Welcome to Chapter Two.
Chapter 2
“It’s been too long since that night; too long with no results. After I caught my breath, I hiked to the nearest hospital and collapsed in the waiting room; thought it would get their attention. I woke up in a sterile white bed a few days later. Just in time for the local news.
They reported that no one was found at the camp; no one. There was no blood. There was no force of entry. There was nothing. For all they knew, I vanished with the rest of them. I preferred to keep it that way. Before the nice doctors could bill me or ask me questions, I left. Apparently I already had a predisposition for disappearing.
I thought about killing myself more times than I’d like to admit. But I got so many problems, killing myself probably wouldn’t fix them all. And it sure as hell wouldn’t bring her back. So I tracked them. Those vampires, or whatever they are, gave me the slip more than once. I hunted them for the better part of a year now and it boiled down to this: they’re here. They’re in this city. They’re waiting for I don’t know what and I don’t know where, but they’re here.
I’ve been going under the assumption that Gabrielle and the rest from the camp are still with them. There’s been no evidence to the contrary. If they were killed it’d be an awful lot of bodies to dump and there’s been nothing in the papers. So they’re here; all of the, somewhere.”
Michael stared blankly into his glass and thought about his next move. The crowd had all but moved on this time of night. As the last of the barflies took their leave he took the last throat-full of his drink. He made sure the last had left before he took a deep breath and began.
He leapt over the bar and unsheathed one of his dual swords and pulled out a .38 caliber Colt Detective Special in his other hand. He quickly advanced on the bartender and with great force, pushed up against the edge of the bar. Michael figured with a sword at his throat and a gun in his chest, the bar-keep was forced to pay more attention.
“Now that you’re a little more comfortable,” Michael spat out, “We can get down to business, yeah?”
The bartender whispered a panicked, “Yes.”
“Alright then, tell me about a large group of people that came into town not too long ago.”
“I don’t know about any large groups,” he said with a slight whimper in his voice.
“Oh, you know; large group trying to keep secret, dental problem, probably don’t like the sun too much?”
“I don’t know I about any vampires.”
“I didn’t say they were vampire.” Michael said with a sneer. “Maybe I should reiterate myself.” He pulled the hammer back and pushed the barrel ever more forcefully into the bartender’s chest.
“I was just going with what you said. I swear I don’t know.” He was sobbing openly now and cowering in on himself.
Michael could see that he wasn’t going to get any information out of this guy so he simple leaned over and whispered into the bartender’s ear, “Thank you of your time,” and then vanished out the door.
“It was a bum hunch anyway,” he thought as he slowly walked through the darkened streets to his apartment. As Michael hiked up the steps to his loft, he passed by his ladnlady’s room. There lived Sadie and her teenage daughter, Amy.
Sadie was older but only around her mid thirties though not to her appearance could one judge this age. Amy, of course, was the spitting image of her mother both in resemblance and wit. They were nice enough to and even paid him for odd jobs every now and then. Though he did not want to overstep his bounds when he heard crying coming from their room he knocked on the door.
Sadie opened the door in tears and fell onto Michael.
“What’s wrong?” Michael stammered as he embraced her and for a brilliant moment in time he remembered Gabrielle.
“It’s Amy. She didn’t come home today and her friends don’t know where she is.” She spoke into his shoulder with a quiver of worry in her voice. “I know it’s asking a lot, but you know this city, could you please help me?”
“Hold on.” Michael said with concern as he grasped her shoulders and brought her around to face him. “Where do you think she would go?”
“I don’t know,” she said, holding back the tears. “Please help.”
“Alright, alright; I’ll do it. Just wait here by the phone; I’ll bring her back.” With these last words he stared into her eyes with earnest intensity. Michael then made his way back down the steps and out into the night.
“At least in this town there’s always a way to get information you didn’t need.” He thought as he began climbing down a steep dissent into a rusty overpass on the far side of town. His las step down was a large one but once he was firmly on the ground he leisurely pulled out a pocket knife and commenced work on his arm. Once he was finished he held out his forearm to the open breeze and waited. “Not long know.”
It wasn’t long before Michael heard a rustle on top of the overpass. A figure jumped down on the far side of the tunnel and started with haste towards his position. Michael stood still as the figure came to his are began digging in like a dog in his water dish. Then, the stranger looked up slightly as if to fully understand what he was doing and found that the open wound he was suckling was a happy face carved into Michael’s forearm. The man looked up at him and sneered, “You asshole.”
Michael took this with a smile, grabbed him by the neck and slammed him into the side of the overpass. The stranger being strangled went by the name Remy and was well known as a parasite of the night; nothing more than a leech with fangs. Michael had, in fact, done this same routine to him on many occasions, whether he knew too much or too little; it didn’t matter.
“So, what’s it gonna be, Remy, the easy way or the fun way?” He questioned with a note of joy in his voice.
“What do you wanna know?” Remy coughed out.
“There’s a girl, long blonde hair, about this tall, where is she?”
“Mmmm, the young master has a girlfriend. Wouldn’t she be a little you for you?” Remy laughed through Michael’s grip.
Michael began laughing and swiftly punched Remy in the face. “You’re just making it easier for me to hit you, Remy. You know I haven’t had a good workout tonight.”
“Fine. She was taken by a group of them. They hang out down by the docks.”
Michael could tell he was telling the truth so he merely smiled and said, “Thanks,” and dropped him to the hard ground.
As Michael approached a clearing where the docks stood he spotted a group of people standing amidst crates next to an old warehouse. He approached cautiously until he saw just how many there were. He counted nine in total, one of which was holding a young blonde about Amy’s height. The girl seemed to be unconscious but hopefully breathing. They seemed like the usual group of creeps; pale skin, black clothes, and shady dispositions.
When he got close enough, he began walking at a leisurely pace to their position. As the group noticed him, he began to wave. To this, they reacted with much hostility and confronted him before he could reach Amy.
“Hello,” Michael greeted casually. “Is she alive?”
“Who are you?” one of them spoke up.
“Me? Oh, no one of consequence. I mean come on, old warehouse out by the docks at night. Do you get the clichéd ideas out a book or something? Listen, you’ve had your fun, why don’t you just give me the girl and call it a night?” said Michael, trying to keep his tone casual.
“And what if we don’t?”
“Oh, come on. I’ve had a long night. Just-“and at this instant one of the group charged at him. Michael reacted fast with his arm whipping back and pulling out his gun. The aggressor stopped and laughed at this as he had the firearm pointed at his face. This split second was exactly what Michael was looking for. It gave him just the distraction as he swung his other arm forward and punched the guy in the face, knocking him to the ground.
This action caused the rest of the crew to join in but not before Michael put back the pistol and swung out his dual Chisa katana swords from his back sheath. With this motion, a few of the men backed off while some continued charging toward him.
The first of his would be attackers swung a large pipe implement at him to which he easily avoided. As he kicked this man backward, two more came from his back and side. Michael slide between them on his knees to their rear. From this vantage, the previous two and two others surrounded him.
He breathed with fire in his lungs. It had been so long since he had taken on a group. “Good exercise,” he thought. They closed in and the one to his left threw a crate at him. To this, Michael ducked and took him out at the legs.
His agility and speed seemed to serve as only further proof to himself that while he had been dead, he had certainly not been lazy. Each day he had trained, alone in his loft if only waiting for such skills to be deemed useful in the practical since.
Another man sent a hard punch his way and narrowly missed him as Michael dodged and carved a cross into the man’s chest. This assailant stammered back in agony as if his torso were on fire. As the fight raged on, fewer and fewer of his opposition got up to meet him after they fell. The rest of the group climbed to their feet and ran.
As they quickly fled the scene, Michael walked over to Amy, lying on the ground near a pile of broken equipment. He knelt at her side just as she was beginning to stir. She opened her blue eyes and looked up at him with confusion.
“What’s going on? Where am I?” she said with bare consciousness.
Michael gazed down at her with loving eyes and said, “Don’t you know not to be walking around by yourself after dark?” and smiled. He then helped her to her feet and they began the trek home.
As they walked, Michael couldn’t help but think about the men at the docks. “What were they doing there? What were in those unmarked crates?. Where did they flee to? Are there more?” Questions rattled around in his mind the entire way back to the apartments.
When he returned to Sadie’s door she gave so much appreciation to him for bringing back her Amy. She basically told him that rent was taken care of. This gesture was too much for Michael and he tried to resist but they shortage of work and his empty bank account made him hold his tongue. With one last embrace, he left them and continued climbing to his loft.
Michael opened the door and took off his swords and trench coat, hanging them next to the entrance. His gun, he unloaded and set delicately on the nightstand. He then drew in a deep breath, as if he had been holding in the entire night, and collapsed onto his bed.
Nothingness overcame him, and it was filled with utter bliss. Though the battle raged on, the night was so still and so silent.
Stay tuned for more.
“It’s been too long since that night; too long with no results. After I caught my breath, I hiked to the nearest hospital and collapsed in the waiting room; thought it would get their attention. I woke up in a sterile white bed a few days later. Just in time for the local news.
They reported that no one was found at the camp; no one. There was no blood. There was no force of entry. There was nothing. For all they knew, I vanished with the rest of them. I preferred to keep it that way. Before the nice doctors could bill me or ask me questions, I left. Apparently I already had a predisposition for disappearing.
I thought about killing myself more times than I’d like to admit. But I got so many problems, killing myself probably wouldn’t fix them all. And it sure as hell wouldn’t bring her back. So I tracked them. Those vampires, or whatever they are, gave me the slip more than once. I hunted them for the better part of a year now and it boiled down to this: they’re here. They’re in this city. They’re waiting for I don’t know what and I don’t know where, but they’re here.
I’ve been going under the assumption that Gabrielle and the rest from the camp are still with them. There’s been no evidence to the contrary. If they were killed it’d be an awful lot of bodies to dump and there’s been nothing in the papers. So they’re here; all of the, somewhere.”
Michael stared blankly into his glass and thought about his next move. The crowd had all but moved on this time of night. As the last of the barflies took their leave he took the last throat-full of his drink. He made sure the last had left before he took a deep breath and began.
He leapt over the bar and unsheathed one of his dual swords and pulled out a .38 caliber Colt Detective Special in his other hand. He quickly advanced on the bartender and with great force, pushed up against the edge of the bar. Michael figured with a sword at his throat and a gun in his chest, the bar-keep was forced to pay more attention.
“Now that you’re a little more comfortable,” Michael spat out, “We can get down to business, yeah?”
The bartender whispered a panicked, “Yes.”
“Alright then, tell me about a large group of people that came into town not too long ago.”
“I don’t know about any large groups,” he said with a slight whimper in his voice.
“Oh, you know; large group trying to keep secret, dental problem, probably don’t like the sun too much?”
“I don’t know I about any vampires.”
“I didn’t say they were vampire.” Michael said with a sneer. “Maybe I should reiterate myself.” He pulled the hammer back and pushed the barrel ever more forcefully into the bartender’s chest.
“I was just going with what you said. I swear I don’t know.” He was sobbing openly now and cowering in on himself.
Michael could see that he wasn’t going to get any information out of this guy so he simple leaned over and whispered into the bartender’s ear, “Thank you of your time,” and then vanished out the door.
“It was a bum hunch anyway,” he thought as he slowly walked through the darkened streets to his apartment. As Michael hiked up the steps to his loft, he passed by his ladnlady’s room. There lived Sadie and her teenage daughter, Amy.
Sadie was older but only around her mid thirties though not to her appearance could one judge this age. Amy, of course, was the spitting image of her mother both in resemblance and wit. They were nice enough to and even paid him for odd jobs every now and then. Though he did not want to overstep his bounds when he heard crying coming from their room he knocked on the door.
Sadie opened the door in tears and fell onto Michael.
“What’s wrong?” Michael stammered as he embraced her and for a brilliant moment in time he remembered Gabrielle.
“It’s Amy. She didn’t come home today and her friends don’t know where she is.” She spoke into his shoulder with a quiver of worry in her voice. “I know it’s asking a lot, but you know this city, could you please help me?”
“Hold on.” Michael said with concern as he grasped her shoulders and brought her around to face him. “Where do you think she would go?”
“I don’t know,” she said, holding back the tears. “Please help.”
“Alright, alright; I’ll do it. Just wait here by the phone; I’ll bring her back.” With these last words he stared into her eyes with earnest intensity. Michael then made his way back down the steps and out into the night.
“At least in this town there’s always a way to get information you didn’t need.” He thought as he began climbing down a steep dissent into a rusty overpass on the far side of town. His las step down was a large one but once he was firmly on the ground he leisurely pulled out a pocket knife and commenced work on his arm. Once he was finished he held out his forearm to the open breeze and waited. “Not long know.”
It wasn’t long before Michael heard a rustle on top of the overpass. A figure jumped down on the far side of the tunnel and started with haste towards his position. Michael stood still as the figure came to his are began digging in like a dog in his water dish. Then, the stranger looked up slightly as if to fully understand what he was doing and found that the open wound he was suckling was a happy face carved into Michael’s forearm. The man looked up at him and sneered, “You asshole.”
Michael took this with a smile, grabbed him by the neck and slammed him into the side of the overpass. The stranger being strangled went by the name Remy and was well known as a parasite of the night; nothing more than a leech with fangs. Michael had, in fact, done this same routine to him on many occasions, whether he knew too much or too little; it didn’t matter.
“So, what’s it gonna be, Remy, the easy way or the fun way?” He questioned with a note of joy in his voice.
“What do you wanna know?” Remy coughed out.
“There’s a girl, long blonde hair, about this tall, where is she?”
“Mmmm, the young master has a girlfriend. Wouldn’t she be a little you for you?” Remy laughed through Michael’s grip.
Michael began laughing and swiftly punched Remy in the face. “You’re just making it easier for me to hit you, Remy. You know I haven’t had a good workout tonight.”
“Fine. She was taken by a group of them. They hang out down by the docks.”
Michael could tell he was telling the truth so he merely smiled and said, “Thanks,” and dropped him to the hard ground.
As Michael approached a clearing where the docks stood he spotted a group of people standing amidst crates next to an old warehouse. He approached cautiously until he saw just how many there were. He counted nine in total, one of which was holding a young blonde about Amy’s height. The girl seemed to be unconscious but hopefully breathing. They seemed like the usual group of creeps; pale skin, black clothes, and shady dispositions.
When he got close enough, he began walking at a leisurely pace to their position. As the group noticed him, he began to wave. To this, they reacted with much hostility and confronted him before he could reach Amy.
“Hello,” Michael greeted casually. “Is she alive?”
“Who are you?” one of them spoke up.
“Me? Oh, no one of consequence. I mean come on, old warehouse out by the docks at night. Do you get the clichéd ideas out a book or something? Listen, you’ve had your fun, why don’t you just give me the girl and call it a night?” said Michael, trying to keep his tone casual.
“And what if we don’t?”
“Oh, come on. I’ve had a long night. Just-“and at this instant one of the group charged at him. Michael reacted fast with his arm whipping back and pulling out his gun. The aggressor stopped and laughed at this as he had the firearm pointed at his face. This split second was exactly what Michael was looking for. It gave him just the distraction as he swung his other arm forward and punched the guy in the face, knocking him to the ground.
This action caused the rest of the crew to join in but not before Michael put back the pistol and swung out his dual Chisa katana swords from his back sheath. With this motion, a few of the men backed off while some continued charging toward him.
The first of his would be attackers swung a large pipe implement at him to which he easily avoided. As he kicked this man backward, two more came from his back and side. Michael slide between them on his knees to their rear. From this vantage, the previous two and two others surrounded him.
He breathed with fire in his lungs. It had been so long since he had taken on a group. “Good exercise,” he thought. They closed in and the one to his left threw a crate at him. To this, Michael ducked and took him out at the legs.
His agility and speed seemed to serve as only further proof to himself that while he had been dead, he had certainly not been lazy. Each day he had trained, alone in his loft if only waiting for such skills to be deemed useful in the practical since.
Another man sent a hard punch his way and narrowly missed him as Michael dodged and carved a cross into the man’s chest. This assailant stammered back in agony as if his torso were on fire. As the fight raged on, fewer and fewer of his opposition got up to meet him after they fell. The rest of the group climbed to their feet and ran.
As they quickly fled the scene, Michael walked over to Amy, lying on the ground near a pile of broken equipment. He knelt at her side just as she was beginning to stir. She opened her blue eyes and looked up at him with confusion.
“What’s going on? Where am I?” she said with bare consciousness.
Michael gazed down at her with loving eyes and said, “Don’t you know not to be walking around by yourself after dark?” and smiled. He then helped her to her feet and they began the trek home.
As they walked, Michael couldn’t help but think about the men at the docks. “What were they doing there? What were in those unmarked crates?. Where did they flee to? Are there more?” Questions rattled around in his mind the entire way back to the apartments.
When he returned to Sadie’s door she gave so much appreciation to him for bringing back her Amy. She basically told him that rent was taken care of. This gesture was too much for Michael and he tried to resist but they shortage of work and his empty bank account made him hold his tongue. With one last embrace, he left them and continued climbing to his loft.
Michael opened the door and took off his swords and trench coat, hanging them next to the entrance. His gun, he unloaded and set delicately on the nightstand. He then drew in a deep breath, as if he had been holding in the entire night, and collapsed onto his bed.
Nothingness overcame him, and it was filled with utter bliss. Though the battle raged on, the night was so still and so silent.
Stay tuned for more.