laser fire ricocheted off of the tile. Marcus flinched, his heart suddenly pounding in his chest. There was the sound of struggle from farther in the locker room as some of his crewmates fought and were quickly subdued by the other Vamps. He could understand. It took everything in him not to fight at the sound of the laser fire
If he thought about it logically - though logic was hard to produce with adrenaline pumping through his system and guns pointed at him - there was no reason to fight. The Vamps hadn't shot anyone. Instead, they'd used their guns to blast the lock off of a locker. It squealed once as the electronics in it died, then swung open. The Vamp with its gun over its shoulder grabbed his duffel bag and pulled it out before it started going through it.
"Hey. Hey! That's my stuff," Marcus complained, putting a little bit of volume into it. He was basically ignored. His clothes were pulled out onto the locker room floor, wadded up, then laid flat, and then inspected. It took Marcus a little while to realize they were checking them for anything hard. Anything that could be used as a weapon.
A pair of olive green cargo pants, a gray tank that Marcus had forgotten he owned, and a pair of thick socks passed the inspection. The Vamp with the gun on his shoulder handed them to Marcus. "No shoes? No underwear?"
One of the Vamps with a gun made an impatient gesture. Marcus could take a hint. He didn't particularly relish going commando, but it was a lot better than running around in nothing but towels.
Before getting dressed, Marcus turned so at least his back was towards the lockers. Marcus had never heard of Vamps having a thing for sex with humans, but he wasn't going to bet his ass on it. Besides which, it prevented him from getting that itchy feeling between his shoulder blades.
First the pants, which he managed to get on under the towel around his waist and keep all his assets from hanging out for everyone to see. After that came the gray tank. Marcus put it on as quickly as possible, dropping the towel around his shoulders to the floor. He didn't want the Vamps out of his sight for even a second. That's when they liked to strike.
Nothing happened this time thought, and he was grateful. Automatically, Marcus pulled his dogtags out from under the shirt. They jangled faintl..
The socks were the hardest part. There was no where to sit and he wound up bracing himself against the metal lockers to get them on. It left him off balance and probably made him look like a fool. As soon as his sock-clad foot hit the locker room floor it immediately soaked up every bit of moisture on tile. Ick.
He dropped the towel around his waist on the floor, though it made him wince. Years after he'd left the military he could still hear his drill sergeant. Do you think your momma lives here to pick up your shit? What are you doing leaving your towels on the floor, soldier?
"Okay. Now what?" Marcus asked. No one was quite sure whether Vamps could understand spoken languages, but Marcus suspected that this group could. They motioned with their guns for him to start walking and took up positions around him: two behind and two to either side.
That in itself was odd. The Vamps didn't usually walk in front. It was too easy for him to get the drop of them. Never mind that Marcus would have had to be packing serious fire power to even have a hope of taking one of the Vamps down. That didn't matter. The Draghust did not take chances like that.
"What is this? An honor guard?" Marcus muttered. Despite his bravado, he felt nervous. When it came to Vamps, surprises were rarely pleasant.
They walked out of the locker room, down several corridors, and past the mess. Marcus was very careful to keep his hands by his side and appear as none threatening as possible. Meanwhile his mind was racing ahead. Where were they heading?
I know the ending is abrupt, but that's all I have written. Enjoy.