When the sun goes down...

Discussion in 'Original Works' started by Darkloch, Aug 26, 2008.

  1. Darkloch

    Darkloch Love Sara

    Jul 16, 2008
    Likes Received:
    Trophy Points:
    Stockholm, Sweden
    +33 / 0 / -0
    Another one starring Inna. Not my best ever though.

    The sun had gone down over an hour ago, but still there was flickering lights around her, hurting her eyes. She looked around her and registered everything with her new, heightened senses. The input made her dizzy but after a couple of seconds she got used to it and the room stopped screaming in her ears.
    Her eyes focused and she recognized her surroundings, she was home, in her room, in merry old England. She was taking the familiarity in, frowning at how she didn’t feel anything when she saw her favourite necklace or the doll she’d owned when she was younger, she wondered why it didn’t seem important too her anymore. Someone opened the door and entered a small shape. Dark hair, just like hers, brown eyes staring into her icy blue.
    “Inna?” the little girl said, “father said that you shouldn’t be up and about.”
    She was dressed in a woven dress, quite expensively cut for a farmer’s daughter and, for a second, Inna remembered the days that she and Lizanna, her sister, had spent on the hills behind their house, watching their father’s sheep. Then she started crying, she knew what was about to transpire. Lizanna didn’t have time to scream when her sister grabbed her and sunk her fangs into her throat. Still crying, Inna consumed her sister’s blood, smelling her baby brother Robert in the room down the hall and her parents beyond that. Their blood was rushing trough their veins and calling to her. She released the body she had held and let lose a scream that bore all her anguish and guilt. And the shadows behind her laughed.

    The scream jolted her awake. Confused, she scanned the room but nothing was out of order. The big curtains shielding her from the sun outside was still there, as was the wooden walls and furniture that made up her apartment in downtown Soho. She muttered some phrases better left out of writing and rose from her bed. She felt the curtains; the warmth told her that the sun was still up. She turned back towards the bed and looked at the covers, they where torn to shreds. She frowned at her nails.
    “Can’t take you guys anywhere, can I?” She said accusingly and went to the bathroom. She stopped to look in the mirror which, of course, didn’t show her reflection.
    “Still avoiding me, you stuck up bitch?” She grumbled at her absent reflection.
    After a couple of years thinking it over, she had assessed that the reason why vampires didn’t have reflections was that said reflections were a bunch of rude and snobby assholes. But maybe that was for the best? If she had a reflection she would most likely argue with it every day.
    She turned on the shower and stripped out of her panties, with a sigh that had more to do with the soft, hot water than her needing extra air she stepped into the sprinkling water. While the water washed the nightmare away, she contemplated on it. The dream had brought her back a good 400 years or so, to when she first became a vampire. It was true that she had killed her family, what with the demon in her an all. But the screaming and crying? Nuh-huh! Not her, not ever had she cried for a victim. Okay, that one time with the priest, but he had had tons of garlic on him and it had irritated her eyes. She chuckled at the memories.
    “Thank you, Bram Stoker,” she thought, “for the world’s best comedy. Sleeping in coffins and afraid of crosses, indeed!”

    She got out of the shower and dried herself off with a towel. She combed her long, black hair and then she went back into the living room (for a second wondering if it could still be called that if the person who lived there were dead) and got dressed. The sun would go down in an hour or so and then it would be party time. According to the human writers, all vampires ever did were sleep, feed and kill. But the truth was that when the feeding was out of the way, they did what everyone wanted to do, they had fun. And not the sick stuff like nailing humans unto a wall and throw darts at them; almost no vampires did that anymore. Mostly they partied, drank heavily, and danced the night away. Some of them still killed for the fun of it but they soon stopped, doing it for centuries wasn’t that much of a hoot in the end. She zipped her red leather pants together and chose a black top with a dragon motif. She completed the look with a pair of combat boots, and after some thought she put on a black, biker jacket she’d taken from a guy that had gotten friendly with her fangs a couple of night ago (so she didn’t kill for fun, that did not mean that she couldn’t kill for profit). She applied some make up (which is a hard thing to do when you can’t see your face) and then went and got some blood from her refrigerator, she preferred it hot and steaming right from the source but wasn’t in the mood to hunt tonight, or at least she wasn’t in the mood yet.

    She waited two hours before leaving the apartment, and stopped to really check that it was clear before leaving her building, she had spent too much time on her look to let herself turn into smoke before anyone saw it. Fortunately, the sun was gone and a nice, comfy darkness was spreading, killed only by the lights of the city. So she made her way to the subway, she did own a Harley but liked the sub much more. For a vamp it was like a buffet on a rail. But, like all animals, the humans sooner or later learned which subway trains were safe and which ones were not. So, this splendid evening, the only choices she had was a couple of homeless guys who didn’t have any choice and some gang members who thought they were badass enough to be able to make a bad choice. She measured the gangers with her eyes, Diablos most likely. Los Negro Diablos was the biggest gang in good, old NY at the moment, with new recruits daily. One of them, the leader she assumed, had two black horns of steel on his forehead and he had sharpened al of his teeth. He glanced confidently around while the other two seemed happy and scared at the same time.
    Gang initiation, she had seen a few and partaken in a lot of them, mostly as the victim and from the way their leader looked at her she got the feeling that she was about to participate again. She smiled softly as he turned to whisper to his companions, some people were just too stupid to be allowed to live. Her suspicions were confirmed when the two goons started towards her, brandishing knives and chains to “subdue” her.
    “Hey, babe.” The first one said, knife in hand, “your have a damn, fine ass.”
    “And we’re gonna have some fun with it!” the other filled in confidently.
    “You know,” Inna started, “I have this respect for gangs, I don’t like them but I respect them. But rapists…”
    She grabbed their throats and lifted them of the floor.
    “I outright hate rapists!” she snarled while she broke their necks with a sickening crunch. Then, as if an afterthought, she turned towards the last one.
    “Why can’t you just rob, kill and maim like everyone else?” she asked calmly, “If you do this kind of shit, I’m gonna have to rip the throat out of every single Diablo in this city.”
    The ganger took a step towards her and he clearly was furious.
    ”You know who you’re talking to?” he screamed, “Mess with the Devil and you die, bitch!”
    With a wry smile Inna moved faster than a human could follow and came up face to face with the man.
    “The Devil?” She whispered, “The Devil is my bitch!”
    And then she bit him, and it burned her.
    She screamed and threw the body away, the poison in her saliva killing him instantly, but the pain continued.
    Her mouth burned, her body didn’t obey her. Wrong person coming into the car now meant that she was dead. And then it stopped.
    Blinking, she got to her feet and looked around her for the source of the pain but found nothing. Except for the smell, a rotten smell. She sniffed around and found that it came from the dead ganger; cautiously she went closer to the body and extended one of her nails into a wicked looking claw. With it, she poked the body on several places, releasing blood that smelled as rotten as the body. She poked at the pocket and felt the nail coming into contact with glass. She rummaged about in it for a second and pulled out a small glass sphere with a needle sticking out of it. Drugs, she figured, but it was from there the rotten smell came.
    “Great!” She muttered, “Just what I need, a drug that makes people inedible!”
    At that moment the body of the ganger rose to its feet and began to move towards her with slouching steps.
    “And un-killable?” Inna thought, “What’s next? Personalized stakes?”
    A moan rose up from the former gangers throat, Inna kicked his head off. It rolled away, still moaning, but its body fell into a heap and finally laid still.
    “And be a good boy and stay dead this time!” she added.
    The train stopped and Inna hurriedly got off, fixing her hair in the process.

    Unbeknownst to the vampire girl, one of the hobos hadn’t been asleep or drunk. He had seen it all, from the broken necks to the dead gang banger attacking. He rummaged around in his stinking overcoat and pulled out a rather expensive cell phone, he pressed the speed dial and waited.
    “Yes?” a raspy, low voice answered.
    “It’s me,” the hobo said, “the test worked perfectly and I discovered some interesting side effects.”
    “Such as?”
    “A she-vampire broke test subjects B and C’s necks without problem…”
    “Then the test was a failure.”
    “No sir, it proceeded to bite subject A.”
    “Well, I don’t know all that much about the animals, but it looked to me like it was in quite a lot of pain.”
    A long silence followed at the other end of the phone.
    “Sir?” the hobo dared.
    “Detain the creature and bring it in for examination and dissection, we don’t want this to be just a fluke, do we?”
    “No, sir! But, sir, eh...the vampire is not at the scene anymore.”
    A cold chuckle.
    “Well, you had better go get it then, wouldn’t you say, Asphodel?”
    “Yes, sir!” The man said, for a man he was. Though he had been heavily enhanced over the years. Asphodel transformed his features until he looked like himself again and threw the stinking coat away. Under it he wore a spotless, black tuxedo. His uncombed, red hair turned white and laid combed flat against his head, with a nonchalant check in the mirror he vanished into thin air. The other hobos didn’t witness this and was blissfully asleep until the where awoken by the police hours later.

    The music was loud and throbbing, dancing bodies covered the dance floor yet it was nice and cool inside the club. Nobody in there gave off heat or breath. It was the Les Yeux Cachés, where vampires could come and go as they wished. For party or for protection, it was also the seat of the Tribune, the leading organ of the vampires in New York. Aside from that, Inna loved it from the second she entered trough the doors and checked in her jacket. She got wind of Jinn and Becka, her closest friends, or something like friends.
    Jinn wasn’t really a vampire, he came from the Tibetan mountains, their equivalent to a vampire. Not as strong as the bona fide thing but he could walk in the sun, now that was something. The key ingredient was that he needed blood just like they did and that he was dead just like them, never trust anyone who breathes.
    Becka, on the other hand, was a vamp body and mind. A purebred demon just like Inna, that’s why she liked her, that and the fact that they both were turned below “legal” age. Even vampires had an age limit, no kids and no teens, only adults. But Inna had been turned at sixteen and Becka was turned when she had only been thirteen. And here she was, a hundred and fifty years later and still a child, creepy thing was that she always got a man home if she wanted too. The world was a sick place. Jinn looked to be in his mid–twenties but nobody knew for sure, and it was impolite to ask.
    Becka threw herself around Inna’s neck, Jinn just nodded in greeting; he could be that way sometimes.
    “Inna, honey!” Becka exclaimed, “Where have you been?”
    Inna loosened Becka’s grip and smiled at them both.
    “Hey, guys. Sorry I’m late, “she excused herself, “I took the subway.”
    “Ooh!” Becka taunted, “Inna’s been slumming again. You do know that eating hobos is for loser’s right?”
    “Yeah, yeah shorty.” Inna muttered, “But I didn’t eat anyone, I was a part of a gang initiation, some Diablos and their chaperone.”
    “Did you kill them?” Jinn asked with a low, soft voice.
    “Yup, but one of them got back up.”
    “You mean a whole bunch of them came at you at the same time?” Becka sounded very jealous, “you have all the fun.”
    Inna shook her head.
    “No, I mean he got back up as in he was dead and then he got back on his feet.”
    Jinn suddenly jolted his head upwards so that he stared into her eyes.
    “You mean he became a zombie?”
    “I don’t know,” Inna shrugged. “Something like that.”
    Jinn grabbed her arm.
    “Did you bite him?” he demanded.
    Inna looked curiously at him.
    ”Not that it’s any of your business but yeah...but when I did…”
    “It felt like you drank fire, like being burned inside out, right?” he said.
    The three of them had found a table to sit at and now Inna rested her arms on the table.
    “Uh-huh, turned out that it was some drug he’d taken that caused it, how did you know? Seen it before?”
    Jinn nodded.
    “Earlier tonight I bit a Diablo-girl on Manhattan before I went here and the exact same thing happened.”
    “So it’s just the Diablos that use the drug?” Becka asked, “Shouldn’t we tell the Tribune about this?”
    “Nah,” Inna answered, “ten-to-one that the old geezers already know, just change your diet from Diablos to some other gang for a couple of weeks or so.”
    “And just leave the matter?” Jinn asked, “What about all the others who hunt gangers?”
    Inna made a face.
    “Let them burn for all I care, what did they ever do for me?”
    Jinn was about to retort when he got interrupted by a brawl that broke out a couple of tables away from them. A growl and a scream, then the security guards broke it up.
    Becka sighed.
    “Just Zenn and his buddies” she said,” They drank a couple of junkies again.”
    “Ain’t that against the laws?” Inna asked.
    “Oh, and you always follow the laws?” Jinn asked snidely.
    “Hell no!” Inna answered, “I’m just not stupid, and I know which laws you can brake without getting smoked. And I always…”
    Then they began playing No suicide, I’m quitting by Rabid Kangaroos and she jumped to her feet.
    “Sorry, guys, that’s my song!”
    And she threw herself right into the fray of bodies. Her friends looked after her.
    “Wild shall wild remain.” Jinn said.
    “You’ve been into fortune cookies again, haven’t you?” Becka commented.
    Jinn didn’t reply.
  2. Black Tattoo

    Black Tattoo The Corruptor

    Feb 3, 2006
    Likes Received:
    Trophy Points:
    Buckle of the Snow Belt (AKA Michigan)
    +107 / 0 / -0
    An excellent piece! Real good dialogue, it kept the entire piece moving at a good clip. My compliments :)